Feel like escaping for a bit?....these lot did too...enjoy Pig Brother

Pig Brother

Looking through the blackened bullet- proof glass window of the Rolls Royce Silver Shadow, Lord Sagittarius smiled as the camera flashed.

As his chauffeur flew along the Goat-mill Road at 70 mph, he knew that the mobile speed camera hidden in the pull-in place opposite Mount View was doing a good job at fleecing the public.

Welcome to Cameron’s Britain , he grinned , knowing full well he would not be fined as he was above the law.

Leaning back against the red leather interior, he displayed all the arrogance and opulence of a Government Department to which spending public money was of little concern to the former Mayor of London , who had merely switched his personal licence plate from MOL1 to HMP1.

As the winged lady on his Silver Shadow glided towards the newly built Prison at Merthyr Tydfil , he looked up at the twenty-five foot high prison walls made from local Vaynor Quarry Limestone.

From his privileged position in the House of Lords , the hereditary peer knew little about the prison service – save that most of his old Eton chums had been saved from sentences when Lloyds of London went under by their ‘old boy network’ friends in the judiciary.

His campaign in 2010 to bring back traditional punishments for persistent offenders had led to a series reduction in crime in London from the non-working classes.

His use of old Tory punishments like the stocks and the birch had reaped dividends.

His slogan of ‘Capital Punishment for the Capital’ was just a natural extension of his extreme Right- Wing views.

Most of the school leavers had been conscripted - with National Service being compulsory for all 1225 year olds and were sent to fight the oil wars in the Middle East, Heroin wars in Afghanistan and few returned intact.

Those that did usually had a limb missing or were suffering from some syndrome or other.

He was proud of his reinstatement of the use of the guillotine and the reintroduction of the Marshallsea or debtors prison for those with negative equity.

Britain was a far healthy place following the deportation of all immigrants or any person with a X , Y or Z in their surname shown up on their applications for the new national identity card.

The finishing touch was the new Goat-mill Road Prison completed at no cost to the tax-payer constructed by an army of slaves captured by gunboat diplomacy in the Gulf.

Lord Sagittarius had welcomed a return to Victorian Values and the latest prison was his lasting legacy to the Valleys people for blindly voting Labour all those years that he was in opposition.

The Dragon’s Penitentiary prison already had been christened by the local residents with the nickname “ Old Goatee” from the Arab workforce that had constructed it .

The official name was HMP Capricorn.

It was set to save the Government millions in transportation costs to Cardiff and Swansea prisons and was the second preferred option after the ‘8 mile project’ was abandoned which previously suggested building ‘Escape from New York’ style walls around the perimeter of the Gurnos and Galon Uchaf.

As the Roll Royce came to a stop, Lord Sagittarius was met by a delegation of sycophantic senior prison officials and local politicians.

“ Congratulations, on your decision to site this Prison here and not in North Wales!” came the reply from one of the local councillors who had defected from the Communist Party to the Old New Tory party , two weeks after being elected.

“ A masterstroke...I must say !” snorted Henry Hooray, Old New Tory Councillor for Twyn Ward.....” the twenty-five foot walls block out all the dust from the open-cast and the stench from Trecatti tip....it acts as a wonderful buffer zone....I’ve never had a moments trouble at my flat in Cardiff Bay!”

“ This way your Lordship ....the Governor is awaiting you !” announced Senior Warden “ Lennon Wheel bowing as he unfurled the red carpet in the wake of Sagittarius.

As he was led into a grand office, the Lord , took off his top hat, yellow silken scarf and put down his walking cane.

“ Governor...!” he declared as he extended his hand towards the office occupant .

“ “ Welcome to H M P Capricorn One......Lord Sagittarius... nice to see you again old boy !” said the Governor completing the Masonic handshake with a swift clutch of the third knuckle.

“ Did you ever think Boris , when we were chums at Eton, that you would one day be in charge of the biggest construction project since Offa’s Dyke to keep the Welsh out of England!” sniggered Sagittarius.

“ Well, most of my Eton chums expected me to end up behind bars...but not like this!” replied Boris Gaff.

“ Well , I keep expecting people to find out that I am an idiot ....but I keep getting promoted.....!” mumbled Boris.

“ That is the British way...... laughed Sagittarius......anyway I have even more of a wheeze for you....since we have a majority in both Houses of Parliament following the capitulation of New

Labour , we have managed to repeal the Anti Hunting Act and have privatised the Prison Service with effect from today”

“ Crikey!” replied Boris.

“ Does that mean I have to sack myself this time?” asked Boris.

“ On the contrary, we could invade Poland if we wanted to....instead of the other way round.......no... it means that we can get rid of even more of our opposition and Labour voters....” continued Sagittarius.

“ As you know, I have long been a supporter of the re-introduction of Capital punishment ......and I have combined my life-long love of hunting with a political slant”

“ We have repealed the Human Rights Act ....which means that these lot in here no longer will have it easy....prisoners will no longer have any rights....there will be an ‘open-door policy’ from now on......” continued Sagittarius

“ But I thought HMP Capricorn was to be the first escape-proof prison- your slogan that it could house the Zodiac Killer....... was that all election talk......what exactly do you mean..?” queried Boris Oaff

“ Meaning..... that if they try to escape ....they will be shot.....and as tomorrow is August 12th .....the Glorious Twelfth.... I don’t expect any ‘grousing’ from the prisoners .....but I do expect a lot of escapees....if you catch my drift......!”

“ Actually, I don’t.....mumbled Boris dimly.

“ Didn’t you ever wonder why this purpose built prison had a door marked ‘Fire Escape.....Press Bar ?’ asked Sagittarius looking startled.

