Dog show at Nantmel:- The hairless Hitch and the walnut witch

International death-camp empressario and prune-faced-walnut-witch, 'Our Mam' Teresa-nun of Abercalcutta, claims to have proof-facial that dinosaurs had scrotums. Hairless alcopopinjay ad-lib-rehearsing name-dropper and bridge-ox cancer-bookworm, Christopher Hitchjones counter-claims (just to be awkward) that his friend Richard Dawkins says the striking similarity is merely an example of convergent evolution. What better way to settle the question that has confounded my finest minds since the dawn of eating those mushrooms, than to let the two conflicting ideas compete, in canine form, at the Nantmel dog show 2010 annual festive and gala picnic outing-day. event.

REJ:- Now, Hitchjones, you are going to be a Saint Brandy-Bernard, and Teresa-nun, you are going to be a Shar-Pei from 'ble mae bobl melyn yn byw' - as the song goes. From when songs were allowed to be racist. Although they're still yellow even if you don't say it... -

HH:- Richard!...,ladies,...gentlemen,...comrades....brothers, sisters...-

REJ:- What is it Hitchjones? I can't say f-f-f...I can't make it clearer than that! Diawl yffern! -

HH:- Richard, am I to understand that you intend to actually transfiguremorphify us into dogs, rather than have us metaphorically represented by canineular quadruwolfs? -

REJ:- Shut up and eat this dog-wafer. You too Teresa-nun, and chins-up please, Meinir Philips will be judging -

TN:- Loneliness is the most terrible poverty -

REJ:- Yes, yes - we've all hugged Diana...*strokes necks*....Swallow! - good boy!...good girl!...that's it!...dyna ni!...Nawrte boysss! - although you're now dogs, minus-millionaire almost-has-been inventuallist dream-weaver Phil the Rimmer has stolen from the office stationery cupboard these two Rosettatechno-dog-collars, what will translate that which what you are woofing. Otherwise it might be silly. Nawrte...gadewch i ni see if it works...

*hoof!*

HH:- I am an American Jew. woof.

*hoof*

TN:- My mission was to increase suffering. woof.

REJ:- hmmm....02748673921....Rimmer!...RIMMER!...are you sure...yes - the LEDs are pretty....yes - fresh batteries from Sioned....no - I haven't got 4 million...you spent the last 4 million on....yes - you remember now don't you?...yes...that's it...- and did the clockwork goat-ticklers...yes...the market...yes...more LEDs....yes that does sound a bit harsh....probably jealousy....I know....well he's probably a bit nervous after that loan you got from Northern Rock....yes....not your fault....not all your fault...look! Rimmer! I've got to go as Hitchjones dog is pestering the beagles for a fag....yes...you too....they kick in after about 3 weeks I'm told....no...no, not a good idea....no, you keep taking them....he's not a ghostnazi...no, he's a very nice doctor...poisoning your water?....no, that isn't nice but....*Clunk!* I'll buy another one -

HH:- Exquisite!...like Albanian raisins! - yet...peppery...the high notes play an olfactory contralto to the -

REJ:- Good, good, I see you're getting to know each other...Hitchjones dog! don't do that Joyce Grenfell -

HH:- Bet you wish you could - woof.

REJ:- No thankyou diolch...perhaps my own, but not yours. Nawrte! Mae'r sioe yn beginning! -

*chhhhhhhhhh!....testing...testing...un dau un dau....is it on? - Bore da! a chroeso i'r Nantmel dog show 2010 annual festive and gala picnic outing-day! event! Rydyn ni'n very pleased to have with us Mayor Donefuckall....blablablabla.....the first event is! - the egg and spoon race! Please take your positions - *

TN:- Shitbags! wtf?! egg and spoon race?!! ffs! that's all my training fucked! - woof.

HH:- I am Jefferson's biographer...in a small way...I think it was Mr Clemens who said of boasting - woof.

REJ:- You'll miss the start! You'll miss the start! Get these doggles on Hitchjones dog...and Teresa-nun dog - don't do that Joyce Grenfell. Not that I was looking...

*Chhhhhhhhh! first prize for the egg and spoon race is this lovely tea-towel donated by...-*

TN:- Fuck! I'd look sexy in that!...I sense a 'miracle' coming on...woof.

*Chhhhhhhh!...Tri...dau...un....mynd!*

HH:- That should be 'ewch' surely...plural imperative....*trip!*...ooof!...bitch!...woof.

*And the winner is...Teresa-nun dog! Da iawn Teresa-nun dog!....Hitchjones dog - you are the loser!*

HH:- Yet I burned a beautiful light...woof.

*Next event is called 'stun the mule'. As the name suggests - competidogs must attempt to drink enough to stun a mule and there will be a special bonus prize for forgetting Trotsky. The prize - donated by Messrs Dubya shrub and Rictus grinblair is this delightful dead democratic Iraqi freed person-corpse....*

HH:- Strap me down and waterboard me! - woof.

TN:- You war-mongrel! You apologist for the invasion! - woof.

HH:- I'm not sure I could put it better myself...*pause*.....*glint-in-eye*....but you certainly couldn't. - woof.

*And the winner is...etc*

*Y gem nesaf is called 'hide the anaesthetic'. Competicurs must walk up and down the line of wailing pitiful agonised tortured dying peoples - donated by a Mr A. pathy - without cracking and giving them pain-relief. Because suffering brings them closer to God. And ban relatives visiting...and...oh that's enough to earn the prize - which is this 'I am super' badge...from the Pope...*

TN:- Oooh! I'd gladly kill thousands in as agonising a way as possible to win an 'I am super' badge from the Pope! - woof.

*and the winner...*

- Hang on...what's the score...ok....1 more to Hitch and then we're set up for a sudden-death decider...to see if dinosaurs had scrotums -

*The jeu prochain est called 'Quote someone cleverer than yourself'...*


REJ:- Well, Well boys bach! didn't they do well? etc. So it's the sudden-death decider! Paws on buzzers please! - Oh! Good God Iesu Mawr no!...stop that!...you two stop that now!....somebody get a bucket of water!....Oh I can barely watch!....bad doggies!... etc etc. Fin.