Island Blackmailing - the plot thickens

Island terrorist Al MacQaeda, pictured kneeling down in full Al MacQaeda Highland Island tartan regalia, was spotted 'acting suspiciously' at the marquee tent down at the ferry termial in the wee hours of Saturday night. MacQaeda was 'caught in the act' by ornathologist and keen amateur photographer, Fred Twitter, liaising with his merry band of fellow Al MacQaeda hoodlums, whilst tampering with the electrics.

News just in suggests that the group of rebels were plotting to pull the plug during the third half of Saturday night's ceilidh, when they were interrupted by Fred Twitter's camera flash.

PC Hugh Dunnett said, "We are not sure at this point what Al MacQaeda planned to do once the lights were out."

When asked if he thought that this attempt to pull the plug was connected to Torquil's recent blackmail letter, PC Dunnett said, "We can't rule out anything at this point but can I ask everyone not to panic, to stay alert, and to report any further suspicious behaviour to the local police station.”

He continued, “Meanwhile, I am studying Fred Twitter’s photograph very carefully and trying to establish the identity of the other Al MacQaeda rebels. If you recognize anyone in the photograph, please contact me immediately by leaving a message in the comments section below.”

Ah! I'm being blackmailed

I deciphered the message – “Surrender your clapdarnachs.”

Who would want to threaten me?

(Darn, I forgot to pay my garage bill to Wullie Spanners.)

Mystery Hate Mail?

I received a sheet of plain paper in the mail, with four giant words cut from newspaper headlines pasted on the front.

CRUNCHED DRY SNORER SLURP!

Is there a dyslectic blackmailer on the island?

or. . .

Is it an anagram?

Help?

Scottish Highland Island Tourist Enterprise

In a recent meeting at the Dangly Crystal Balls Dance Hall, the ladies of the church knitting guild decided to form a volunteer tourist information group, calling themselves the Scottish Highland Island Tourist Enterprise.

S.H.I.T.E. will be available down at the Dangly Crystal Balls Dance Hall from 10 a.m. until 11 a.m. and from 3 p.m. until 4 p.m., Monday to Friday to coincide with the arrival of the morning and afternoon ferry. Initially the service will be available only during the busy tourist season.

Members of S.H.I.T.E. elected Edith Twatt as chief coordinator, due to her extensive experience designing and erecting signposts in the Orkney isles. Edith is picutred here beside one of her self penned autobiographical signs. Well done Edith!

Dippy Seamus tries to fathom new road network

Every time Dippy Seamus lays some tarmac he changes his mind and alters the direction of the roads. Mayhem rules and traffic remains at a stand still.

Big Maggie Ann is getting awful cross, as she can't get to the beauty salon.

(Trust me, she needs to go!)

Farquar Bogg Promises Jim'll Fix It!

In a desperate dash to restore the island’s road network, Farquar Bogg of the Agriculture, Rumba-dancing and Sanitation Department, consulted with Coinneach, the psychic crow, in a top secret meeting down at the wool shop.

At 1:30 p.m on Monday, PC Hugh Dunnett, accompanied by Woodworm Willie’s three-legged sniffer dog, Tripod, inspected the back room of the wool shop for bugging devices. PC Dunnett then radioed an ‘all clear’ message to Farquar for the meeting to begin at 2 p.m. and stood guard in the corridor outside the door.

Meanwhile, in the back yard, local window cleaner, Phillip MacBucket, reported the following conversation coming from the building.

“Thanks for coming so quickly, Coinneach,” said Farquar.

Coinneach puffed out his feathers and answered smugly, “I got here as the crow flies.” Then, tapping his foot rhythmically, the wise crow entered a trance and offered these words of wisdom concerning the mayhem caused by the Antique Road Show. “Caw. Jim’ll fix it!”

Later that evening, local jazz musician and island’s IT specialist, Hacker Bilk, divulged that Farquar Bogg received an ‘out of the office’ reply from his email to Sir Jimmy Saville. Hacker said that Farquar Bogg remained positive and wrote to various other Jims, looking for a quick fix.

Jim McColl, of Beechgrove Garden fame, replied, saying, “Sorry, I can’t help re-pave the roads just now Farquar. I’ve spilled fence paint on my corduroys, causing a bad case of greenfly.” In another reply, James Taylor said that he’d seen fire and he’d seen rain, he’d seen sunny days that he thought would never end, he’d seen lonely times when he could not find a friend but, sorry, he couldn’t see a way to fit the roads back together again.

Morag the librarian added to the report. “Running out of Jims, Farquar Bogg entered the library van and asked for a Gaelic dictionary from the reference section. He opened it and dragged his index finger down until it rested on ‘James’. “Aha! Of course. . . Seamus,” he exclaimed. When the ladies from the knitting circle called out, “Shhh!”, Farquar inhaled a deep breath and ran out to telephone Dippy ‘Seamus’, Daft Uisdean’s cousin, from the public phone box across from where a road used to be.

“Hello, Dippy Seamus,” he said. “Coinneach Crow said that you would help me to put all the roads back where they belong. Can you do it, please?” A smile of relief spread across Farquar’s face. “You can? Great! Meet me at the ferry terminal in ten minutes.”

To be continued. . .

Meanwhile, Big Maggie Ann walked into the pub with a slab of tarmac under her arm. "A pint of Tenants," she said, "and one for the road."