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Alternatively (or when you get bored) return to Chineapple Palace
Ancestral home of the Chinapple Punx dating back to circa 1995. It is a splendid sumptuous mansion set in its rambling ornamental vegetable gardens. In the courtyard is the hub of the village - the miraculous beer fountain of Chineapple Vale. Their graces The Chineapple Punx are often in residence or seen kissing babies around the village.
The plantation and factory produces high quality beverage from the local medieval orchard within its grounds. A brew to behold with the colour of summer mornings and bastard strong to boot.
With swings and stuff where Chinapplians go to snog and ride their bikes
Legend has it that one dip in these hot geezers will reverse the aging process and make the bather irristisable to the opposite sex. A legend borne out by the dreamy good looks of the whole band.
15th century watering hole with Albert Roid and his lovely wife Emma as the hosts. A range of guest beers and a pipe direct from the Cider Farm and beer fountain in the village.
Sad fat ex chineapple Punx guitarist eeks out a living growing cabbages in his small holding (ooh err) and lives in a hovel where he plays blues out of earshot of other villagers.
A patented invention of The Chineapple Punx which allows them to release no end of crap produced from no end of crap.
Hoorah for Arthur's famour spring rolls and other traditional Chineapple cuisine. Pop in for a 53 and 41 side dish.
Including exhibits such as the Lord Chunky's space helmet, Charlie Harper's original hair from 1978, a bloack of peat once used as a condom by Charles II and the only funny joke ever told by Growbag whilst entertaining an audience (in a bad state of repair). It alos houses James Jim Bobs Guitar Wizard's special NOFX exhibition (free netry to Blue Peter Badge Holders)
On the actual spot where Chunky the pineapple shaped envoy from planet Del Mon Te touched down on planet Earth.
Keeping up admirably with the demand for runner beans for gig related antics. But also producing a bumper harvest of root crops and brassicas to keep the village's fart powered electrical turbines running.
Come along and cuddlel a Tamworth or caress a Saddleback, cruelty free and smelly as buggery.
Tubes running from all the villagers homes direct to the plant produce a never ending supply of natural gas and electricity. Just don't get too close to the cooling towers.
Serving tasty Indian nosh like bombay plums and hedgehog madras and other stuff (great Elvis impersonator).
Run by the ever vigilant James and his team of cack handed surgeons and often attended by Uncle Creaky (see Uncle Creaky's Knife Shop). The hospital is entirely staffed by buxom nurses in saucy uniforms apart from the ladies ward where nurse James does his rounds in a sequinned G-string. The hospital's alcohol rehab unit was opened earlier this year by Jimmy Savaloy and boasts a 100% failure rate.
For drowning Christians.
Stacked with goodies from the steel guitar masters of the South Seas. Rumour has it a customer once looked round in 1987.
Morris dangleberry was the first man to greet Chuunky on his mission from space and dropped dead on sight of the interstellar wierdo. Heart Failure was later established as the cause of death - though conspiracy theorists suspect trapped wind.
One end of the ride on railway passing through the village providing family fun and making us squeal with delight at the little trains. Martin from Ciderfex is often found here sipping warm cream of scrumpy from his thermos.
The other end of the railway line
With bananas to suit all budgets. Old Sicilian Mr Dinsearno provides bananas from the whole village and rumour has it, runs the local mafia of which he is the olny member (aged 78)
As proprietor of the shop Uncle Creaky is often forced to dmonstrate his knives effective cutting edges by severing variou sparts of his body. Unfortunately this renders him totally useless at drumming for long periods of time.
A quaint little guest house with lovely frilly doilies and charming cream teas. Run by chamber maid and psycho nutter Dorothy Axemurderer. A widow 17 times over, Mrs Axemurderer ius a total fruitcake and many guests disappera myseriously in the night. Some nights the sound of a distant chainsaw echo accroess the village. These are the night on which Mrs Axemurderer claims to have been playing bridge.
No one apart from Dooog knows what is in his secret shed. He is iften seen going in, but always locks the door. Even the windows are covered over. Ideas of what's inside range from a rude girlie magazine to a secret network of tunnels and high intelligence subterranean space laboratory. Although, on reflection , the former seems more likely.
Where Mr Maxwell and Mr Lucan live. Two charming gentlemen who live a quiet life and are only rarely seen around the village on their lovely horse Shergar
Tequilla and peanuts bar. The Chineapple Punx are often found wearing dodgy Mexican moustaches and dribbling on the floor in this quaint ale house. Run by Dick Dogsdick and his wife John
Hand stiched silk Y-fronts produced to prder by Mr Chan a master tailor. Th eonly pant to be seen around town in this season as featured in top fashion columns of the Punxville Herald and the Chineapple Gazette.
Mr Growbag has been known to be found prancing naked backward sround a bonfire at full moon at this ancient pre 1970 edifice. No one can bear to look long enough to find out exactly why.
Thanx are due to
Infinite Fish for providing the background
© 1997 (though you can copy something if you really want to)
E-mail Dooog
Comments gratefully received
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