Christopher England: Am I hearing right that “Caroline Mattress” (the friendly nickname for a bunch of guys playing records and using the call-sign “Radio Caroline” on the internet) has now been thrown out of the bedroom it was using? It now has no studio facilities and can only broadcast pre-recorded stuff apparently.
The Caroline Godfather: Oh my god, Christopher England’s got us sussed and my plans are in danger of being revealed to the enemies of my Caroline.
Christopher England: We will never be told as everybody associated with Caroline Mattress has been given written instructions to not mention the move to the new bedroom in public.
The Caroline Godfather: Curse this evil swine, how has he found this out? I must have a traitor in my organisation! I will hunt the traitor down, and I will kill him, or worse. Yes, I will give him the fate worse than death. He will be banned from working on my Caroline.
Christopher England: According to the instructions, anybody daring to say anything in public will instantly lose their programme and will be blamed for everything from global warming to the credit crunch as part of a campaign of public vilification which will last for at least 5 years.
The Caroline Godfather: A million double curses! Bloody England is reading my bloody mind. He’s got my house bugged, I know it. He’s out there watching me. I’ll show the swine. I’ll expose him. He’s mine, I tell ye, he’s mine.
Christopher England: Anybody know which Caroline presenter’s bedroom is now being used? Well, will eventually be used when they’ve worked out how to wire up the studio. Or, is that to be top secret as well?
The Caroline Godfather: No, please no. Quick. Must deflect. Can’t have the drones asking questions or thinking for themselves. Must deflect. Get them thinking about something other than Caroline Mattress. Damnit, now he’s got me so worked up I’m calling it Caroline Mattress. Quick. No time to lose. Got to stop them thinking about what he’s said. They must not think about matters Caroline. I know, I’ve got it. I’m ready for my best deflection ever. Where’s the microphone? Quick. Here we go, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Christopher England has been known to me for over 100 years, and I can tell you he has a very stinky bum. And, er, yes, and he eats babies. And, er, he’s a murderer, and not even a real man. He once tried to eat my dog.” Phew! Done it. Now the drones are far too busy thinking and talking about Christopher England to think about the information he gave them. Thank the Lord anoraks are so stupid and easy to manipulate.
England's England 