[John Whitworth]

Janet Kenny is a prize-winning vegetable (as I said she would be) and Frank Osen and Robert Schechter are commended. I have the impression that Janet wins quite often. Is that so, Janet? This week's competition has possibilities, I think.

No. 2623: Name game
You are invited to submit an extract from a novel or play, of which one letter of the title has been changed (e.g., Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Deaf), in the style of the original author (150 words max). Entries to Competition 2623 by midday on 18 November or email lucy@spectator.co.uk. Email is preferable in view of the postal disruption.

[John Whitworth]

I ought to kick off with something here. I think this needs more work but here's a draft.

King Bear

Good Bear, sees’t thou these tracks across the snow?

I see them plain, good swinelet. What of that?

I fear, I greatly fear, companion Bear,
They presage something ill.

I think so too.
I know these tracks, sweet piggliggleface.
I do agnize the mighty Heffalump.

The Heffalump! Be still, my beating heart.
Knowst thou, my Bear of Bears, do Heffalumps
Gorge on that flesh a turbaned Turk abhors?

Alas, beloved hogling, so they do.
A sausage is their Christian repast.

Ursine Protector, hold my hand.

I will.
But mark! A second hideous Heffalump
Has joined her huge proboscis-wielding mate.

Is’t so?

Aye Porcus. So. Additional tracks.

Angels and Ministers of Grace defend us, Bear!

[R. S. Gwynn]

From As You Bike It

Jaq. All the world's a road,
And all the men and women merely cyclists;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time rides many kinds.
At first with three wheels, then with four for learning,
Then only two when training wheels come off.
He skins his knees and makes his parents shudder
When he fares forth from sidewalks into streets.
Then come ten gears, then carbon-fibre frames,
Then bright attire that girds his loins in Spandex
And sends him helm'd like Mars amongst the clowns
Who clog fair Arden's lanes. At last he comes
Full circle, pedaling slowly in his dotage
A three-wheeled geezer model down to Boots,
An orange safety pennant for his guidon,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans ears, sans muscle-tone.

[John Whitworth]

Ah, THAT's what I should have done.

[David Anthony]

That's effing brilliant, Sam, and you will surely win.

[Maryann Corbett]

I like both of 'em! And John, it was a particular hoot when I got to "Heffalump" and finally it all made sense and I about fell over.

But now Shakespeare is well and truly covered and I'd better have some other idea....

[Gail White]

I suppose poetry is disallowed, but I couldn't resist this anyway:

A SHROPSHIRE LAB

When I was one-and-twenty,
I had a labrador
who always ran beside me
on field and fell and moor.
My neighbors all declared him
as stupid as a log,
but I was one-and-twenty--
'twas "Love me, love my dog."

But when I took him hunting
he scared away the grouse,
and he was sadly given
to peeing in the house.
He dug up all my garden
and ate my favorite hat.
Now I am two-and twenty,
and I prefer a cat.

[R. S. Gwynn]

Some possible titles:

Everyfan
All's Hell that Ends Well
Mouth Pacific
Hicnic
Long Way's Journey into Night
Boriolanus
Heartbreak Mouse
Hedda Fabler
My Hair Lady
The Grass Menagerie
The Fan Who Came to Dinner
Beauty and the Yeast
The Boy Fiend
Charlie's Runt
Lady Windemere's Pan
The Frowning Version

And there's also Spamalot, which slightly bends the rules and has already been done.

[R. S. Gwynn]

Gail, Tim had better not see this one!

[Janet Kenny]

Pigmalion (Shaw)

Freddy: The new small snort. You do it so awfully well.
Liza: Where’s that bloody taxi?
Pickering: Something must be done to eliminate your sanguinary element.
Liza: Black puddings to you, you didactic old windbag. What have you left me fit for? I’m a sow’s ear in a silk dress.
Taximan to Freddy: Can I drive you and your pig anywhere Sir?
Freddy: Drive us to pig’s paradise. Her father is a rip snorter and she’s a bit of crackling.
Liza: I love a good sty in the country but I can’t sty here.
Higgins: Stay where you like ungrateful swine.
Liza: I’m off to Tuscany to tike the cure.