“Dennis Brent” called Wicks.

“Over here, Wicks” I replied. He and Grantham rushed towards the ensuing brawl and pulled Tom Baker off me. Fortunately he had only pummelled my face and my wallet was unharmed.

“He’s a turd on the face of humanity” shouted Tom Baker. I thought that was a rather rude thing to say about Grantham but I let it pass. “You are a weasel in the lap of mankind” he added (presumably about Wicks).

“There appears to have been a misunderstanding” I explained and told him all about my exclusive interview with Pip and Jane Baker.

“I don’t care about any of that, you boil on the rectum of civilisation” he boomed, “No one abuses Thomas Marvin Baker and gets away with it.” He whistled and a large dog bounded out from a nearby kennel. “Tom Baker the Fourth – kill” and the dog aimed itself at us.

“This time I really think it could be the end” I announced, patting my wallet and thanking my lucky stars that I had remembered to add a sticker to my organ donor card banning any h-o-m-o-s-e-x-u-a-l from benefiting after my demise.

At that very moment, Ian Devine appeared with two big slices of bread. He caught the leaping dog between them and let Tom Baker know that he’d eaten bigger sandwiches than this before.

“Call off your attack or I eat the hound” he threatened.

“Tom Baker the Fourth, heel boy” bellowed Mr Baker. Ian Devine opened his sandwich and let the dog return to its master. “Now, you faeces in the salad of life, sod the hell off my drive.” He went in doors and we were free to depart.

“Well done, Ian Devine” I said, patting him on a blubbery shoulder.

“My pleasure Dennis Brent – I’m sure you’ll remember me saving your life again when Mr Wetfinger’s annual Bendaton Pie Fest comes round in three months, two weeks, four days and six hours time.”

“We will indeed, Ian Devine.”

“So I take it this means you won’t be getting your exclusive interview with Pip and Jane Baker then” scoffed Grantham.

“Piffle, Grantham” I told him. “I am this very minute about to go to Pip and Jane Baker’s house and interview Pip and Jane Baker for my Pip and Jane Baker exclusive issue of ‘Pip and Jane Baker Present Mucky Devastation’. Nothing in the world will stop me now.”

I dashed over to Miss Bobbins’ custard coloured car and gave her detailed instructions as to how to get to Pip and Jane Baker’s house.

“Woooooo – secondy timey luckyey” she cooed.

“A sensible observation” I observed. She poked the pedals with her feet and gave the impression that she had no control over any of them.

“I think Dennis Brent should drive” I told her. “Platform boots – much in the manner of Josephine Grant during three seasons in “Doctor Who” - are not made for driving in.” With this sensible point being made, she got out and let me drive. I put the car in reverse and set us on our way to Pip and Jane Baker’s home. The first three feet of our journey passed very sensibly. The next foot was rather bumpy and then we stopped again.

“I think you’ve run over something” said Miss Bobbins. We rushed out of the custard coloured car to see if she was indeed correct. The bump hadn’t been big enough for it to have been Ian Devine or Wicks but Grantham was rather sleight and could well have fallen. I was relieved that it was only a cat.

“Poor pussy” cried Miss Bobbins.

“It’s only a cat” I told her sensibly.

“It’s got a collar on it – it says ‘Tom Baker the Seventh’.”

“Oh dear” I grimaced.

“You urine stain on the pant of civilisation” bellowed Tom Baker. “What the Waterhouse have you done now?”

“Miss Bobbins appears to have run over your cat” I said quickly.

“You spunk stain on the carpet of destiny” he spat, ignoring her and aiming his mistaken venom at me.

“My friends here will vouch for the fact that I wasn’t even in the car” I said desperately, winking at Wicks, Grantham and Ian Devine.

“It’s true, Tom Baker” agreed Ian Devine.

“Dennis Brent was no where near your cat, Tom Baker” added Wicks.

“Dennis Brent is entirely innocent” agreed Grantham.

Miss Bobbins looked at me with an expression not unlike the late Tom Baker the Seventh.

“Balls” snapped Tom, “I caught the whole Waterhousing mess on my video camera system. I record everything for possible future documentary use. You were driving, Brent, and now I really will beat you to a jelly, you flatulent gust in the church of existence.”

“If you want me you will have to go through my friends first” I warned.

“Ah” said Wicks.

“We’ve got to go now” added Grantham.

“It’s quarter to pie” explained Ian Devine. They piled into Wicks’ Skoda Elite and raced off. Miss Bobbins, apparently feeling I had let her down at some point, got into her custard coloured car and followed Wicks, Grantham and Ian Devine to wherever pies are sold. I was left alone with a furious Tom Baker.

“I don’t suppose I could interview you instead – I could ask the typesetter to replace the ‘Pip and Jane’ with ‘Tom’ and we could devote the issue to you.”

“You tampon on the dinner plate of society”.

As Tom Baker approached me, fists bulging, I could feel the camera moving into an extreme close up of my face.

“This time I really think it could be the end…”