Folks,

Dux:
Really OT!

One could do worse I think than have Britain as a friend. Perhaps this naming of places is a shared but sincere form of flattery?

Groan! Gag! Before everyone gets to see what I had for lunch, don't you have any kind of meat inspection in the UK? Surely after the 'mad cow' mess a while back something has been instituted....

All meat has to pass vigorous inspection over here. Anything packaged as meat must have actually been part of a living animal at some point recent or past. It can't stink too much or have too much fur or feathers on it. More and more animals are being accepted as worthy of slaughter and ultimate consumption these days. Buffalo and ostrich are two new critters that spring to mind.

Around here there is a lot of deer hunting. Deer are multiplying rapidly and man has encroached upon their dwindling habitat. They are a real nuisance in some areas, a danger in others. All of us motorists have either struck or been struck by deer at some point. Little boys get their first gun with their first pair of pants if not sooner around here. I know several hunters who pride themselves on their venison sausage. Frankly that is the only way I eat venison these days.

There is a little market just outside of town that specializes in packaging all the various parts of the porcine race. I dare say that if you wanted to construct a pig from scratch you could get all the necessary parts there in only a few minutes. They care about quality and make great pork sausage.

We all love hot dogs. And hot dogs are actually sausages. I defy anyone who has not already done so to read the label on their next package of wieners. Not all but many include tripe and various other unpalatable sounding ingredients, snouts, ears and the like. All but the skeleton of brer piggy is considered edible by someone. It is good then not to be a pig.

'Duxy to JRT... where the *crackle* are you? Just clobbered *click* that He 59 off *whistle* Goodwin Sands lightship...looked round *crackle* and you'd bally well gawn!'

Thinks...Hope he hasn't beetled awf back to raid my locker again. He knows that bottle of Jack D is reserved to celebrate the return of SNAFU and C51. I think they must be in OflagIVb for the duration...

BTW: I have seen zebra meat for sale at our local outdoor market. No joke!

Folks,

Check six once and a while Old Man. I'm right here on your tail. Tat!Tat!Tat!Tat!

I was simply waiting for you to sort out the sticky bits and get back on-line. Hopefully all is well now and you will be ready for duty daily. I agree that it seems FF SNAFU has eaten a dirt sandwich or perhaps swallowed more than his share of 100% fat free Channel water. I think C51 is OK. He is a POW and may return in time. I know he continues to remain interested.

Zebra meat is for sale you say? What part of Kenya is Derbyshire in anyway? Hmmmm. A bit exotic and much too equine for my own taste ... but lions do swear by it. Southerners will cheerfully eat lotsa odd stuff. I was offered possum once but I declined. Hog brains are considered a tasty New Years treat around here... alas I have not enjoyed that particular treat either, well not as far as I can remember. I cannot claim to remember a great deal about what I've been up to on any New Year's Eve.

A bottle of Jack Daniels sour mash (the breakfast of champions) is being hoarded! Blasphemy! Has your bottle been properly tested for the deadly hangover virus? If it does not have a stamp to that effect then I would get it tested right away.

Unfortunately I just remembered that there are very few people in the world who know the proper procedure for this highly scientific process. Fortunately for you I have been properly trained by none other than Jack Daniels himself; and I am eager and ready to come to your assistance.

You seem to be hesitating? You're probably worried that this is going to be expensive. Do not worry Mate, we won't need much special equipment. I have everything we need except one or two small items. To start testing, all we'll need is that bottle, some ice cubes and a tall glass....

Neeeeeeeeeer, pop, pop/

A spit smoking and full of holes bumps up and down on the grass strip. The engine still running at about 30% throttle and still rolling at about 15mph the conopy rolls back and out pops a small lad jumping from the cockpit and rolling over the wings before realisng the aircraft has a tail wheel and then a quick get up and run for you life. The figure walks over to the two stunned pilots watching from there scramble shed, one of them remarks, Mad is back.

The figure from the aircraft walks upto the pilots and simply says 'hey guys did yer miss me'. Before the pilots have the time to respond theres a big bang as the spit still rolling rolls over the back of a garden fence at the end of the field.

Folks,

Mad:

LOL!

Welcome home. We did indeed notice you were missing. We thought you might have been captured (by our side or theirs) so we checked the squadron notice board daily. We ruled out your being a POW early because there was no news from Germany offering to surrender if we took you back.

