Larry and Mick Become Newsreaders for the Day

'This way to the studio,' said the Best Boy or Grip or Gaffer or whatever-he-was.
' 'Ang on, I just need to adjust my hat,' said Larry.
Larry and Mick were very excited. They had just won a competition to become newsreaders for the day. Technically it was only for one person, but as they had entered the competition together, they had managed to talk the TV people into letting them share the prize. The competition had been a Spot-the-Ballbearing competition. Don't ask.
'How does my natty, floral-patterned, oversized bowtie look?' said Mick.
'Beautiful,' said Larry. 'How does my pink, polka-dot trilby look?'
'Truly divine,' said Mick. 'Have a mint.'
'Why?'
'Your breath smells of Quorn.'
'But the viewers won't get that.'
'I will. It will put me off my stride.'
Larry harumph'd and reluctantly took a mint. He popped it into his mouth and went acckk! as it was actually a Fisherman's Friend.
'What's wrong?' said Mick.
'It's a Fisherman's Friend!' said Larry.
'Sorry, here have some toothpaste...'
Larry spat out the Fisherman's Friend and Mick squirted some toothpaste into his gob.
Acckk! said Larry, as the toothpaste went down his gullet.
'What's wrong?' said Mick.
'The toothpaste has gone down my gullet!'
'You're not supposed to eat it!' said Mick.
'I know that!' said Larry. 'But I was engaged in the disposal of a Fisherman's Friend, when you prematurely squirted toothpaste into my gob!'
'Sorry,' said Mick. 'Here, have some--'
'No more!' said Larry, who slapped a hand over his mouth just as Mick was about to pour something viscous and blue into it. 'You'll just have to put up with the smell of Quorn.'
'Is it Quorn Chunks or Quorn Mince?'
'Southern Fried Quorn Burgers.'
'Oh well, that's not so bad then.'
Larry and Mick were ushered into the studio by the Best Boy or Grip or Gaffer or whatever-he-was. They took their seats behind the big desk and blinked into the stupidly bright lights.
A disembodied voice said, 'Larry Lampshade and Mick Mastodon reading the news in 10... 9...'
'So what news are you reading?' said the Best Boy or Grip or Gaffer or whatever.
'Pardon?' said Larry.
'What piece of news have you brought to read for us today?'
('6...' said the disembodied voice)
'Nothing,' said Larry. 'We thought--'
'Didn't you read the smallprint?'
Larry looked at Mick.
Mick shrugged.
'Fuck me, I'm surrounded by idiots.'
('3... 2...')
You'll just have to make something up.'
('1...')
'Go!'
'But...' said Larry and Mick in unison.
But then a big neon sign came on, saying they were 'ON AIR.'

* * *

LARRY LAMPSHADE: And here is the news, with me, Larry Lampshade...

MICK MASTODON: And me, Mick Mastodon.

[uncomfortable pause]

LARRY LAMPSHADE: A man, today, slipped over on a patch of...

MICK MASTODON: Ribena.

LARRY LAMPSHADE: ... Ribena... outside Sainsbury's. He fell into an old lady, who hit him over the head with a...

MICK MASTODON: Cucumber.

LARRY LAMPSHADE: ... with a cucumber... The man was knocked out cold and was kept in hospital overnight for observation. The old lady was charged with Assault With a Deadly Vegetable.

MICK MASTODON: Fruit.

LARRY LAMPSHADE: Fruit?

MICK MASTODON: Vegetable.

LARRY LAMPSHADE: Vegetable.

MICK MASTODON: ...

LARRY LAMPSHADE: ...?

MICK MASTODON: And on a lighter note... three Alsatian puppies were today the first quadrapedal mammals to be awarded a degree in...

LARRY LAMPSHADE: Sociology.

MICK MASTODON: Tinned Meat Studies... at the University of...

LARRY LAMPSHADE: Colorado.

MICK MASTODON: Cardiff... Local celebrity...

LARRY LAMPSHADE: Tom Jones.

MICK MASTODON: Charlotte Church... presented the awards, and was later heard to remark, 'They're so-o-o cute! Can I take one home with me?' The curvaceous Celtic chantreuse...

LARRY LAMPSHADE: ...?

MICK MASTODON: [shrugs] ... was then leapt on by the puppies, who simultaneously nibbled her right ankle, humped her left calf and tore a sizeable chunk out of the seat of her dress, then returned to the campus canteen to resume their...

LARRY LAMPSHADE: Dinner.

MICK MASTODON: Studies.

BEST BOY OR GRIP OR GAFFER OR WHATEVER: Cut!

* * *

'That was fun!' said Mick to Larry, over a pot of Darjeeling and a custard slice, in the BBC canteen.
'Yes,' said Larry to Mick.
'Although I wish you hadn't interrupted me so,' said Mick.
'I interrupted you?' said Larry.
'I had it all under control, Larry,' said Mick. 'I can't help it if I'm more of a natural at these things than you.'
Mick had his reservations about the swiftly arriving adornment of Larry's half of the custard slice on his conk. I could get used to it, though, he thought, as he drank some tea.

[ fin ]