The Weather Apocalypse Bear

The Northern Gentleman, in the course of his mission of mercy, updated us on why the weather reports have become quite as they are. Last year, we were in the paws of Binks, the Met Office Cat. Everyone else, we believe, scarpered for the tropics seeing what was coming, leaving Binks to dispense weather at random. This year, in keeping with general austerity, things are more serious. Binks, and any meterogists unwise enough to return from Bermuda, have been eaten by the Weather Apocalypse Bear, who has siezed control. He is a very large polar bear with black claws and a breezy, somewhat-RAF manner, who broadcasts from a studio in Edinburgh Castle, in front of a weather map from which parts of Scotland are beginning to disappear entirely.
A typical bulletin might run:
“Well the bottom line is that Edinburgh is foutu, one bloody snowdrift, nothing much to be done there and the Forth Bridge is going to need a fifth bridge because it is, as we say, in France, foutu aussi.
And I would like the clown who abandoned a silver Audi A8 at the bottom of Frederick Street to give a ring sharpish to the number you can see on your screen.
So that’s the weather and one closing point, if you were thinking of going to Falkirk, take a tip from me old boy, just don’t.”
We haven’t dared to tune in ourselves (the gutters, plus a three-foot-high ridge of snow, have meanwhile fallen off the roof of my study, which the Weather Apocalypse Bear would doubtless consider due to lack of Moral Fibre on our part) so the Northern Gentleman, who is somewhat more intrepid, will have to relay any further communications.
Health and Safety Considerations have doubtless prevented the Scottish Executive from in any sense confronting this animal and persuading it to take the boat back to Svalbard. It’s going to take something a bit sharper than a directive administered by email to get this ursine monster out of its cosy lair, where it is evidently having the time of its life. It is believed in some quarters that Mr S—–t S——n was prodded, trembling to just the other side of the studio door, prepared to remonstrate, when he heard first, a sniff as the beast registered his presence, then the heavy rumble of its mighty stomach.

3 Responses to “The Weather Apocalypse Bear”

  1. cp Says:

    You ned a snow rake, as observed in an earlier post. Try Amazon, and your local ironmonger and the nurservy. Hay rakes etc. won’t do it. Has to be a snow rake.

  2. Jane Says: produced no rakes other than the garden variety. Not known in these parts, it seems.

  3. The Man From Maryport Says:

    It sounds as if the Weather Apocalypse Bear is channelling the spirit of Peter Cook’s mad colonel addressing Captain Oates - Now look here, we need to boost mroale with a meaningless sacrifice. Go over there. Don’t come back.

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