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Lost the Plot - Episode 4 - The Rear End


By Monkey1 & Crouch n'Hold
July 18 2006

The rear end of the pile of junk that had once been flight MTL815 span out of control through the clouds. There was panic & screaming. Rob was crying out, this was not his destiny, this was never in his 5 year plan.

He then calmed down as he found someone to blame for his plan having gone wrong. This was Touchline’s fault. He had booked this flight, his arch enemy, his nemesis. Rob wasn’t sure why he was going to Paris for the weekend anyway, he didn’t even like France, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t settle all weekend.

 

Spud was screaming “My hair, my hair”. Nobody was really sure what was supposed to be wrong with his hair, maybe the wind howling around the plane was making it unusually tidy. Parling joined him in terror of having unfashionably tidy hair.

 

Micky was desperately trying to hold on to his pie in one hand & pint in the other.

 

Jonny had his guitar in his teeth & had braced himself against a row of seats to stop his piano from falling out of the plane.

 

Perry was still in his seat singing Delilah. His military training had taught him to stay calm in all situations. Well actually his military training had taught him to get so drunk that he was still blissfully unaware that anything was amiss.

 

One thing was for sure, the Falcons were in dire trouble. Only a miracle could save them now.

 

Fortunately they had a miracle on board, and that miracle was called Burke. This would not be the first time he had stopped the Falcons from going down.

 

“Strewth, here we go agin” he thought to himself. “Allroyt fillas” he shouted “Listen to yer uncle Mitt un we’ll be foyne”.

 

From the very back of the plane he cajoled & marshalled the Falcons into some sort of shape. With a few soft words and a few tears he persuaded Jonny to let the piano go. He moved the players until the weight was evenly distributed around the remains of the plane. A heavy weight was needed at the front where the rest of the plane had once been so Micky was sat in the centre aisle with a widescreen surround sound view as the plane stopped spinning & glided gently out of the clouds.

 

“Way that’s a crackin garden doon there”. Commented Micky.

 

“Strewth, jus loike home”. Commented Burke.

 

The back end of the plane was gliding majestically down towards the beautiful sandy beach of a tropical island.

 

Micky pointed to a distant speck above the centre of the island & made some Geordie noises that nobody could understand. Tino who was sat in the front row with the rest of the heavies followed his gaze & thought it was a giant butterfly. “Bella farfalle”. He exclaimed, a tear springing from his eye in Italian emotional fashion.

 

Thumper Junior sitting next to him had excellent vision with his contact lenses in, such a pity he never wears them when playing. “That’s Betty & the pilot”. He said “I wonder where the front of the plane is?”

 

“So much hot air comes out of that load of supporters they could keep their bit of the plane floating up there for weeks”. Muttered Andy Long.

 

All attention now shifted to the approaching land. Burkey expertly shuffled the players left & right, the hand of God it seemed was guiding them. The rear end of the plane responded perfectly to his expert touch and it steered a steady & true course for the beach. At the last moment he ordered everyone to move to the back. The front end lifted and the tail of the plane made an expertly executed landing in the shallows.

 

Burkey threw open the rear door & pulled the lever for the escape slide. Amazingly for such a heap of junk it still worked. Obviously used many times before on other crash landings it was patched together like a collection of old lilos but it inflated into a useful escape slide.

 

 

Rob took charge of the team selection as to who would go first down the slide. After a few minutes had passed & still no functional plan had been put forward Burkey shoved Rob down the slide & ordered that all the smallest should go first & the heaviest last. Anna took off her beloved stilettos & was immediately transformed from a short arse to a very short arse.

 

Grindal was next out followed by the other half backs. Jonny clutched his guitar close to him. He had left guitars all over the world and was not going to lose this one. He had already had to let his piano go, he wondered if he would ever see it again. Then all the girlie backs followed, the back rowers, the gangly locks & finally the hookers & props.

 

Last of all was Micky, the pie eating pint swilling pride of the North East. If he had simply sat upon the top of the slide & allowed gravity to do the rest all would have been fine. Instead he dived onto the slide in an enormous belly flop shouting “WAHAAAY”. Which is Geordie for “WAHAAAY”.

 

This was too much for the tired old slide which burst with an explosion of flatulence sending Micky flying through the air with a sound like an express train farting. He landed at the top of the beach as bits of floppy wet plastic rained down & they realised that the slide had indeed been a collection of old lilos held together with gaffer tape.

 

“Werrawus?” asked Micky.

 

“Where on earth is this place?” asked Jamie in something much more akin to the English language.