“ No ...actually as the prison houses a number of minor celebrities who supported New Labour.... I thought it that it was the refreshment area for the paparazzi....”! snorted Boris.

“ Besides since you made Celebrity Big Brother and all other reality shows illegal the place has been packed full of them!” he continued.

“ Yes...that was one of my better moves.... chortled the politician ....I also liked the new draconian laws we brought in to get of such undesirables....” boasted Sagittarius.

“ Which ‘stars’ did you get here?”

“ Well we did try to keep it local and include only Welsh stars ....but we only managed to fill ‘C’ Wing.! “ replied Boris.

“ Let me see ......“ Keith ‘Prodigy’ Flynt, Bappy Yorath, footballers Earnie Robshaw and Mickey Thomas , weathergirl Shan Lloyd, Scrabble Champion Lembit Opik, .

“ Sorry ....never heard of any of them!” continued Sagittarius.

“Mr & Mrs Charlie Chapel in, Vinnie Jones, Jade Goodie ..... “ continued Boris.

Sagittarius continued to shake his head.

“ Patrick McGoohan....Maureen from Driving school.......... Howard Markes ...Tyrone Sullivan ...!”

“Stop....what’s he in for!” asked Sagittarius.

“ Some miner offence...I expect.... continued Boris....” Yes , we collared him on the three strikes and out policy....he didn’t realise it was retrospective....we got him back for Ogreave.!”

“ Yes...him and his underground movement...! “ snarled the Lord in true class hatred mode.

“ Howard Markes....I thought he was clean these days....respectable prison author nowadays....not too many of us around....” laughed Sagittarius.

“ We caught him in a laundrette washing his jeans....we found a ‘Mickey Thomas £20.00 in his pocket from the Bank of Wrexham and charged him with money laundering!” cackled Boris sounding like he had a screw loose.

“ Anyway, I want you to select six pairs for the local Old Tory Party members to hunt tomorrow....have a guard ring them on their mobile, pretending that they are their showbiz agent or something like that ...tell them that it is Amnesty International Day or something....they believe anything their agent tells them ....tell them if they make it across the State or County line ...they will be set free....mind you....make each of them eat 50 eggs the day before and chill then before they leave....to make sure they can’t run “....continued Sagittarius.

“ Cool and Puke” muttered Boris writing it down on his prison issue note pad....” wasn’t that a Paul Newman film?” asked Boris suddenly.

“ Just remember...five pairs released .....at hourly intervals from 12 Noon tomorrow!” snapped Sagittarius....remember our friends from South African , Australia and the former colonies do not like being disappointed....their own safaris are too tame since they relaxed the law on shooting Abos and Kaffers in the bush...or anywhere else for that matter !”.


“ Gary.....tell us some more about the time you were stuck in limbo at Bangkok airport!” asked Mickey Thomas scrubbing his own back with a prison issue loofah.

“ Was it like that Tom Hanks film .....the terminal ? asked Lembit Opik joining the duo in the prison showers.

“ Her NAME was Lim Bo ...if you must know Mickey....and I was hiding in the disabled toilet at the time trying to evade the Malaysian authorities....but you know the old saying ...any port in a storm”.... replied the former glam rocker still in his glitter studded platform boots.

” Yes...I know that saying....said Andy McNob Western....when I jumped off the Sir Galahad...Port Stanley...was where I was headed in the Falklands War....”

“ Bloody Hell .....announced Mickey....looking down at Western’s body....70% burns ...and it caught your Lynx.....I see”!

“ Lynx?”......queried Opik ....until he caught sight of the burned chopper.

.” No thanks....I prefer a different shampoo...we used Vosene in the Welsh Guards in the South Atlantic...brought a wonderful shine to our bearskins....!” announced Western not frightened to display his heavy artillery.

“ Do you have too be THAT naked....?” asked Glitter.

..” That’s sick ...cover them up like me in a swimming costume.!”

“ Why is there an ‘S’ missing from Speedo...on your briefs anyway?” asked the ever alert scrabble champion Lembit Opik.

“ There isn’t a letter missing .... they are a counterfeit version from Thailand!” countered Glitter.

“ Did the guards give you them trunks ?” asked Western smiling.

“ Why yes...if you must know...what’s it to you? asked Glitter trying to keep Western and his old soldier out of his gang.

“ That figures ...anyway it’s no skin off my nose...as I was saying ....in Goose Green the Argies were far more badly equipped than the British Army and suffered from all manner of complaints like trench-foot , snow blindness and Penguin VD....but they didn’t suffer from dandruff....” continued Western to Opik.

“ How do you know that ?” asked the naked bean-pole.

“ After we torpedoed the General Belgrano in the stern outside the exclusion zone , we found the Argies head and shoulders on the beach!” chuckled Western remembering the face of Maradona Senior as he tried to push away the twin missiles with the ‘Hand of God’.

“ Out of the way ...pencil neck...snarled Vinny Jones, Godfather of the Prison bumping into Opik causing him to lose his grip on the soap...I am the Don around here ...!” pointing his figure first at Glitter, then at Opik and finally at the steaming body of Western.....Rock , Laughing Stock and two smoking barrels....!”

“ Any of you wieners heard anything about a prison break tomorrow?” questioned an angry Vinny.

“ I can see why they called him big Chris...!” whispered Thomas to Glitter.

“ What are you pair of girls whispering about....speak up or I’ll do to you what I did to Liverpool in the 1988 FA Cup Final !” snarled the mean machine.

“ I don’t watch football.....!” stuttered Opik mistakenly bending over for the soap in front of the Wimbledon Hardman.

As the twin pillars of Wembley appeared before Vinnie , like most of his career he could not resist a 50/50 ball.

