Space Hoppers

Compo's money making scheme

Compo was gutted. He had been fired from his job as tinky winky in A local Christmas grotto. You can't tell 5 yr old kids that santa is really just a fat chav that only works 1 day a year, and spends the rest of the time down the pub spending his giro cheque.

Compo was crafty though, he had managed to keep the suit. "Does absolute wonders for my street cred he told the daily gathering at the T hut. Foggy and Glegg had had nothing at all to do with Compo since the timber re-cycling business failed to get of the ground, or should we say failed to get out of the actual harbour.

Problem was they were too easily distracted. They had both found work drying and refilling tea bags at the tea hut. (Always wondered why the tea there tasted shite)

"Forget em", said Compo, "Im starting my own business." "Im going to rear space hoppers and then when there grown, Im gonna sell em!." Its not widely known that space hoppers are actually cultivated from the eggs of the Giant Manta Ray.

Compo had got a few eggs cheap on e bay, from the Steve Irwin estate. He made a little corral in the harbour, and fairley soon, he was seeing the fruits of his labours. The litte space hoppers were growing well. A diet of north sea, gribble, and a smattering of something calle TBT saw them thrive. Compo was never happier than when he was tending his space hoppers. He would spend hours, stroking and talking to them.

"Come on you little bastards, you need to get fatter than that. What if that old seadog, Cap'n Bucko wants to buy one. You'll end up flat as a flippin' dab if that fat person sits on you. We need to get your more robust."

But Compo was happy. He loved his space hoppers. He didn't really want them to grow. He didnt wanna sell em.

He was rowing back to Lowestoft to get them some more feed, when he had a stroke of luck. A launch pulled alongside, just as he was clearing t'ed end.

"Ay'up, fat chap in a tinky winky suit " came the cry from the launch. "

Compo looked around. "Wonder who they're talkin' to? can't be me"

"Fat chap, row this way" came the voice from the launch. Compo looked over his shoulder. It was only Richard Attenboro, with a really rather large megaphone.

Pretty soon, Compo was alongside the launch, and up the boarding ladder , like a ferret up a ro do dendrum bush. Compo wasnt daft, (well, not as daft as he looked) Richard Attenboro meant the movie business, and that meant money.

"Ayup, whats your name?" said Attenboro" can't keep calling you fat chap in a tinky winky suit can I "

"I'ts Compo," said Compo, "east coast's finest rearer of space hoppers." "Do you wanna buy one, got a batch nearly ready."

"I'm the famous, Richard Attenboro" said Richard Attenboro, I don't bounce about on space hoppers, I've got a rather nice helicopter"

Compo wasn't impressed with the grinning, piggy-eyed little film director, but he was curious to know why he had been hailed aboard......

to be continued

	Compo's money making scheme Compo was gutted. He had been fired from his job as tinky winky in A local Christmas grotto. You can't tell 5 yr old kids that santa is really just a fat chav that only works 1 day a year, and spends the rest of the time down the pub spending his giro cheque.
Compo was crafty though, he had managed to keep the suit. "Does absolute wonders for my street cred he told the daily gathering at the T hut. Foggy and Glegg had had nothing at all to do with Compo since the timber re-cycling business failed to get of the ground, or should we say failed to get out of the actual harbour. Problem was they were too easily distracted. They had both found work drying and refilling tea bags at the tea hut. (Always wondered why the tea there tasted shite) "Forget em", said Compo, "Im starting my own business." "Im going to rear space hoppers and then when there grown, Im gonna sell em!." Its not widely known that space hoppers are actually cultivated from the eggs of the Giant Manta Ray.		Compo had got a few eggs cheap on e bay, from the Steve Irwin estate. He made a little corral in the harbour, and fairley soon, he was seeing the fruits of his labours. The litte space hoppers were growing well. A diet of north sea, gribble, and a smattering of something calle TBT saw them thrive. Compo was never happier than when he was tending his space hoppers. He would spend hours, stroking and talking to them. "Come on you little bastards, you need to get fatter than that. What if that old seadog, Cap'n Bucko wants to buy one. You'll end up flat as a flippin' dab if that fat person sits on you. We need to get your more robust." But Compo was happy. He loved his space hoppers. He didn't really want them to grow. He didnt wanna sell em.
	He was rowing back to Lowestoft to get them some more feed, when he had a stroke of luck. A launch pulled alongside, just as he was clearing t'ed end. "Ay'up, fat chap in a tinky winky suit " came the cry from the launch. " Compo looked around. "Wonder who they're talkin' to? can't be me" "Fat chap, row this way" came the voice from the launch. Compo looked over his shoulder. It was only Richard Attenboro, with a really rather large megaphone.
Pretty soon, Compo was alongside the launch, and up the boarding ladder , like a ferret up a ro do dendrum bush. Compo wasnt daft, (well, not as daft as he looked) Richard Attenboro meant the movie business, and that meant money. "Ayup, whats your name?" said Attenboro" can't keep calling you fat chap in a tinky winky suit can I " "I'ts Compo," said Compo, "east coast's finest rearer of space hoppers." "Do you wanna buy one, got a batch nearly ready."		"I'm the famous, Richard Attenboro" said Richard Attenboro, I don't bounce about on space hoppers, I've got a rather nice helicopter" Compo wasn't impressed with the grinning, piggy-eyed little film director, but he was curious to know why he had been hailed aboard...... to be continued