Every now and then, Adrian Spruce-Veneer, the antique dealer, drops into the office for a word with Ed.
Last week he conned our chubby chief into printing a piece about a big event at the Town Hall.
‘Chinless-Sneer as I call him, had been asked to join the panel of judges and, since it included Sir Horace Galloper and Colonel Stark-Staring, the old snob had jumped at the chance and insisted that Ed sent along a photographer.
‘It’s a bit awkward,’ Ed told me later, when his visitor had gone.
‘I’m not going to be here tomorrow when the next edition’s finished-off, so I’ll have to write a caption for the photo without seeing it.
Tell Arry to make sure he takes one of Adrian arriving at the Town Hall tonight and I’ll leave you the words to go underneath.’
Well, I passed on the message and the following morning Arry brought in the picture as arranged. Coo! You should have seen it! Apparently, Adrian Spruce-Veneer’s rolls had a puncture on the way to town and, cos he was miles from anywhere, he had to change the wheel himself.
He got grease all over his hands and face, tore the sleeve of his jacket and accidentally wiped the jack on his shirt.
It was pouring with rain as well, so no wonder he wasn’t too pleased when the picture appeared in the paper with Ed’s caption below it.
‘Antiques expert, Adrian Spruce-Veneer, arrives to judge last week’s “Best Dressed Man” competition in the Town Hall!
See you soon