Dux remarked just the other day about how much he missed you and that tenner you borrowed. I thought I had glimpsed you lurking about now and again but hiding from Olga as I was at the time, I never had the opportunity to be sure.

You honor us with your return. All air opps are curtailed by the weather right now so grab a stool, kick up yer heels on the bar and help me with the arduous task of testing Dux's bottle of whiskey for the dreaded hangover virus... no, he had to leave for a bit. He thinks he has another bottle secreted somewhere and he wants me to test that one too. Quite right, he is a good mate and a fine pilot. When I think fondly of him I just thank my lucky stars every day that intelligence is not a particularly important criterion for fighting in this war....

Gentlemen,

JRT,

The stall that flogs the zebra meat also offers other exotic species, probably endangered, including ostrich. Since he started to operate hereabouts, it has been noticed that the horse drawn cabs, milk floats and various other modes of equine transportation that still dominate in this part of Derbyshire have declined alarmingly and are now being replaced by steam and petrol driven motor cars.
Go easy on that bottle of amber liquid. It contains my urine sample for the MO's check-up. What? Too late? Never mind... the alcohol content will still be pretty high.

Madsy!

Flippin' heck mate. I've seen you lurking about here and there and wondered when you'd drop in. Weren't you on the T4T forum yonks ago? What happened to that night bomber sim. Perhaps you can elucidate...after you've dragged your Spit out of the Reverend's broccoli patch.

Hey up guys.

Yes I am still here, lurking and posting on all manner of forums, and still playing as many sims as I can. Oh thanks for the wiskey, grabs bottle from JRT's hand.

Traget for tonight went under after some disagreements. But it was all during my offline time so i'm not entirley sure to be honest. I'm now trying to chase up a career in games, another old t4t'er is now living in the US and has moved into the MSFS payware world. The rest of the surviving memebers created 242sqn and we fly each weekend using il-2. We meet up each year at duxford flying legends and even some of the canadian members come over for it which is great as after the show on sat night we all go out on the town for a meal and pint at the eagle pub.

"Oh no whats that sound, is that a scramble!?" Mad stands up bottle in hand.
Hearing nothing but the wind JRT looks confusingly as mad. Once again before JRT can question Mad he runs out the door with bottle still in hand grabbing Old Dux's flying gear on the way out. Jrt stunned and alittle bemused stands up and looks out the window to see Mad running towards one of the two aircraft parked close to the hut. He mutters too himself "please god, dont get in mine!" Luckyily mad trips a little and ends up whacking his head on the spits wing. "Bloody bad luck that crate is" he shouts back to JRT inside the hut. JRT just smiles and thinks to himself it might be bad luck but its mine.

Mad gets back up and picks the other aircraft. At about this point Old dux comes round the corner smiling with another bottle in his hand. Mad looks up, notices the bottle. Dumping the bottle already in his hand inside the cockpit he runs up to old dux and grabs the bottle out of his grasp. "Thanks ill test out your booze and plane all at once" he says. Old dux stands stunned. Mad then notices the stunned state and simply remarks "hey thats a good impression of JRT, and dont worry this testing is genius plane and booze at once, two birds one stone right!?". Within seconds mad is back at the aircraft crawling over the wing and jumping into the pit. Old dux walks over to the hut and asks JRT whats going on. JRT simple says 'mads back. He must still hear that ringing in his ears after that bell ringing incident"

They both look up to see Old duxs spitfire bouncing up and down past them with mad in the pit wrestling with the stick to get her of the ground whilst balancing two open bottles of whiskey in his teeth. Then the spitfire finally gets of the ground and flys off into the distance with a trail of wiskey coming from the open cockpit.

Gentlemen,

First my whiskey, now my beloved kite. Pity he couldn't hear me above the Merlin's roar. I wanted to tell him that the rudder clamp is still in position...but he will find out when he meets the one-o-nines. If Madsy has further designs on any more of my possessions, like Olga, he may wish he was still up there with 'em.

Hang about...that looks like him now, spiralling down towards Farmer Dobbins pig sty. Better get the air freshener ready for his return. Not that Olga will notice...

Folks,

Mad:

As his plane and more importantly his booze, go sputtering away, Dux has a strange, somewhat satisfied gleam in his tired old bloodshots. JRT thinks this is odd for someone who has just been so shamelessly abused and that done by a mate at that. He won't dwell on this thought for long because he knows full well that he is as guilty as sin himself.