“ Cheeky cheeky .....!” he laughed ,,,” Remember Gazza boys.....!” said the evil voice as he grasped at the defenceless Opik

“ His ball control was never the same after....!”

“ Dammit...said George Boy entering for his third successive shower.. this place isn’t exactly a culture club....I BETTER pick up the soap again!

******

Looking around at the main prison hall, footballer Earnie H Robshaw looked nervous.

A pretty boy like him was a rare commodity in the nick and being sent to prison for driving whilst on his mobile was he thought the very least excessive.

The Rodney King style beating he took from the Swansea Jack supporting Police had also marred his normal good looks further.

He was known as ‘ Prisoner Cell-phone H’

He had however, made a powerful friend inside this Merthyr nick a big Cardiff City supporter Paul ‘Gordon’ Gecko who traded as ‘Paul’s Pastries’.

He was well known for his underworld connections and his disposal of business rivals via his fast food service meant he had a lot of fingers in a lot of pies.

‘The Hi Tollah’ as he was known because of increased melanin and swarthy complexion loved Earnie as he always praised him in his goal celebrations.

He had warned the inmates to give him a wide berth otherwise they would be the receiving end of his other less legitimate business of selling body parts.

A raid on his meat factory in Wall Street farm at Pontsarn by the Trading Standards department had revealed that the content of the pies were 90 % meat , in fact full of hearts and kidneys .

They decided to charge him with insider trading.

He had even through his wealth became a huge local politician and was tipped to become big in Westminster till the scandal broke and he became known as the ‘Dismember of Parliament’.

His London friends including Lord Sagittarius had made sure he looked after in the new ‘Open Prison’.

Can’t be too careful though...said Earnie standing next to Yorkshire Ripper Peter Sutcliffe.

“ Can’t seem to get any chocolate out of this machine....moaned Sutcliffe....don’t suppose you have a hammer by any chance?” he asked hopefully.

“ Let me have a go....offered Earnie”

“ What do you want..... Mars... Topic or Snickers!”

“ Nah....nodded the one eye ripper........“ I could murder a yorkie!” he chuckled maniacally.

“ Western....what do about you?”

“ Flake again?”

The gallows humour was interrupted by a schizophrenic Charles Bronson who was laughing hysterically to himself.

Earnie was too nervous to ask him .....but the unassuming figure of Keith Flynt was less shy. “ My little split personality friend....what has got you laughing today?” he snorted through his gold nose ring.

“ I told myself a joke ...and I hadn’t heard it before...!” guffawed the tattooed murderer.....must tell my parole board that one!” chuckled Charlie.

The amusement was broken by the sound of an alarm bell which reverberated around the hall which signalled the end of the Prison lunch break.

The internal hall was split into two sections- male and female sections separated by two enclosed phallus- proof wire mesh fences.

Each section was patrolled by guards of each gender and some with a foot in both camps.

Sat in the middle of the ladies section was a selection of minor television celebrities who had been paid a fortune before the out-lawing and criminalisation of reality show broadcasting.

“ What are you in for ?” asked Jade Goodie filing her cuticles whilst talking to former hostess Bappy Yorath.

“ I was caught fox-trotting on strictly .....and was sentenced both for celebrity crime and for breaching the ban on hunting”.

“ Is that a crime now then....?” asked the serial nail-filer.

“Strictly speaking ...No!....but my low cut dress was stamped on by my husbands rugby studs .....which meant I had my baps out before the 9.00pm watershed....and my grandstand finish was the end of Logan’s run at the BBC”.

“What about you?” continued Goodie nodding at weathergirl Shan Lloyd.

“ I made the mistake of laughing live on air when I was told that Michael Fish had rung in to report a Hurricane in Treherbert !”

“ I bet that caused a mess!” sighed Goodie.

“ Actually, it improved the place!” smirked Lloyd through baboon-lips.

“ What about you .....Maureen from driving school...what are you in for ......... dangerous driving .....?”

“ I’m in for HMV?” she replied top-set of teeth moving as she spoke.

“ HMV .....are you positive...?” .said Goodie edging slowly away .

“ That’s HIV ....said Charlotte Chapel....and keep still this bench is only a three seater!”

“ HMV...the music store like....!” continued Maureen teeth and gums in conflict.

The inmates still looked puzzled .

“ I reversed my car through the Cardiff store in Queen Street and set the shop on fire” continued the pensioner.

“ Got charged with the new offence of burning CD’S!”

“ Hang on.... said Charlotte ....Queen Street is pedestrians only ...didn’t you see the signs!”

“ Well most people flee onto the road waving their shopping bags when I drive on the pavements...so I didn’t really notice....said Mo shrugging her shoulders.

“ Anyway ....why have we six been chosen to sit outside the Governess’ Office today?” asked Bappy

“ Apparently, they want to get us out of our luxury cells stop us using our in-cell Playstation and mobiles and increase our prison exercise regime and stop us using the prison computers on internet chat-rooms ...because that Computer- hating Witch in charge here ....who knows everything that goes in this prison... thinks we spend too much time ‘within these walls’.

“ Old Google Withers ...must have an ulterior motive....!” declared Sian Lloyd.

The conversation was interrupted by the Prison tannoy system announcement that the Governor was ready to see them.

As they filed into the office , there were met by a bolus of prison wardens who escorted them to their seats.

The room also contained half- a dozen male prisoners chained together sat on some benches.

At the front of the room , Prison Governor Boris Gaff was sat in a leather chair spinning around on its base and looked like a deranged Bond Villain.

“ I suppose you want to know the reason that I have called you to my office!” announced Boris revelling in his own self- importance.

“ Tomorrow is August 12th ....the glorious twelfth....and I want to give you ‘birds’ all a chance to ‘grouse’ and ‘air’ your grievances.... as former London Mayor I have always been proud of offering people a ‘sporting chance’...an opportunity to wipe the slate clean ...if you see what I mean...” declared Boris crossing his knuckles.

