2pm

If there is one thing more enjoyable than foreign travel it is planning ones packing. I hadn’t time for my usual colour coded chart (plus my green felt tipped pen had run dry during an ultimately abortive attempt to win an autographed Krynoid in “Doctor Who” Magazine’s under 10s art competition). I instead made do with two principle colours – black and blue-black – with occasional key items underlined in the alternate colour. It was a hodge podge of a system but exceptional circumstances require exceptional measures.

I roughly estimated (and by roughly I mean I did my calculations in pencil) I would need three pairs of underpants per day (Doctor Flapjack has started me on a new a-n-u-s cream which reacts violently with nylon if exposed for too long), one pair of sturdy socks for the duration, one vest, two ties (one sensible one and a lightly humorous one for times when I need my personality to shine through), four handkerchiefs, three tweed suits, one shirt, a bottle of bristle oil, a toothbrush, my moustache comb, a jar of cream which would be of no interest to you I’m sure, a tin of Horlicks, a sliced white loaf and my a-n-u-s kit (travel speculum, gloves, multi-plane adjustable mirror, signed note from Doctor Flapjack explaining that there is nothing s-e-x-u-a-l in my a-n-u-s activities, unguent, precision razor, self lubricating emergency drainer, emergency drainer lubricant and sphincter shaped plasters). With those important but non-crucial items out of the way I was free to assemble the props with which I would illustrate my various lectures. I was working on the assumption than my first lecture would be such a success that the organisers would literally beg me for further talks.

My trunk has been my faithful companion for many years. I took it with me to boarding school, I took it with me when I went off to do my National Service (a rather cruel deception – why could father not simply have told me he wanted my bedroom for storage?), I took it with me when first I went into hospital to have my fascinating (and almost certainly unique) condition assessed by a team of visiting proctologists. I have taken it with me during my global lecture tours. Mostly they have turned out to be h-o-m-o-s-e-x-u-a-l hoaxes but they have allowed me to see many of the world’s finest airports. And, it must be said, quite a lot of me has been seen in the world’s finest airports. Some of the continent’s terminals are so poorly designed that the mandatory cavity searches must be done on the main concourse. They have claimed that this is so the whole thing can be recorded by closed circuit television cameras and thus my human rights are protected. But if they care so much for my human rights they would have used proper equipment rather than the ferule of someone’s umbrella and a maintenance man’s flashlight.

Since I hadn’t yet decided what my inaugural lecture would be about I opted for a fairly broad range of items. I took it for granted that the organisers would have a complete set of video cassettes, telesnaps, sound tracks, novels, novellas, audio plays and my own publications so packed none of those. Aside from a small collection of tomes which I would be able to sell for considerable sums once I had autographed them and the odd book to keep me entertained during the journey. Just flicking through “Dennis Brent’s Convention Calibre Anecdotes vol III” made me roar with laughter at some of the gems contained therein. If you want to know what Maureen O’Brien said when she discovered me auctioning her nightie (ostensibly for charity) then you will have to purchase your own copy.

I was perspiring after a strenuous half hour of stuffing my trunk when Ian Devine popped his head round my bedroom door and suggested we retire to the Elk and Bush for a final drink before departure.

“An excellent idea, Ian Devine” I commended. “Have you telephoned the taximetered-cabriolet company?”

“I have indeed – I instructed Mr Scoffcock to meet us at the public house.”

“Very foresighted of you, Ian Devine. How has your packing been?”

“Rather trying – I simply could not fit everything into my trunk. In the end I hit upon the inspired idea of baking all my essentials inside pie crusts. Thus I have the best of both worlds.”

“Diabolical ingenuity.”

“Thank you, Dennis Brent. I don’t suppose you would consider doing the same, thereby giving me twice the amount of pie crust to snack on?”

“I regret not – I am carrying unguents for my a-n-u-s and there might be contamination.”

“I understand, Dennis Brent. You have your troubles and I have mine. Shall we make our way to the Elk and Bush? If the shove ha’penny table is free I might give you a good spanking.”

“Usual rules?”

“Absolutely – winner keeps the ha’penny.”

“Then lead the way, Ian Devine, as my finger is suddenly eager to do some shoving.”