 

“Wull yow tell me quoite frankly”. Answered Charvis

 

“Strewth mate it’s Bondi”. Exclaimed Burkey as he found a suitable piece of driftwood & set off to go surfing. He stripped off his trackie bottoms to reveal a pair of board shorts so loud they couldn’t have been purchased in the northern hemisphere.

 

Spud whipped his trackie bottoms off to reveal an identical pair of shorts, found a piece of driftwood & followed his mentor down to the surf.

 

Jonny having been deprived of any training for hours teamed up with Sparks for a bit of kicking practise. They found a few rotted out coconuts which were light enough & Jonny started hoofing them down the beach. They quickly made some posts out of bamboo.

 

 

While all the others busied themselves getting ready for whatever lay ahead, Rob wandered along the shore kicking stones off the sand into the water. He fished into his ear for a piece of wax & thought again about his arch enemy, Touchline.

 

Even his beloved car park wasn’t safe. The blasted Touchline had nearly succeeded in getting the pot holes filled in. That was spite to do that, pure spite. Rob’s eyes rolled around in their sockets at the very thought of Touchline. One of the few pleasures he had left at Kingston Park was to kick stones around the car park. 2 points for a hit into a large pot hole, 3 points for a direct hit into a really small one. During an important meeting on whether they should still try to remain in the premiership he had wandered out & scored his all time record of 396.

 

The sun was getting lower in the sky, about an hour & a half till sunset. Having no plan for the next 90 minutes may be nothing new for the Falcons but hunger was starting to make the players restless.

 

Burkey was back from his surfing & went into bushtucker mode. He quickly got a fire going by rubbing sticks together & set about building a Barbie.

 

Spud always keen to learn off the master was fascinated. “Did you learn to do that in the outback?” he asked.

 

Burkey sewing some corks onto a hat looked up & replied “Nah, watching Ray Mears on the telly”.

 

Walton organised his forwards into groups to go & find food, except for his 2 precious hookers who were not much good at finding things anyway. The backs he rested to do the cooking later, as usual they would get all the glory for serving up what the forwards had given them.

 

The 4 groups set off into the jungle, ordered to bring back anything edible.

 

The locks all stuck together. Being tall they could reach the highest fruit & did well to collect a load of mangoes & coconuts in a short time. They hadn’t gone very far into the jungle before they felt the presence of someone watching them. There were other people on the island, definitely not the supporters from the front of the plane, these were strangers. They were too distant to make out clearly, Grimes headed off towards them for a closer look.

 

Suddenly they were rushed by a large wild cat, it looked like a tiger but it moved so fast they couldn’t be sure. They ran for cover & hid for a while until all was quiet again.

 

They regrouped – Perry, Parling Oakes & Tomes, but no sign of Grimes. They searched around for a while then decided that the brave Scot must have returned to the beach so they collected their mangoes & coconuts & made their way back.

 

There was no sign of Grimes at the beach. They took their food over to the Barbie then went to report to Walton.

 

“We’ve lost Grimsey”. Perry told Walton. “We were ambushed by some Tigers…”

 

“I thought they were cheetahs”. Chipped in Oakes

 

“Tigers, cheaters, same thing lad, you will learn”. Explained Parling.

 

“Anyway” continued Perry “we all hid & when the Tigers had gone there was no sign of Grimsey, he just disappeared”.

 

Parling coughed & his hair shook “I don’t think he was eaten by tigers or anything like that” he said “he went to get a closer look at the others”.

 

“Others?” asked Walton.

 

Stuart Grimes. Newcastle Falcons 1999 – 2006

 

The back row team being used to chasing things that shot out from between their feet were expected to catch some small animals or birds in the undergrowth. They headed for some open jungle where they stood more chance of catching something edible. They did well to find some small chicken like birds, collecting them & their eggs.

 

They too were aware of other people watching them from a distance. They couldn’t get close enough for a proper look as the other people always backed away into the jungle whenever they got close. Finegan being more used to the climate decided to try & get closer to see who they were & headed off to sneak up on them from the jungle. The rest were told to stay in the open so the other people would watch them & hopefully not notice Finegan moving towards them.

 

Suddenly a black cloud moved out of the jungle towards them. It looked like smoke, changing shape as it moved. As it got closer they could see it was a swarm of some sort of insect, millions of them. It formed into a shape that resembled an elbow, remained like that for some time then disappeared back into the jungle as quickly as it had come.

 

They waited around for Finegan, it was starting to get dark. They noticed that the other people had gone. McCarthy & Harris went off to find Finegan while Woods, Buist & Dowse collected more birds & eggs. When it was obvious that Finegan had gone they decided to get back to the beach before dark.

 

They reported to Rob about the loss of Finegan, told him about the strange black cloud in the shape of an elbow & his eyes swivelled crazily.

