Return of the Christmas competition.

[Tarquin Thunderthighs lll]

He's the funniest cowboy ever invented.
But nobody knows to where he has wented.

They say he has letters from Kitty all scented
He now reads them at night till his sheets get all tented.

Me and Tarks wins !!

[Mince]

Well, okay, I'll extend the deadline until Monday lunchtime and announce the winner that evening.

Does Roger understand the word 'evening'? Come to that, does he understand the word 'Monday'?

[Tarquin Thunderthighs lll]

Patience, man! Scottish evenings have been known to go until morning...several days later.

[Mince]

I'm just saying he's taking his time getting round to announcing me the winner.

[Roger Kettle]

It's coming...

[Mince]

Just type: "The genius and amazing Mince is the clear winner by lightyears."

[Redundant]

Just type: "The genius and amazing Mince is the clear winner by lightyears."

Lightyears?   Seriously?   You couldn't let me down gently with lightweeks or even lightdays?

[Roger Kettle]

Mince won the prize with a truly brilliant poem----and then I had to take it away from him because he followed it up with a 21-line explanation of why his poem was truly brilliant.
Sandy came VERY close. Anyone who rhymes "sensual" with "pencil" clearly has a gift.
But this year's winner is Redundant with some magnificent poetry which included the poignant image of Horace dying with Kitty's boots on.
Red, I may have your full name and postal details somewhere but send me a PM with them and I'll get your prize off later this week.
Right, that's it. No objections, no recounts, no appeals.
I have spoke.

[Mince]

That's so unfair! Of course I had to explain it to you. It's not my fault you're stupid. Why penalise me for that?

[Roger Kettle]

No, it's not your fault I'm stupid and I'm not penalising you for that.
I'm penalising you for pointing it out.

[Mince]

You must spend most of your days penalising people. Besides, poetry is meant to be about the truth.

Also, I notice that there was no praise whatsoever for your rubbish entry.

I assume Redundant is going to get the whole £50,000.

[Redundant]

I'm filling up...you're sending cash in the post?

[Mince]

Okay, I'll judge it. I've decided that the prize will be £50,000.

He'll probably post it to your neighbour.

[Roger Kettle]

Minus, of course, £49,999.00 for postage.

[Redundant]

He'll probably post it to your neighbour.

My neighbour won a prize too?   This must be the most artistic road in the Isle of Man, ever.   I feel a poem coming on...no, it's just wind.