“ What the Governor is saying ...interrupted Governess Withers....is that you will joined into pairs with your male counterparts , shackled by the feet-roots style-and you will be given an opportunity to make a run for it....to make it fair ....you will be have an hour head-start from your pursuers....!”

“ What ......asked Charlotte Chapel .....we are to be hunted by paparazzi ....that will make a change!”

“ Tell me about it ...said singer Duffy....they keep photographing my dimples with their telescopic lens...and I have tinted black shower glass!”

“ No , not that kind of shooter......a different kind ....more your telescopic sight kind... stuttered Boris....

“ You can’t do that ....shouted Lembit Obik from the back- bench ...this is Britain 2010......!”

“ Have you seen the size of our majority...we can do anything!” snapped Lord Sagittarius demonically emerging from the shadows.

“ So why am I set to be chained to Earnie....what good will that do?” asked Jade mouth opening and closing after each word.

“ RACE relations!”....continued Withers...” you know a little bit about that don’t you!”

“ On the subject of pairing...the following have been selected to run in tandem tomorrow.....

“ Jade Goodie & Earnie Robshaw.....Lembit Obik and Charlotte Chapel.....Tyrone Sullivan & Maureen (Driving School).....Bappy Logan & prisoner Patrick McGoohan... Duffy & Keith Flynt...and Andy McNob Western and Shan Lloyd...”

****

As the names of the shackled couples were read out...there was a loud audible sigh of relief and visible smile from Opik.

“ What’s made you so happy?”...asked Western to Opik.....you are being hunted to death tomorrow !”

“ At least I am not shackled to Shan....it would have been a death sentence....!”

“ Cheeky cheeky....!” laughed Earnie.

“ You do ...of course have a chance....continued Boris Gaff...if you make it safe across the County Line....you will be allowed to go free....good luck....”

As the prisoners were shackled together in their new couplings they were sent to the solitary cells to await their fate.

They set in pairs , silently like gladiators due to enter the Roman Amphitheatre.

Nervously awaiting the arrival of dawn as they stared through the ‘David Cooper’ Ornamental Ironwork cell gates which led onto the outside world.

“ It is going to be a beautiful day today....sighed Shan Lloyd staring through the bars of the gates to Solitary cell number 1 ....to her fellow chainee Andy McNob Western....we have an old saying at the BBC weather Department...” Red Sky at night - shepherd’s delight...red sky in the morning Shepherd’s house on fire ..........”

“Who said that.....Meibion Glyndwyr....?”.asked Western sarcastically.... we had our saying in the Welsh Guards....red sky at night ...ICBM rockets system works fine...!”

“ There is a strong South Westerly wind blowing too....” muttered Shan ‘Jagger lips’ pressed through the bars.

“ How do you know ?.......asked Western

“ Easy ...Jade-my prison snout told me....besides I can smell Trecatti Landfill....!” came the reply.

“ Any idea which direction we should head.....?” asked Western .....”as I think the closest County line is near the Pengarnddu area at Top Dowlais!....I was told by one that there is safe haven albeit a leper colony called New Tredegar – we should head there!”

“ Yes , we can get a head start on the sniffer dogs by heading towards Trecatti.....if we can reach the Penygarnddu Common and the collection of dog and horse stables should confuse them for a while.....suggested the 12 O Level Weather genius.

“ We have to stay positive if we are to get out of here” said the Guardsman.

“ What will you do when we reach the border and freedom!”

“ I’ve always wanted to do a cookery show and write about my experiences in the Galleys feeding the army and navy lads ” continued Western.

“ We could write a book together ....eh...101 ways to cook our own chops!” suggested Lloyd ...suddenly realising in horror what she had said.

“ No wonder Opik left you for a cheeky girl...you heartless Pig!” said Western angrily.

*****

As the dawn rose, the six prison pairs wondered their fate

Which of the computer controlled gates would raise first .

At precisely 6.00am the gates began to open.

At half hourly intervals two by two the minor celebrities were released into the public domain once more.

The first celebrities out of the traps were Jade & Earnie who initially hesitated nervously before heading South towards the A4060 Slip Road and Pentrebach spoil tips.

They were followed by Tyrone & Maureen who had opted to head for Merthyr Vale via Twynyrodyn.

Duffy & Keith Flynt decided to head towards Pant Road.

Western & Lloyd and Logan & McGoohan both went North along the Goatmill Road towards Dowlais High Street and the Guest Club.

Chains a clanking both pairs ran as fast as they could towards OP Chocolate building.

The ageing McGoohan was mismatched with the athletic Logan and kept pausing for breath.

Such a breather was to prove fatal as from up on the banking two of the hunters Meirion & Ossie ‘Terry’ Mosley both dressed in the family tradition of black shirt and white hood were ready to release two huge balls of chocolate waste down the hill embankment.

“ Left a bit ....left a bit brother...... now!” said Ossie as they pushed them over the edge.

“ Not again...my living nightmare” shrieked McGoohan.

Ironically, the last words that Prisoner Patrick McGoohan heard as the giant Terry’s chocolate ball hit him was “ Port Meirion”

Bappy Logan , calling on her years of Welsh rhythmic gymnastics...moved out of the way ....forgetting they she was chained to McGoohan , as the pair made one human ‘Sonic the Hedgehog chocolate ball’ rolling down New Road Dowlais towards the Esso garage.

As the Mosley brothers squealed in delight...knew he had found a successful way of boosting the Old Tory campaign funds.

“ Twenty Thousand Pounds a head....times twelve.... was a lot of money delivered in a brown envelope on a Railway station platform....” smiled Lord Sagittarius looking through his prison issue spyglass.

