The Fly By Night Jazz Merchants have hit the road! Our stage costumes are packed, our banjos have been restrung and we're on our tour bus speeding towards our first gig in Doncaster. I say 'tour bus' but that is perhaps not the most accurate description of the vehicle in which we are hurtling towards fame and fortune. Tractor, would be a better word. And 'trundling' might be more precise than 'hurtling'.
In his defence, Itchy MacGyver said that getting hold of a tour bus would be ludicrously expensive. And they were all booked up anyway. And he was a meerkat, and most vehicle hire places refuse to deal with small mammals. Something to do with insurance, apparently. Tractors, he told us, were far cheaper - especially when you steal them.
It's getting us noticed, anyhow, especially as it still has the muck spreader on the back. They certainly won't forget us in the last town we drove through anyway, when Sniffy Pickles leaned forward, uttered those five magic words 'What does this switch do?' and it was suddenly raining manure all the way from the marketplace right the way down to WH Smith's. Blimey, these muck spreaders can really sling it out, can't they? I'm thinking of getting one for my cousin Trevor. I've never liked him.