Extract from the personal diary of Dr Marian Startop

Saturday 15th June

Got roped into helping that old fool Dr Brumby with that ridiculous cheese cavern survey of his.  Jesus!  What was I thinking?  For a start, it took us most of the morning to even find the place.  He had no idea how to read a map, so it was lunchtime by the time we finally got there.  Of course, he hadn't thought to bring anything to eat with him, so he just helped himself to my sandwiches.   The cheeky sod!  Mind you, after watching him drooling all over my salmon and cucumber baps, I really didn't feel hungry anymore and was happy to let him polish off the lot.

After that he wandered off to find somewhere selling ice creams, leaving me to lug all of his bloody surveying equipment out of the car.   When he finally returned he seemed to take great delight in presenting me with a half empty packet of condoms that he'd found, and from the leer on his face he seemed to think that I would find this gift vaguely erotic.  I made it clear that I was not in the least bit interested - or at least, I think I made it clear - but this didn't stop him making a sudden lunge towards me.  It was only after I set about him with a sharpened stick that he finally got the picture.

At least his quest for ice cream had proved more successful than his pitiful attempt at seduction.  He hadn't thought to buy me one, of course, but it was clear from the sticky residue down the front of his jacket that he'd had one himself.  Unfortunately for Dr Brumby, I wasn't the only one who noticed, and moments later a flock of sweet toothed pigeons descended on him and started pecking away at his coat.  God, it was hysterical!  Even if I live to be a hundred, I don't think I will ever witness anything as side-splittingly comical as that lecherous old goat flailing around wildly with half the bird population of Yorkshire affixed to his best suit.

Well, he went into a sulk after that - which I was quite happy about, since it meant we were able to get some work done.  However, when it was finally time to pack up and leave, he suddenly announced that he had lost his car keys.  At first I thought he was just trying it on, but when I threatened him with the sharpened stick again he insisted that he was quite genuine.  Three hours it finally took before we found them!  Three hours spent wandering about miserably in the cold and the dark.  At first he blamed me for losing them.  Then he claimed the birds had taken them.  Then we met a man out walking his dog, who - for some unaccountable reason - Dr Brumby kept calling 'Geoff', although the man repeatedly insisted that his name was Clive.  When Dr Brumby accused this man of stealing his car keys, Geoff, or Clive, or whatever his name was, began to get quite irritated.   Dr Brumby, however, refused to let the allegation drop, and threatened to call the police.  It took a great deal of shouting, a rapid exchange of threats, and a fairly decisive smack in the mouth before Brumby was finally persuaded that the stranger did not have his keys.

It was as I was helping him to his feet that Dr Brumby discovered he had had the keys in his pocket all the time.  It was at this point that he received another smack in the mouth.

It was almost ten o'clock by the time I got home this evening. I was cold, wet, hungry and thoroughly wretched.  This must have been one of the most detestable experiences I have ever had to endure.  Dr Brumby has talked about going back next weekend to continue where he left off.  If he asks me to accompany him, I'll tell him he can shove it up his fundament.

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