“ Load my crossbow....why should only the hunters have fun!”

*****

Puffing and panting Tyrone Sullivan & Maureen Driving School had managed to steer a course for Twynyrodyn.

Arriving at Dan Y Graig , the old miner remembered stories of an entrance to the Brithdir/ Trebeddau seam close by.

Like a ‘coal’ diviner he innately knew where the largest deposits of coal could be found and easily found the adit or mine entrance near some lightly landscaped shrubbery.

“ Put yourself in reverse Maureen, its this way!” whispered the former miner.

By grinding their chains together they managed to get a spark going and in wrapping a strip of the black arrowed prison issue uniform around a stick they made their way inside the mine.

“ There should be a Davey Lamp around here somewhere....my mate Murphy Walsh from Merthyr Vale who had a sixth sense and could smell deposits of anthracite from his JCB....told me about this very seam...it is the place where they found they found the remains of the first ever miner in Merthyr circa 1790- known at PITDOWN MAN...this mine leads all the way down to Trevethick’s Tunnel and beyond towards Abercanaid and Merthyr Vale....it contain the original fossil remains of the first union men underground- known as the NUM Skulls and the first recorded carbon footprint.....If we can make it to the Darren ...I’m sure Walshy will get us over the County line......very soon the passageway will broaden and we can get in a coal tram which works on gravity to help us get down the valley in style...!” continued Sullivan

“ Do you want me to drive?” asked Maureen hopefully.

“ I don’t need any miner injuries thank you....!” chortled Sullivan boarding the tram.

“ All aboard the Cornish Giant!”....as the tram sped Southward Maureen swore she could hear the sound of the Flying Pickets singing ‘Only you!’

*****

As Duffy and Keith Flynt scurried passed the site of the old Pant baths , they scrambled uncontrollably down the embankment to the rear of New Houses, chain tripping them both up as they tumbled towards the Nant Morlais.,

“If we can make it to the entrance to the Miler Tunnel we have a chance !” panted Flynt ....

The sound of the pursuing dog pack from Royvon kennels , hot on their heels, baying and howling gave the frightened pair extra impetus.

Running past the rear of the aptly named Quarrymans Public House, they knew that the pursuing pack wasn’t fair behind.

Nearing the entrance to the tunnel....Flynt heard a shot ring out ...which bounced off a rock and embedded itself in a poster advertising Merthyr Council’s star turn for Party in the Park (Cyfarthfa 2010) ....the trendy Bryan Ferry & Poxy music ... under the slogan .........guaranteed to break even this time........

“ Rock ....Ferry.... muttered Duffy dimples flapping ...not a good omen !”

The leap of the front female dog, towards the Lead singer of the Prodigy ,looked catastrophic....but he managed to slap the dog in the face ...in true roadie tradition...diverting him away from the stricken pair.

“ Smack my bitch up....aaaa!” shouted the pursuing Huntsman at the disappearing Flynt and Duffy entering the Miler Tunnel hurriedly.

“ We have to do something.... to block the entrance!” screamed Duffy.

“ Fire....said Flynt....collecting the tinder dry Buddleia Butterfly Bush ,so favoured by the Three Horseshoes Pub chimney....he sparked the chain against the tunnel walls....” Flynt by name....flint by nature .....as he lit the bushes and force them against the entrance door.....”

“ I’m a Firestarter!” he quipped.

“ They are not going to get in here in a hurry...but that’s not going to hold them forever...Duffy we need to press on to the end of this disused railway tunnel...grab a stick to scratch along the walls ...there will be light in here till we turn the corner and we will see the ‘pepper-pots’ ....and miler tunnel exit...which should take us out in Pontsarn” he continued.

In the eerie half-light of the disused tunnel , with his nose-ring glinting and bizarre shaven head and pointed hair....she felt like an extra with a back stage pass to a Prodigy video shoot.

****

The pursuers and their animals pressed on with renewed vigour, knowing they had their quarry trapped underground....if they could reach the pepper-pots before the trapped prisoners they were in business.

As they reached the Morlais Castle Golf Club entrance, the figure of U Jean Terreblanche was adamant that the prisoners not escape their judgement.

The use of TNT was unrestricted in his native Transvaal and was expressly permitted under the terms of his Zeller’s Scout licence.

As he laid the charge neatly around the top of the pepper-pots, he smiled to himself...knowing he had only one means of seeing a certain kill....he had tunnel vision.

He set the plunger ready and waited.

*****

As Duffy and Flynt turned the tunnel corner, they squinted up to the half-light streaming down from the pepperpots.

Duffy realised before Flynt that the moment spelled danger.

As Terreblanche pressed the plunger, the whole of the crown of the tunnel collapsed on the pop duo....leaving Flynt covered in debris and body broken and misshapen.

Duffy was pinned by her legs unable to move.

Flynt was delirious....his last words being recitals from his late band songs....No Good....Out of Space....Breathe!....I m a firestarter..... Twisted firestarter .....

Duffy on the other was ‘Begging for Mercy’ ...

But received none from the South African who administered a head shot.

***************************************************************

Western & Lloyd had made it safely to Dowlais Top using the smell of Trecatti Tip to mask their trail.

“ The wind is South Easterly on the Beaufort scale of 4/5 and if can stay within the range of the meat factory we can hold off the dogs....till we get to Company Row...from there the smell of the hounds
and horses from the ‘doggie boys’ will provide cover!” she declared using all of her Met Office and 12 O’ level experience.

As they passed the Penygarnddu Industrial Estate without ‘no frills’, they continued on the plotted course.

