Well, all good things come to an end and after Fifteen weeks Maggie has completed her journey from John O Groats to Land's End
For those of you who have forgotten:
Margaret Mills, semi-retired Bed & Breakfast (small hotel) owner embarked on a journey from the most northern part of mainland Britain to the most southern, travelling via mobility scooter. Along her journey she has kept in constant contact with her friend and co-worker Bernard "Spud" Maris via letter and text. Spud himself has been trying to woo Denise the cheerleader and establish the location of his slightly dodgy friend Tosser
Along the way Maggie has caused inadvertant mayhem via stopping a bank robbery, destruction of property (Harry Potter audio books), two cases of accidental assault (against the same marine biologist) and burglary.
Just before leaving on her journey Maggie was seen in the Casbah Club accepting a package from Tosser containing powder. This was shortly after Tosser left Mandala Pharmaceuticals following the disappearance of a large amount of Heroin.
In the penultimate episode Maggie had finally been caught by the police just less than thirty miles from her final destination and was about to reveal all...
As usual the ever brilliant Raven at http://ravensviews.blogspot.com/ sets us the task of writing either a mini, a main or a maxi (or all three) using a set of words that have been defined for the week. This week I really have no cause to complain, having suggested the words myself. Did i deliberately choose any of the words for my story? Just one - but I'll leave it to you to guess which.
Thanks to everyone for keeping up with Mags and her journey - I've been really pleased with the levels of interest and response. It is my intention to print off all the episodes, go back, re-write and maybe send as a radio script. If this happens I will let you all know. In the mean time I will be taking a break from Wordzzle for the next few weeks as there are several other things I want to write about and haven't had the chance.
PS: The reasons for Maggies journey go no further - or she'll be round with a rolling pin.
PPS: A Maris Piper is a kind of potato, and the slang in the UK for potato is "Spud". Just thought you should know!
Words for 10-word challenge are: Badger, roll out the barrel, amazing, a lovely cup of tea, pressure, frozen, gandalf, pixies, top gear
And for the mini: smelly, politician, favourite, token gesture, garden
WEEK FIFTEEN, PENZANCE – LAND’S END
NEWSPAPER HEADLINE, WEDNESDAY 20TH JANUARY:
“STOLEN” DRUGS FOUND: CHAIRMAN ADMITS “THEY WERE BEHIND A FILING CABINET ALL THE TIME”
6 O’CLOCK NEWS, THURSDAY 21ST JANUARY
REPORTER #1: The crowds have been out along the shores of Land’s End for some hours now, despite the frozen air and the low temperatures: each one of them has come to welcome the now legendary Bed & Breakfast owner Mrs Margaret Mills as she reaches the end of her fifteen week journey from the most northerly point of mainland Great Britain in John O’Groats to the most southerly at Land’s End.
Just this morning it was revealed that the Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, had submitted to pressure from the Margaret Mills Liberation Front to drop all charges against Mrs Mills in the light of the revelations from Mandala Pharmaceuticals Chairman Timothy Lumsden that there never were any stolen drugs
CUT TO SHOT OF A MAN DRESSED, RATHER BADLY, AS AN OLD LADY. CAPTION: MR DEREK KINKADE, PRESIDENT OF THE MMLF
KINKADE: We at the Margaret Mills Liberation Front feel that this is a triumph of public opinion over bloody minded legality. We said from the start that we felt it could all be settled over a lovely cup of tea and we are glad to have been proven correct
TEXT FROM BERNARD “SPUD” MARIS
U shd’ve sed u were in Marbella, doin deal wiv Simon Cowell’s record bods
We woz rite worrid u’d skarperd
Amazing nuws 4 “Woe Is Me”. Denise sez she’ll download the single nex Friday, as how that’s wen her fone line gets put bak on
Is it tru that bloke from The Pixies is produsin u? Thort e were ded?
PS: Soz mate, but Ive askd Mags 2b best man
CHANNEL FOUR NEWS AT SEVEN
REPORTER #2: And the party is really getting underway here at Land’s End as the crowds are scanning the highway for their first glimpse of Mrs Mills. The band here are playing “Roll Out The Barrel” and the beer is flowing freely. I managed to catch a word with Mrs Mills earlier today as she embarked on the final leg of her journey, complete with Police escort
CUT TO BRIEF SHOT OF MAGS, LOOKING LIKE SHE’S HAVING A WHALE OF A TIME
MILLS: Get out me bloody way, you daft bugger: this thing is stuck in top gear and if you don’t move I’ll have your bleeding leg off
REPORTER: Mrs Mills: can I ask you – how do you feel as you approach the end of your journey
MILLS: Knackered, smelly and right ready for a bath – how do you bleeding expect me to feel?