 

“Oh and there are some other people on the island but we couldn’t get near them, that’s what Mel… I mean Owen went to investigate”. Said McCarthy.

 

“Others?” asked Rob.

 

Owen Finegan. Newcastle Falcons 2005 - 2006

 

The props being used to grubbing about in the mud were sent to find edible roots & plants.

 

“Wull get sum tatties n mek a canny chippy n’all like sooth shields man”. Said Micky.

 

“Er yes, quite, er for the time of year”. Replied Morris.

 

They headed off crashing through the jungle like a herd of elephants & soon found some roots that looked wholesome.  As they grovelled about in the mud in proper prop fashion they were amazed to see an enormous cow slowly wander past.

 

“Steady lads, don’t startle it”. Said Morris.

 

“If we could milk that bugger we could make everyone milk shakes & have butter for a month”. Added Wilson.

 

The cow slowly wandered off into the jungle & disappeared.

 

They carried on with their grubbing about for a while then noticed something wasn’t right. It took them a while as props are not the brightest tools in the box but eventually they realised that their merry group of four was now a merry group of three.

 

“Where’s Tino?” asked Wilson.

 

“Ah divvenaa”. Replied Micky.

 

“Not seen him since that cow was here”. Added Morris.

 

They had a good look round but there was no sign of the jovial Italian & they decided to head back to the beach in case he had already gone back.

 

There was no sign of him there so they went to explain to Blackie.

 

Blackie & Micky struck up a conversation in rapid Geordie that the rest had no hope of following:

 

“… an then this coo come n like well e wuz ear then but missun like after ye naa n way must’ve ad summat te dee wi the coo like wi huge bags”.

 

“Udders?” said Blackie.

 

Tino Paoletti. Newcastle Falcons 2005 – 2006

 

 

Charvis being the most experienced of the forwards took some of the newer players under his wing. They were told to see if they could find some fish or other seafood. Fishing from the beach was clearly not an option so they walked along the shore towards a rocky headland in the distance.

 

There they found some large rock pools & found plenty of prawns & even a few crabs & lobsters, just right for a beach barbecue. Just as they were about to leave a few enchanting furry creatures came down from the jungle to splash about in the pools. The players watched, fascinated as they seemed to dance in the water, swiftly turning to chase & catch small fish, they were a delight to watch.

 

They were gone as quickly as they had arrived. Then the youngsters noticed that Charvis was no longer there. There was no sign of where he might have gone. They searched all around the rocks & there were no footprints in the sand beyond. It was a complete mystery. Unless he swam out to sea he couldn’t have left the rocks without there being footprints.

 

Brent, Golding & Williams suddenly felt lost without the experienced father figure of the Brummie & couldn’t begin to imagine where he had gone. They stuffed the impressive haul of food into items of clothing & made their way back to the rest where the barbecue was burning nicely under the expert guidance of Burkey.

 

They left the shellfish for the girlie backs to deal with & quickly found Walton to tell the news about Charvis.

 

They told him how they were happily collecting crabs & prawns when these small creatures came out of nowhere then Charvis was gone. Being young inexperienced city lads they had no idea what the creatures were so they described them.

 

“Otters?” said Walton.

 

Colin Charvis – Newcastle Falcons 2004 – 2006

 

The girlie backs got busy preparing a feast. Burkey was in charge of the Barbie, on pretty good form but would have been better with a few tinnies. Soon the beach was filled with the delicious smells of a good feast.

 

They all stayed away from the jungle, afraid that more of them could disappear. The conversation often turned to wondering what had happened to their four team mates. The sun was low in the sky giving a beautiful red twilight glow, soon it would be dark & already a few fires had been lit, a plentiful supply of wood had been gathered by the girlie backs while the forwards were busy trying to obtain some good food.

 

They were seated around sharing the lovely nosh. Jonny started playing his guitar, Blackie & Perry joined in with some singing.

 

Anna wanted some more salad. “Pass the bowl Tom”. She asked, but Tom May thinking she had said “Pass the ball” ignored her & kept it for himself.

 

The party atmosphere was interrupted by a buzzing noise from the jungle like a million angry wasps trapped in a jar. The black cloud appeared that the back rowers had seen earlier. Again it formed into the shape of an elbow, just visible in the last of the daylight.

 

Without warning the cloud changed shape into an enormous snake like object. It dashed across the beach, surrounded Dave Walder & picked him up. The last they saw of him was as he was carried towards the jungle he appeared to make some sort of gesture towards Rob.

 

Everyone was stunned into silence. Eventually Flood spoke:

 

“The wasps have taken Dave”.

 

Dave Walder. Newcastle Falcons. 2000 – 2006

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