Now, many an ABC (Alien Big Cat) has been seen about the English Countryside. Pumas, Tigers, Panthers - not to mention the Beast of Bowthorpe, the Costessey Cheetah or the Sabre Teethed Tigers of Catton Mango Grove.
For now the residents of Essex are High on something.
High on
A Lion
In Claton.
Which is better than being high on Celine Dion in Bolton.
or something.
Anyhoo, up comes them GovernMental Men In Blacks with their conspiracy tales.
"No ma'am. That was no lion you saw take down that Gazelle. That was your average ginger pussytat!"
Now, I'm no David Attenborough, but even I know the difference between a monster moggie and a great big feck off lion!
One sits there, sunning itself and licking it's arse. The other is a bloke in a bad aminal costume prancing off to see sorcerers who will fill his custardy heart with bravery.
Then again, it wasn't frolicking in the field with a silver-painted bloke with a funnel on his bonce, a Wurzel without a brain, and an underage schoolgirl.
Unless it was some other form of ginger pussy, if you know what I mean (and I'm sure that you probably don't if you're a "friend of Dorothy").
These Government Agencies must think Joe & Josephine Public are stupid!
Honestly, some huge beast with a great mane rears up at you, biting your face off - it's hardly likely to be Mr Tibbles from next door is it!
It wouldn't surprise me one bit if we had feral lions roaming the English countryside. After all, Yarmouth houses the HIPPOdrome - and hippopotomi aren't supposed to be native to the Norfolk shores!
Actually, come to think of it, these so-called Hippopuomussessessessesses in the Hoppodrome look suspiciously like Horses to me. Mind you, this IS Yarmouth, where the slack-jawed web-fingered local yokels have probably been convinced that a Greyhound is one of them there Velociraptors out of Jurassic Pork.
Hold on... what's that in the mud flats...
Uhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrromnomnomnomnomeuargh!
Yikes! Save yer cauliflower...