REPORTER: And would you care to tell me what your favourite part of the journey was?
MILLS: No, I bleeding well wouldn’t!
CUT BACK TO REPORTER ON BEACH, NOW STANDING NEXT TO A LADY IN A SMART SUIT AND DEREK KINKADE (STILL DRESSED AS AN OLD LADY)
REPORTER #2: Mrs Mills refused to answer any questions about her journey or give any reason for her trip, her continued silence leading to much speculation for her reasons. (PAUSE)
I’m standing here with Lady Sabrina Mullhollander-Djones, Member of Parliament for Land’s End. Lady Sabrina: you’re here to give Mrs Mills the freedom of Land’s End, surely that’s a token gesture?
LADY SABRINA DOES NOT GET CHANCE TO ANSWER, AS THE CAMERA PANS SHARP LEFT TO A LINE OF FIVE POLICE CARS FLANKING MAGS ON HER MOBILITY SCOOTER AS SHE APPROACHES THE SIGN MARKING LAND’S END. THE REPORTER RUSHES FORWARD WITH THE OTHERS
REPORTER #2: Mrs Mills! How does it feel to finally reach your destination?
MILLS (INDICATING DEREK KINCADE): Here! Why is that daft bugger dressed as a Badger?
REPORTER #2: Mrs Mills, will you please answer some questions.
MILLS: And who’s this posh bit of stuff, stood so straight you’d think she’d had a garden rake shoved up her bum?
LADY SABRINA: I will have you know, Mrs Mills, that I am the right honourable Lady Sabrina Mullhollander-Djones, MP for Land’s End
MILLS: Oh right...well, that’s different then (MAKES A SUDDEN GESTURE)
LADY SABRINA (COUGHING): I say! What the bloody hell did you just throw in my face?
Dear Mrs Peterson
I were right surprised to get your letter from OK magazine, asking as how you want me to give you an exclusive interview for your paper. I can only give you the same answer as what I give to the other papers that asked:
My reasons for travelling ain’t nobody’s business except for those that need to know, or as I wants to know: and each one of them that I has told knows better than to wrong me by telling any of youse lot, as they know I’ll be round there houses with a stick before they can spend a single penny of their filthy lucre
Might as well go and ask Gandalf the wizard for all the good it will do you
My Dearest Margaret
Well, we allus knew this day would come me ducks. Not like we could avoid it, happens to us all as they say.
We’ve had some right good times: like that holiday in Brighton where it rained all week and all we did were sit in the tent just chatting. Don’t think either of us were any happier than we were that day, not ever.
And I’ll never forget the first time I saw you, arm-wrestling with that Policeman. You were seventeen years old and I were twenty, but I knew right there and then that you had to be mine. Your dad once said as how it were women like you that were the reason Hitler never came past Calais, on account of how he knew there’d be people like yourself waiting with a rolling pin, but I allus knew you had a good heart underneath.
And I know that we never did half the things we said we would: I suppose that’s just how things pan out. I never could buy you the things I wanted, nor take you to exotic places that were any further away than Weston Super-mare.
We ain’t talked about it much since Dr Trevors came round the other week, but I guess that me days are numbered and so I’ve set me alarm for the first time in years so that every day I can wake up and see your face one more time...just in case.
Anyways: when I’m gone I don’t just want you sitting there moping me ducks, it just ain’t your style.
So I’ve had a word with your friend Tosser. I know he don’t work at the funeral parlour no more, but I know he still has mates there, and I know he can do what I’ve asked him.
So when he gives you this note and me ashes I want you to take them with you, right away, and travel with them from John O’Groats to Land’s End: just like we allus said we’d do, but never did.
And every time you stop somewhere just throw out a handful of me into the wind and watch where they fall. That way I’ll allus be there: no matter where you are.
Oh: and if you get a chance – save a bit and throw a handful of me into the face of a prominent politician. That way you might just hear me laughter on the wind.
See you in heaven me ducks