Radio Cheese

Remember the Cheddar Wireless? It had a button you could press & a slice of cheese would emerge like a fax.

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‘And now the cheese headlines: dodecahedrons supplant rhomboids as nation’s favourite cheese shape.’

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I don’t think it was real Cheddar, and it only worked during the ‘comedy’ programmes.

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‘A word from our sponsors: Generals! Cheese caltrops have been scientifically proven to slow down the dreaded charge of the Giant Sumatran Rat Cavalry.’

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You’d never get away with the hot setting now, on which melted cheese would pour out onto your carefully-positioned toast.

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‘Tonight on “All our Wensleydales”: how early Cheese Scrabble sets were often made from Gorgonzola, with the blue veins forming the letters.’

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I had a friend from Lancashire who claimed you received different cheeses by region: I wonder if that could be true?

Imaginary Friend Advices/The House of Weeping

‘Always check if the pavement is frozen before you choose to lick it.’

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The Orphanage for Imaginary Friends AKA ‘The House Of Weeping’ is an invisible building hovering six feet above the ground in most city squares.

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‘If you wake up with a defrosting chicken on your foot then you have had more than your RDA of alcoholic beverages.’

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Lanky chaps often strike their foreheads off the doorstep of the invisible levitating Orphanage, giving rise to momentary glassy titterings.

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‘Pea aubergines are not aubergines that someone has ingeniously hollowed out, then peed into.’

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Those who long ago spurned their imaginary friends gather in squares and piazzas to listen to weepings and whisperings from the Orphanage.

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‘There’s no such thing as a “margarine of error” and so no point in establishing if it’s better for you than butter.’

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They hope to recognise one voice among the sussurating pandemonium just above their grey or balding heads, one echo of their old beloved daimon.

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‘If Chekhov’s “loaded gun” hasn’t been produced by the end of Act One, that is no reason to discharge one of your own.’

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No-one else can hear the voices from the Orphanage of Imaginary Friends. They stomp across the square, heads down, glaring at the listeners.

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‘Even if it could be proved that comets are cheeseballs, the cost of probes to mine Alien Cheese would be prohibitive.’

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Desperate to be reunited with their long lost pals, the Imaginary Friends have long since tempered their advices: they try for ‘sensible’…

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‘You can run fast, jump in the air, close your eyes, and start to pedal, but you will not therefore be riding a flying bicycle.’

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The Director of the Orphanage approaches, and all the Friends fall silent. The listeners cower as with one enormous step he enters the building and vanishes.

Ape Clown: four snapshots

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Ape Clown mashes acrobats and slurps them up. The crowd applauds in horror. Bums on seats, my friend. Bums on seats.

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The cage is empty. Ape Clown must be out on the tiles. In doorways: drowned women, dredged from neon dreams.

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Even Ape Clown has moments of nakedness. The mask comes off, then the greasepaint, then the skin. The hours wilt.

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Ape Clown dreams of immortality. But we barely remember what he looks like. A devil? A man? Not that it matters.