Dux laughs a devilish laugh and pulls a full bottle of Jack Daniels from inside his battle dress. He slaps it down on the creaky wooden table causing a cloud of dust to rise a bit and quickly settle. JRT does not wait but instantly picks up the bottle and begins filling two heavily fingerprinted glasses. As he holds his glass to his lips and gazes at the amber fluid swirling about inside he notices lipstick on the rim. Dux's? Naw! Must be the Beer Maid's from down at the Addled Prince. He took a mighty slug as Dux did the same and then before the liquid fire had enough time to pass his scarred epiglottis, he was already pouring himself another big one.

Dux somewhat too protectively for JRT's comfort put the half filled bottle back inside his coat. Then he sat down with a sigh and laughed a huge belly laugh that forced JRT to look at him with the obvious question on his lips.

Nursing his drink, Dux took the hint and before JRT could even ask he smiled broadly and began to explain. JRT listened closely as he recalled that he had noticed this evil glint in Dux's eye only once before on the satisfying occasion when Dux had gotten sweet revenge upon a debt welshing C51 by filling his mate's condoms with cayenne pepper. C51 quickly got over it but Olga never had.

Just then there was a jarring, rumbling, gut rending, crash. All the sirens begin to wail and there was the unmistakable sound of the crash truck's bell. As they raced outside, to JRT's amazement, Dux tells him that he is delighted to relate that, firstly, that bottle of JD Mad so unsociably ripped from his hands was laced with a very strong but odorless and tasteless laxative, secondly, he had not gotten 'round to putting even a thimbleful of petrol into his old kite's tank so that the horrendous crash was probably a surprised Mad landing in one of those hungry oaks that reach up for the unwary at the end of the field. JRT had never seen Dux so pleased with himself.

JRT now had a very self-satisfying grin on his own face as they both ran toward all the commotion at the far end of the grassy field. This grin was suddenly replaced with a dark frown as he reasoned that the laxative laced bottle in question had most likely been meant for him since Dux had no way to know the sticky-fingered Mad was back. JRT's mad dash slowed to a sudden but enlightened halt and, as Dux ran on apparently unnoticing, JRT turned back.

The world had turned upside down. Dux, his easiest mark, his dependable dupe had actually out smarted him. Unthinkable! But for the unquenchable thirst of a just returned prodigal Mad he would now be headed for several unpleasant and noisy hours in the nearest drafty latrine. As he trudged back, deep in thought and self doubt, JRT noticed something lying in the grass. As he neared it he realized what it was. Dux must have dropped the half-filled bottle as they ran toward the crash site. He picked up the bottle and hastily un-corked it whilst keeping one eye peeled on the running Dux.

Over at the end of the field, near Farmer Dobbin's pig sty, he could see Dux was now helping load a huddled, writhing form onto a stretcher. From where he stood it appeared the form on the stretcher was trying desperately to pull down his trousers. JRT chuckled and raised the bottle in a heartfelt toast to his busy comrades.

Then, as the liquid fire ripped down his esophagus, and the Spitfire suddenly came crashing down out of the tree, the dark thoughts returned and he began to walk back. Self searching is thirsty work thought JRT as he took another healthy slug....

Folks,

Dux:

Gulp! Urine specimen? That would explain the faint salty taste then...cough, spit, sputter! Serves me right, I shall never underestimate you again.

In reply to your post regarding the missing draft animals; I can relate to that. Every time a new Oriental restaurant opens in the area the number of feral cats and dogs seems to decline markedly.

To each his own, eh? I was once parked for a red traffic light in front of one of those restaurants. All of a sudden an Oriental chap wearing a white apron ran from around back chasing a fleeing possum. He caught up to the beast right there in the street and grabbed it by the hind feet. For a while the fellow seemed to have the better of the critter as they wound in and out of traffic.

The fellow wearing the apron walked behind the possum holding his hind feet in a way that reminded me of someone pushing a wheel barrow. He was being pulled however and before he could maneuver the hapless creature back to the curb the light changed to green, the traffic started up and the man let go the possum and both scrambled for their lives in opposite directions.

No, although the food was quite good there, I never ate at that particular restaurant again.:)