Twonkey votes YES, our mailbag EXPLODES!

One of many advantages in having Hunchbacks HQ in Southern Britain, is that we have been able to see Kate Bush this last month as often as we got to see Twonkey’s Private Restaurant. We witnessed first hand that moment where she took to the stage for the first time in 35 years. The atmosphere was electric. But that was nothing compared to a few nights later when, between songs, she asked the audience ‘What’s going on with all them wankers up in Scotland?’ Well, the roof damn near came clean off! What, indeed, was going on up there?

Last Friday, on September 18th, Scotland had a wee vote. The Independence Camp, who wished to break up the United Kingdom, were staring defeat right in the jap’s eye. On that morning they had just two cards left to play. They hoped they were trumps. The previously silent Andrew Murray of Surrey, and Paul Winston Vickers of Middlesborough. They both declared themselves as YES men just as the population went to the Polls. Like a pair of twats.

hardefuckenhar

We only heard about Twonkey’s political intervention second hand, via a member of Team Playboys who sadly dressed to the Yes side. We wouldn’t have believed him if it wasn’t for the torrent of emails we came home to at Hunchbacks HQ. Honestly, our mailbag was as bustin’ as Michael Barrymore’s ballsack if he’d been trapped in the Playboy Mansion for a fortnight. The message was clear:  Twonkey’s fanbase was not amused at his political intervention. A selection of the less vicious correspondence is reprinted here just to show what an ungodly error of judgement was made by the previously saint-like Mr Vickers. Will next year’s Twonkey #6 have to be performed behind bullet proof glass? Just like next year’s Wimbledon? Mr. Twonkey’s description of the English as ‘cunts’ on the Gasp! album has come back to haunt him, it seems. Some of the comments we received…

Bing Thompson from Bridgeton writes:

What a cunt. He should be stripped naked, covered in full fat coke until he feels icky all over, then we should get some pliers and a Bowie knife, like that one from Rambo. Not ‘Rambo’ from a few years back, but the first one from the eighties that was also called Rambo. Full title was Rambo: First Blood Part II, but we all called it Rambo. Whereas the recent one was actually just called Rambo. I fucken love ’em both. Anyway, the knife and the pliers…

It continues in this vein for 17 pages…

…and then we’d make him swallow his own. See how he likes it.

At first we thought this was no way to treat the man who had given us Hot Beryl. But at the same time we didn’t make Britain ‘Great’ by not occasionally taking the hardline.

Steven (no surname given), from Edinburgh, writes:

I knew he’d pull something like this. That’s why I changed my professional name, so that I don’t get tarred with his big gay brush. What a cunt.

Fair play, fella. We hear ya. But not everyone thinks Mr. Twonkey’s ‘Yes’ declaration was legit…

Donald Singen Smythe from Falkirk writes:

So Twonkey declared himself as Yes? Hilarious. His funniest gag yet. Clearly not meant to be taken seriously. Think for a minute. This joke has been marinating in his head for a while. Remember he renamed Twonkey’s Creepy Restaurant as Twonkey’s Private Restaurant. That eatery was set in a Scottish future. Which would be a communist dystopia, run by a Tommy Sheridan more dipped in botox and formaldehyde than Joan Rivers. Fuck all would be private. It was a joke. You people need to lighten up. Private Restaurant, haha. A total jape in an Independent Totalitarian Scotland. Funny as the proverbial fuck.

Hmmm, we’re not 100% convinced. Surely even if there is a place for quasi-obscurist japesterism, Scotland isn’t it! And not on fucking Polling Day! Still, as Union Jack loving Twonkey fans, we cling to Donald’s thesis like Kate Winslet to a piece of driftwood in the icy Atlantic.

Lewis Schaffer, London, writes:

I had to leave America suddenly 14 years ago (the charges were bullshit. Bullshit!). I was an orphan and Mother England treated me like a son. In turn, I’ve treated Paul Vickers like a son, and what has he done but pissed all over my metaphorical mother’s face. And as a Jew, that makes my mother Jewish too. Which means Mr. Twonkey is not only anti-British, but an anti-Semite. He’s no better than Hitler.

Geez, when you think about it like that!

Malcolm Mayhew, Mayor of Middlesborough writes:

Turncoat. Don’t ever show your potato face in these parts again. Like, ever.

Terry Williamson fae Airdrie writes:

Andy Murray and Paul Vickers. What a pair of cunts. They should be locked in a room and made to turn on each other. Give ’em a weapon each. Andy with his tennis racquet, Paul with his Flying Tailor prop. Till the death! And then we go in and shoot the winner between the eyes.

Succinct. Watchable. And what the late great George Peppard may have once, in what Mike & The Mechanics referred to as ‘The Living Years’, seen fit to describe as ‘a plan’. Terry, get yersel doon tae Deed Poll and change yur name tae Common Sense.

Derek Bright, address withheld, writes:

What a cunt. We should have expected these lies from him. Do you know he once wrote a brainwashing book called How To Think Like a Programmer?

No, we did not know. But turns out he’s right. It’s sold right there on Amazon! No wonder he kept it quiet.

his guilty secret

And now he’s telling us how to vote! What you gonna tell us how to do next, Paul? How to talk like a newsreader? How to jog like a twat? I’m going to take a piss now. Any tips?

Jesus H. We’ve had a sneaky peak at Mr. Twonkey’s debut – which is his guilty secret – and all we can say is that he must have had some lessons between writing this baloney and the majestic Itchy Grumble. It’s unadulterated shit!

UPDATE: Andrew Murray, of Surrey, has now apologised for his behaviour, saying his endorsement of the Yes vote was ‘out of character’, but stopping short of saying ‘My mummy made me do it’. And the Middlesborough Maestro has come up with the grandmother of all forgiveness tactics… a new album! It has just this very hour popped through our letter box. Talk about bribery! All is forgiven here at Hunchbacks HQ. We only hope Mr. Twonkey’s friends, family, colleagues and Lewis Schaffer of Nunhead, London, will join us in this spirit of togetherness and reconciliation.
 
Coverage of The Greengrocer by Paul Vickers & The Leg is hopefully imminent. We’re off for a listen.
 
Peace and Love,
 
Team: Playboys with Hunchbacks
Great Britain

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