“ The new wind farm on Penygarnndu Common should keep us secret until we reach Gypsy Castle ....declared the former Navy ‘Seal’ as Western kept each of the runners full of hope that they could reach the Parliamentary Constituency line.

“ That’s the Western Spirit!” declared Shan Lloyd looking down the common top check for pursuers.

“ The Coast is clear....she declared .....”although there is the risk of scattered showers later!” ....” Sorry.....force of habit!”

As they reached the Nant Rhymney stream , the pair found a semi- converted Tesco trolley...which they used as a raft to sail downstream towards New Tredegar.

“ Are you sure you want to head to Banjoland...?” asked Western.

“ It is less civilised than the Falklands and has less lights than a cemetary....!” warned the brave Guardsman.

****

As they ran passed the Dragon Park factories, Lembit and Charlotte suddenly froze.

Any unexpected movement frightened them as they were on a heightened state of alert.

The cause this time , was the tumbleweed blowing through passed the deserted Hoovers production lines.

“ Tumbleweed...isn’t native to Britain is it?” asked Charlotte catching the rolling plant.

“ No... it is American....but this one was made in the Far East ...at an eighth of the cost!” announced Opik.

“ We gave a Company a National Assembly Grant to make it in the Rhondda once...but once the Grant money was up...they moved on to a less desolate place in Siberia to make more profit!” continued the TV AM.

“Keeping following the railway line ...there’s no increased frequency trains to Cardiff yet ...but there’s loads to the Party leader’s constituency in North Wales!” he declared calling on his insider information.

As they crept along the railway lines they made tracks for Troedyrhiw station.

Narrowly missing the stones thrown at the trains by the youths on the railway bridge, they slunk their way into Bridge Street, taking shelter in the shadows outside the disused Tabernacle chapel in Elm Street.

“ Palm Sundae- lap dancing club....this looks like a good place to ‘hole up’! ”declared Opik as his narrow frame squeezed past the flimsy wooden boards which had been boarded up by the Local Council’s works in default team.

He removed the rest of the boards from the inside, to allow Chapel to enter the old chapel.

“ I can’t imagine this holy place being desecrated with man- paste like that !” continued Charlotte looking down at the rows of pews and stained glass windows still intact.

Opik stood in the pulpit and jokingly announced in his best Reverend voice......” The first hymn at our opening service is ....Come ...all ye unfaithful....!”

The Voice of an Angel was quick to chastise the politician and continued to explore the 120 year old chapel built during the temperance revival at the turn of the Century.

“I bet the acoustics are wonderful here..!” .she exclaimed before letting out a scream of excitement.

“ Look what I found.....!” tossing an object to preacher Opik .

“ Crème eggs left over from the Easter egg service.....over 50 of them!” she cried excitedly.

“ How do you eat yours?!!!!!” asked Opik as he bit the head clean off and drained the cream inside.

“ As quickly as possible !” announced Charlotte polishing off her 4th egg!”

The sound of a jeep screeching to a halt outside alerted Charlotte.

“ That bloody paparazzi always catch me pigging out ...they never film me eating salad!”.

Outside, South African Big Game Hunter Frederick Kruger- Rand had followed the electronic bugging device implanted in the prison chain and had the place surrounded.

There was no escape.

There was to be a nightmare on Elm Street Troedyrhiw.

“ If I die now....announced Charlotte...I die happy !” as she pushed in the 50th Crème Egg and collapsed like Cool Hand Luke unable to move.

As the front was kicked in and the South African Gunman Freddie- Kruger -Rand unloaded the full cartridge into the forehead of Opik he was seen to utter the prayer...’Deliverance from evil’

*****

Deliverance was co-incidentally, also on the mind of Shan Lloyd as she sailed passed the Phillipstown woods.

As the Tesco trolley came to a halt in the shallows...Western & Lloyd made their way inland towards the tree-line hoping to find some signs of civilisation.

The sound of a banjo playing up on the hillside meant they had found it.

The sound of the banjo playing got louder as a second banjo player sight unseen joined in a musical battle.

‘Duelling Banjos’ played faster and faster until the chained pair entered a clearing and the scene looked like the village in ‘Defiance’.

The wooden hut at the centre of the clearing was surrounded by pig pens and other animal enclosures filled with a menagerie of creatures too ugly to describe.

As Western knocked at the door with some trepidation.

It was answered by a 90 year old man with piercing blue eyes and swept back blond hair dressed in a smart army regalia and sporting a panama hat.

“ Are you the one they call Papillion ?” asked the Paraguayan ex- Nazi.

“ Let me see your chest?” he barked.

Western opened his prison uniform to reveal a blue butterfly shape on his chest.

“Was it der Red Admiral or a Swallowtail? “ asked the inquisitor.

“ It was the Sir Galahad...but it sorta melted....!” came the reply.

“ I have never caught a Sir Galahad before in my nets!....I suppose you too seek sanctuary from your Government...?” he continued.

Western nodded ...causing a rippled effect so that the butterfly seemed to move on his loose skin.

“ We take all sorts here....but first we must hide you both till your pursuers give up hope..... quick hide.... in the far pens in amongst the pigs...they wont look for you in there but we need to remove your chains it might be bugged.....and believe me as a Lepidopterist...I know a lot about bugs!”

“ But what about the smell.....?” asked Lloyd wrinkling her nose and two trout pout lips.

“ The pigs won’t mind!” was the reply

********************************************************************

As Tyrone Sullivan and Maureen Driving School emerged from beneath the Merthyr Vale Colliery site they pushed up a trap-door entrance covered only by a thin grass covering...it was reminiscent of a scene from the Great Escape.

Still chained together , they knew they had to get to Darren Las and Murphy Walsh if they were to have any chance of escape.

