(I know my grandad doesn't look much like me but that's because I wear recessive jeans)
We love the cricket and the racing. Grandad knows what all the funny men are doing, especially the one in the lab coat who experiments by piling pullovers on himself and sticking his finger in the air. And the racing is pretty cool as well. But the best thing about the racing and the cricket in the afternoons is that they are perfect for falling asleep in front of.
3.30 Newmarket: Afternoon Nap. Odds on Favourite.
And then it’s the best time of the day. Because that’s when the kids programmes start and me and Grandad wake up and watch cartoons, and learn songs and maybe get a bit scared and definitely laugh at jokes and pranks and then watch some sensible drama and stuff.
At least it used to be like that.
Grandad said to me that it’s different now but I thought that was because he is getting older and needs to sleep for longer. So while he was still asleep I decided to go down to ITV Land and see if they needed an extra pair of paws to do the kids’ afternoon slot.
I was really looking forward to seeing all the stars down there: Sooty, Pocoyo and the Cramp Twins. But when I got there, it was all quiet. Not a single kids’ character in sight. Walking round the studios, it was a bit spooky really. My bunny hops echoed eerily and the hair on the back of my bobtail began to rise. I sniffed the air: there was something fetid, pungent, dangerous. I looked round and saw my paw prints tracking back down the corridor. Very odd; I hadn’t trodden in any dog poo. And then there was some scuttling, like a lot of grandads heading for the pavilion at tea.
I turned the corner and bumped straight a whole load of ancient detectives. There was one bloke in a wheelchair but frankly they all looked like they had mobility issues they were so old: Morse, Wexford, Rockford and Jessica Fletcher I recognised but there were loads of others and they all pounced on me, pontificating how I did it and how stupid they were not to have realised it after the first murder but congratulating themselves that now, after five murders and a jolly exciting plot, they had been brilliant enough to work out that the serial killer was in fact a big purple bunny hoping to work in children’s television.
I was really looking forward to seeing all the stars down there: Sooty, Pocoyo and the Cramp Twins. But when I got there, it was all quiet. Not a single kids’ character in sight. Walking round the studios, it was a bit spooky really. My bunny hops echoed eerily and the hair on the back of my bobtail began to rise. I sniffed the air: there was something fetid, pungent, dangerous. I looked round and saw my paw prints tracking back down the corridor. Very odd; I hadn’t trodden in any dog poo. And then there was some scuttling, like a lot of grandads heading for the pavilion at tea.
I turned the corner and bumped straight a whole load of ancient detectives. There was one bloke in a wheelchair but frankly they all looked like they had mobility issues they were so old: Morse, Wexford, Rockford and Jessica Fletcher I recognised but there were loads of others and they all pounced on me, pontificating how I did it and how stupid they were not to have realised it after the first murder but congratulating themselves that now, after five murders and a jolly exciting plot, they had been brilliant enough to work out that the serial killer was in fact a big purple bunny hoping to work in children’s television.
Murder?
This was weekday afternoon telly with lots of children watching. I pleaded that I’d been asleep with Grandad all afternoon and couldn’t have done any murdering. But then they pointed to my footprints. No I hadn’t trodden in any dog poo. It was blood! Blood! My paws were dripping in blood! Kids’ characters don’t have paws dripping in blood! They told me I was like Lady Macbeth and someone (I expect it was Inspector Dalgliesh because he’s literary) shouted “Out damned spot” which was really unfair because Spot the Dog is a sweet little kids’ character and he certainly didn’t need to be shouted at as he hadn’t pooed in the corridor and besides he wasn’t here anyway.
And that gave me the leverage I needed and I turned the tables on these so-called afternoon detectives: where was Spot eh?
And that gave me the leverage I needed and I turned the tables on these so-called afternoon detectives: where was Spot eh?
Where were all the other kids’ characters for that matter?
What had these fiendish private and public dicks done with them? Hmm? They didn’t like my questions, I could tell: Morse took out his Crossword and Jessica Fletcher tried to fob me off with a bit of the Bobbing Along song. It’s a catchy tune; Grandad and I always like singing along and I couldn’t help joining in so I didn’t notice some bloke in a Hawaiian shirt who suddenly cuffed me and said “Book ‘em Danno.”
I started to cry but they weren’t interested. They just wanted to show everyone how clever they were by solving the mystery. They realised of course that big purple bunnies are not the murderous type but they didn’t want me spoiling things so they left me alone with all these dead bodies while they went off to round up all the usual suspects for the big reveal scene. It was horrible.
Before they left though, they couldn’t resist having the final word. “You want to know what your crime was, kid?” I was too distraught to speak and simply nodded.
I started to cry but they weren’t interested. They just wanted to show everyone how clever they were by solving the mystery. They realised of course that big purple bunnies are not the murderous type but they didn’t want me spoiling things so they left me alone with all these dead bodies while they went off to round up all the usual suspects for the big reveal scene. It was horrible.
Before they left though, they couldn’t resist having the final word. “You want to know what your crime was, kid?” I was too distraught to speak and simply nodded.
“Being in the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time,”
they said
But this was three-thirty in the afternoon: how could that be the wrong time for a kids’ telly character? They wouldn’t listen though. They just said that kids weren’t wanted here any more and I should shove off.
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