Category Archives: Village Life

Bangers and Mash

Good hello

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, here is a picture from last years well turned ankle competition.

A policeman judges an ankle competition


Greasy Nipple

Good hello to you all.

It has come to my attention that certain villagers are possibly harbouring lusty thoughts over Mary Berry.

Stop it and stop it now!

Broken Hymen

Here is an update from last nights meeting of the emergency committee.

Due to the recent outbreak of Ebola, Firbeck is closing its borders to stop the disease running amok in the village.

It was decided that as many ocelots as possible will patrol the perimeter fence which is being erected today and there will only be one entry point in and out of the village. This will be manned by the council residents who are less likely to have a decent bloodline and can be extinguished with very little loss to the community.

Anyone who leaves the village and travels within 2 miles of Dinnington or Maltby will no longer be allowed to return, this is obviously to keep Firbeck ebola free.

Supplies will be dropped from a chinook every Wednesday so make sure you put your wine and spirits order in before noon on Tuedsays.

Mucky Knickers

Good hello

The Parish council have realised that more crimes are being committed than technically possible. This is partly due to the fact that 31% of crimes were fabricated by RMBC to keep citizens in a constant state of anxiety. To maintain its own credibility, RMBC banned the use of contraceptives for 3 months per year in the hope that the population would rise and thus generate the citizens required to meet the implausible high crime figures.

The scheme backfired when the new population proved to comprise largely blameless, model citizens. However, RMBC was not convinced of their apparent virtue and created a special, combined investigation & prosecution squad. It invested birds, insects and other animals with the full power of a law court and trained them to spy on citizens, assuming that guilt would inevitably be detected.

In addition to pigeons, there were crack teams of sparrows, cats, butterflies, stoats and tuna, but there were also ‘lone wolf’ operatives, the most infamous of which was a ladybird who everyone knew as Two-Spots Bailey, though his real identity remains a mystery to this day.

Ham Fisted

Magnificently so to you all.

The Parish council is a staunch advocate of biblioclasm. It doesn’t want citizens of Dinnington and Maltby acquiring unsanctioned knowledge and expects families to regularly scour their cellars, attics and priest holes for prohibited books. Book burnings take place after Sunday Coven on every 3rd Sunday, unless it falls on a Saturday, in which case the following Sunday.

However, after the inexplicable disappearance of many of Firbeck’s old age pensioners (which, incidentally, coincides with a much-needed boost to the village’s flagging sausage industry), the time-honoured method of how to correctly burn a book fell out of common knowledge. No one could remember how to do it because the traditional know-how had not been passed on to them.

The council had no choice but to publish ‘How to Burn Books’, which will furnish Dinnington and Maltby folk with the required skills for correct book burning.

Unfortunately, the book- and education-starved populace of Dinnington and Maltby could not read and attempted, albeit clumsily, to burn all the copies before they had looked at them properly.

Frustrated, the council had no choice but reteach people how to read, or at least well enough for them to be able to read and comprehend the 2nd edition of ‘How to Burn Books’.

Both editions, including the rare 1st edition, can be seen below.

biblioclasm01 biblioclasm02


Puckered Hole

Hugely so to you all.

Junior Will & Testament‘ (see newspaper advertisement below) was produced by Firbeck Legal Games & Documents Ltd. While it familiarised children with the inevitability of their demises in a fun way, it also introduced them to their civic obligations. For example, many children were not aware that, like adults, they were subject to death duty.

Any child who owned more than 20 toys at the time of its passing was expected to part with 26.5% of them; 50% for more than 40 toys. After several years of the ‘grave game tax’, as it become known colloquially, the council noticed that many of the toys it was receiving in payment were clearly not the children’s favourite toys.

From then on the Parish council would audit children every year to make sure that they weren’t hiding away their most treasured toys. Particularly untrustworthy were very poorly children. Upon admission into a hospital, the council would confiscate children’s possessions until their passing – the council couldn’t take the risk that a frightened child may be tempted to withhold a favoured toy during its time of need.

Earlier this year, the millions of collected toys were melted down and made into an enormous, inflatable bouncy castle for the Parish Council to play in on their many days off work.


Wet Tissue

Welcome all and a good hello.

The emergency meeting held last night was a resounding success, a new park for the ankle biters of the village is finally underway.

The proposed apparatus for the park are below, a meeting will be held next week to pick the most appropriate for the village.

Juba Juba

Regarding Firbeck Canard I am singularly unable to find any publication in which criticism is levelled at the poor, the lower orders, racial and religious groupings, or foreigners.

Of course this is not The Canard’s raison d’etre (let me make that clear), but where can one go for such entertainments?

I have given up on the Labour Party or the Lib Dems for the provisions of aforesaid, and find that even the Tories do not offer this diversion. Are we not all the poorer for it?

Cnl. Sebastapol Rattling-Sabres

Spaniel Dirt

Welcome to you all hello.

Whilst visiting the seed bank this afternoon I was shocked at the Tardisesque proportions of the phone box, after 20 minutes of wandering the corridors I happened to meet Jocelyn, the daughter of Aunty Anita, who knew Firbeck had it’s own telephone exchange.


The mind boggles.