As they stole along Cardiff Road, they decided to hole up in the disused Police Station

Surely no-one would think of looking in there for escaped prisoners.

The station had been unmanned since the 1984 Miner’s strike and the subsequent closure of the Merthyr Vale pit.

As they hid in the former cells they began to realise that they needed to get rid of the chains and tried to form a plan how to do it.

“ Look at this diary...I found here !” said Maureen.

“ Do you know anybody who lived at 10 Rillington Place.....?” asked Maureen....

“ Let me see that....?” demanded Tyrone Sullivan.

“ Timothy Evans...!” she continued innocently.

“ That memorabilia would be worth a fortune at a Christies’ Auction!” announced the ex-miner.

The last entry in it is ....”don’t hit me again Sargeant ...I’ll say I did it and sign the confession”

The conversation was halted at the screech of the safari jeep’s brakes outside the front of the station.

“ I’m knackered... !” declared Maureen ....I’m one for negotiating with our pursuers ...our Government ....they wouldn’t hang an innocent man.... would they?”

Tyrone , using all his strength from cutting coal for four decades lifted his companion to her feet and dragged her through the back entrance.

As they fled down the tramroad towards Darren Las they covered the chains in oil spills from the former Oaklands garage to reduce the strength of the transmitting location signal.

“ Look for the house with a car with the disabled parking sticker on it...whispered Sullivan...that will be Murphy Walsh’s place!”

“ Every car in Darren Las...has got one....!” came the reply from the car expert.

“ It is a Land Rover Discovery with dodgy Sat Nav and a boot full of old rugby boots!” he suggested quietly.

As the dynamic duo crawled into the back garden of one of the houses they suddenly froze.

“ One more move and I’ll beat you both to death with my stick !” said the former Merthyr Vale slugger.

“ What’ll you pair be doing crawling around the estate at this time of day....have you been on the Worthy Best in the Windsor Hotel all day?” asked Murphy stoutly.

“ It’s me....Micky...your old friend Tyrone Sullivan....!” came the reply.

“ What ....from Tower Colliery ...I thought I could smell anthracite...!” asked the Walsh checking there were no DSS around before standing up straight.

“ How can I help ....brother of the dust...!” he continue.

“ Do you have an axe?” asked Maureen.

“ My chopper is always available to any woman under 75 years of age!” .....he replied....”....everyone in Darren Las carries an axe...since they banned carrying knives....we need them to settle neighbour disputes!”

As they tried to chop at the chains...the oil covering made them greasy and the sound began to attract attention from other Darren Las natives.

“ Try the railway line !” suggested Walsh as he closed his back door....and good luck comrade!”

As the pair headed towards the newly erected ‘Ethnic Lion’ railway bridge, their exertions of the day were taking their toll on the elderly prisoners.

“ I don’t like the prospect of straddling the railway line .....with the chain...!” moaned the now shattered Maureen.

“ It will be fine....the trains only run every hour...it is due anytime now...”

As he lay on the inside of the track nearest Darren Las, he did have a bad feeling about this one but would not admit it to his fellow chainee.

Suddenly , the 3.15pm from Merthyr Tydfil to Cardiff Valley line train rounded the corner and severed the chain.

Unfortunately, the 3.15pm from Cardiff to Merthyr Tydfil valley line train also rounded the corner and poor Maureen became the new face of Arriva Trains Wales, as her false teeth, hair net and other facial features became part of the Railway network.

“ I forgot the Welsh Assembly had increased the frequency of the empty trains to Cardiff !” groaned Tyrone picking up his single ankle chain and ran like ‘Roots own’ Kunta Kinte towards the cover of the A470 Expressway woodland .

He rushed about from tree to tree like an extra from the Blair Witch Project.

Like a human frogger, he skipped across the dual carriageway heading for the Edwardsville Giants Bite- a huge quarry marking the County boundary with his beloved Cynon Valley.

With his heart pounding and coal-dust filed lungs straining worse than a 3 year old Merthyr Vale smoker, the local hero scrambled up the scree embankment towards freedom.

Behind him, he could hear the cries of ‘Tally- ho’ and ‘So-Ho’ of the American Huntsman Jim Crow , above the sound of the quad bike in close proximity.

As he reached the summit, he was cruelly taken down by a cross bow shot to the back.

“ They don’t call you Lord Sagittarius for nuttin...!” announced the Senator for Texas as the quarry dropped into the quarry.

“ Go get him boy....!” announced the peer....” I am the first among equals !” he declared loudly as the sound reverberated around the limestone walls.

After all I am the Zodiac killer...he muttered under his breath

As the mortally wounded Tyrone Sullivan crawled towards the Cynon Valley, he was struck across the head by Jim Crow with a huge walking -stick.

“ Cane and un-abel!” hooted the Texan throwing his ten gallon hat into the air.

“ I only needs me an Obama to get the full set .....roll on Dallas in August !”

*****************************************************************


Jade Goodie and Earnie ran down the slip road as if their lives depended on it.

The footballer was a superb athlete but his co- prisoner hadn’t stuck to her fitness video rules.

Avoiding goodies, was what Earnie had wanted to do in the Prison draw...why couldn’t he have been matched with Bappy Yorath.....they might have stood a chance.

“ Oh look ...said Jade sweetly....a giant sand-pit...

!” “Can we stop and play ?”she announced sweetly fluttering her eyelids at her fellow escapee .

“ Jade...that sand isn’t from East Anglia , Rio De Janeiro or other foreign place ....it’s a lorry escape lane...and if we don’t get a move on we will be buried under there!” announced Earnie grabbing her arm and leading her to the rear of the Co-op Leo’s Superstore.

As they climbed the spoil tips, they were watched by many Pentrebach people who assumed they were just on a stag and hen night.

The ‘Defiant ones’ slipped and slided to the rear of Old Duffryn

“ Careful Jade....it’s like a ski slope by there....!”

As they reached the ridge overlooking Troedyrhiw, Jade spotted an empty hang-glider so favoured by local thrill seekers perched ready for take off.

The owner was relieving himself in some gorse bushes behind the ridge.

As Jade and Earnie ran past , she stumbled getting her trotter caught in a hole and it launched the two of the chainees towards the kite- glider and off into the air.

The Troedyrhiw thermal threw the mismatched ‘Wright Brothers’ high into the air, only to drop them like a stone onto the valley floor towards the Merthyr Tydfil Industrial Park at Pentrebach.

Narrowly missing the A470 Road bridge, the glider crashed through the roof of the empty Slimbec research building.

“ Well...I never .....!”declared the angry hang- glider pilot from the mountain high above....fly still undone....he put away his pork sword .....”I didn’t know pigs could fly!” Dusting themselves down, Earnie and Jade released that they were in a science laboratory of some kind.

All manner of genetic experiments were being carried out to try and find the cure for the common cold amongst all their other excellent scientific research for the benefit of mankind.

There were filing cabinets everywhere and details of the human test subjects were impeccably stored.

Curiosity, got the better of Jade who opened the J cabinet first and then G realising they were in surname order.

“ Look ....she announced to Earnie...I’ve got my own card....I’ve made it ...I really am a celebrity....famous for......what .....even I don’t know!”

Earnie stopped he was too busy reading his own card in disbelief.

“Earnie Robshaw....product of genetic engineering experiment in 1964....crossed sperm of human donor (Edison Arantes Do Nasimento) with pig and rabbit dna....half of batch allied to Jade Goodie...false identity to state born in Zambia.”

“ So that means your .......my ...Big..... Brother!....at least I had the looks DNA?” comforted Jade.

“ So whose my dad? ....oh yeah naturalist and comedian Bill Oddie...so that’s were Goodie came from.!” She continued.

“ Pig DNA....vivisection...genetic experiments ...cloning sheep and pigs...what is the world coming too....moaned Earnie shaking his head in disbelief....we were Guinea Pigs...created and stirred in a test tube....its like Jurassic Pork!”

“ You’re my ....Guinea ....Pig brother ....!” squealed Jade excitedly.

She was even more excited when she caught sight of the red dot appearing in the mirror on her forehead.

“ Look at me...I’m like Shilpa Machete...wobbling her body and head like a nine-armed Indian Goddess Kali.....and you ...my pig brother... have a red dot too!” she exclaimed.

It was the last words , that Jade ever spoke as the laser sight from the South African Twelve Boer rifle disappeared to be replaced by a bullet-hole.

The last words through Earnie’s mind before the bullet removed them was “ Dad was ....Pele....great... no wonder I was good !”

*****


Looking through the bars of his latest prison , Western could make out all manner of shapes and sizes of human/ animal hybrids.

There were pigs with dogs heads on , sub- humans with rabbit fur known as Pubic Hares, and a variety of cross human/pig animals all with bizarre features.

Lloyd continued un-phased snuffling about in the mud for a truffle

. “ I heard New Tredegar was bad...but this takes the biscuit!”

“ No biscuits...but the truffles are blinding ! said Lloyd face covered in mud and pigswill....” and all this mud does wonders for the complexion...!””

“ Do you think I give a stuff about my complexion...said Western angrily...”It’s no skin off my nose!”

“ So what do you zink of our Animal Farm?” interrupted their captor Joseph Mengele....” It is a genetic work of genius...Der Fuhrer had the foresight that to really upset the Jewish people we should start injecting people with pig DNA.....that way one day we could stop them breeding with gentiles and reduce the size of the gene pool....a bit like New Tredegar only on a grander scale....”

“ The Navy boys on the Galahad had that video ‘Animal Farm’.... is this site where it was filmed? “ asked Western.

“ This site is famous for having produced a number of celebrity humans and animal hybrids....the Paraguayian exile continued.....do you remember the pushme/pullyu llama in the Rex Harrison film Dr Doolittle...that was my first one....the giant white cat in the Goodies, that was a favour for one of sperm donors in the early seventies..... one of our animals made it as far up as White House Advisor to President Ronald Regan old Bonzo was one of our many success stories...ve also have developed a number of test tube piglet babies that have gone on to make it as celebrities in the field of the arts...........you can usually spot them easily as they have a special propensity for the performing arts but age very quickly facially.....”

“ Jo Brand.... (comedy) , John Sargeant (Dance) John Merrick (films)....!”

“ Andrew Lloyd Webber?” asked Western.

“ Where do u zink he got the idea for the musical ‘Cats!” announced the Teutonic Superboffin.

“ Michael Winner? “ asked Western searching his memory banks for such characters who fitted the bill.

“ No ...he is just ugly!” declared the Master-raced Mendel.

“ Why do they all start with Jo... is it because they are named after their Frankenstein creator?” asked Lloyd eating the last of her truffle.

“ Aha...very perceptive...we could do with some new genes and your smart ones and good looks will mix well with our courageous Soldier boy here” said the Nazi scientist.

“ Ve have some wonderful new French and Russian pig specimens to introduce you too......Napoleon and Trottersky....are dying to meet you both!”

The sight of the two huge porkers waddling across the Animal Farm towards the enclosure was enough for Lloyd to faint outright.

“ I know I’ve been with some dogs on shore leave in Hong Kong...but I ain’t making bacon with them fellas!” countered Western.

“ One man CAN make a difference!” said the Nazi torturing him with a the slogan from a television campaign.

“ Orwell that ends well Pig Brother!” muttered the Nazi ......” It’s the final solution!”