(Dougal, Google 007)

This story is dedicated to a local Lincolnshire ‘Lad’. Known locally as Dougal, often confused with Google and certainly NOT a 007 Ian Fleming character!

After critiquing Dougal’s home and lifestyle – comparing this to “a bomb site where the bomb had re-visited to have another go” (definitely not a disco) — Dougal’s closest friend Simon commented ….

“We can’t all be James Bond!”

Dougal, Google 007

There was once a man that lived in an old schoolhouse. The property was on the borders of a hamlet known as Somersworth and was surrounded by vibrant sunflower filled fields. It was also home to a cute little black dog. This dog, notorious for being tied up in the garden with a thick steel chain, was a sweet yet hyperactive Patterdale dog (nicked-named Twat-er-dale by his owner). And the man and the dog were company for each other, co-habiting happily together in the schoolhouse surrounded by sunflower filled fields.

The ‘Twat-er-dale’ Dog

For drivers that passed by during the day, the cute little black dog looked lost and lonely. He sat in the middle of the front lawn with his thick steel chain strained, waiting patiently for some attention or action. When the post person arrived, enthusiasm took over and through sheer excitement the dog would often break free. The cute little black dog knew that on the dashboard of the post person’s van was a large bag of meaty treats. If the post person was in a rush, he’d leave the van door open, dash to drop the mail through the mailbox door. And upon returning to the post van, he’d find a dog minus treats and an empty wrapper on the passenger seat.

Sunflowers of Somersworth

Directly behind the angelic scene of the old schoolhouse and cute little black dog tied up with a thick steel chain (just before the sunflower filled fields), was huge pile of rubbish. Even flies didn’t hang around this area of land and birds knew to fly at least two miles above. Because of the stench of the rubbish that was unbearable on a hot summer’s day.

The residents of Somersworth and other villages commented that even a fleet of JCBs would struggle to shift the rotting rubbish. As this rubbish had welded itself to the landscape and was now a local landmark to signify you were leaving the hamlet. Behind the first pile of rubbish (disguised by precariously stacked logs) was a growth of debris. This debris was dotted around the schoolhouse garden but was thankfully (for the local pig farmer further down the road) separated by a looped fence. Beyond the looped fence between the pig farm and the schoolhouse were the sunflower filled fields. Fields where rodents played from dawn to dusk that often ventured into the schoolhouse garden. Particularly since rubbish to a rodent was like light to a moth. And the garden (to a rodent) contained indulgencies within the debris and waste that were more refined than sunflower seeds.

Rodents and Rubbish Rotting in the Garden

Walking around the schoolhouse garden (being careful not to stand in dog poo) were various relics of ‘dead’ lounge furniture. Relics that had been donated (or dumped) by people that once lived then moved from Somersworth. It can only be assumed that former residents of Somersworth moved because of the smell. Or maybe (as well) because of the increasing size of rodents now roaming fat-bellied around the neighbourhood. The property and schoolhouse (and relics of rubbish) seemed to hold memories from the past for the man that lived there. Bygone memorabilia from those that had been and passed on. Or items that neighbours dumped before being gone to live elsewhere. Either way, this left the man in his schoolhouse on his own and a dog tied up with rodents and rubbish rotting in the garden.

The Twist to the Tale

The scene of the old schoolhouse surrounded by sunflower filled fields with a cute little black dog tied up in the garden might sound idyllic (at first glance until you see the rubbish). And perhaps you even have sympathy for the man on his own with rodents that roamed through the relics that were rubbish but held memories of the past.

But underlying the rubbish, the rodents (and empty vessels, pots, old coach seats, a raised ‘stage’ full of broken speakers, disposed of cable drums upended, abandoned sofas and piles of cardboard cut up in bags that had burst) was a different tale. A tale only I know.

For the benefit of later (later being from now on), the man that lived in the old schoolhouse (Dougal, Google 007) will be abbreviated to DG0. And his dog, CLBD (cute little black dog). In the covert world of espionage acronyms keep secrets, top secret. So, keep quiet and tell no-one.

Rodents like Rubbish

As said before, the rodents around Somersworth were somewhat larger than your average mouse or rat. These rodents appeared to relish the rubbish and were drawn by the smell of dried dog poo. The dryer the dog poo, the more mature the treat. And to a rat, 30-day old, dried dog poo was like a matured cheddar cheese from Tesco’s Finest range of foods. So, when the dog did his do-do (and the sun dried the poo), the rodents came from far and wide to indulge on these delicacies.

The man in the schoolhouse didn’t like waste. He’d often bin-dip in his own black bin (on the evening before bin collection day). Just in case he had inadvertently thrown something out that could be repurposed to add flavour (and colour) to say, an ordinary ‘ping-ding’ cottage pie. I once threw out some mouldy bread baps that had sweated in their wrapper, grown pink and green mould under the ‘woops — 20p’ sticker. Within ten minutes I caught him bin-dipping them back into the kitchen, rescuing these for himself before the rodents bin-dipped and used these as a special side to eat with their meat (matured dog poo).

The Shack

Known locally as ‘the community hub pub’, The Shack was (at one point) was a very nice summer house with fancy roof beams, flashing strobe lights and contained musical entertainment for neighbourly meetups on a Sunday evening. “The Stair and Clover” (The Shack for short) was the headquarters for covert, top-secret, espionage activity.

The Shack was located around the back of the schoolhouse. It was visible from the road and had the same vibrant backdrop of the sunflower fields. Often DG0 would bring CLBD from the front garden and chain him in the back to guard The Shack. To give CLBD more freedom DG0 would use a series of chains so that CLBD could gain height by taking a running jump at the specially stationed mouldy brown leather sofa. And the chains extended just far enough that CLBD could jump from the sofa, over the steel looped fence but fall short of landing the other side in the sunflower fields beyond. And no matter how often CLBD tried (using the sofa as a runway to clear the fence), he’d always fall short. And hang limp in mid-air with the chain still attached to his collar and caught short on the fence. The first few times DG0 rescued CLBD, dragged him back over, and cursed him for being so enthusiastic. Eventually this routine left CLBD with a hard callus around his neck.

Burning Bin Cauldron

The number of chains depended on how well guarded DG0 wanted to protect The Shack. If short and away from The Shack this signified no major threats looming. If the chains were several and CLBD could nearly reach The Shack (and jump the fence and hang there limply), this signified the possibility of a terrorist attack. Just in front of The Shack was a drum like cauldron. It looked like a fire pit that people sat around to keep warm during neighbourhood gatherings on cool summer nights. This burning bin drum like cauldron was of great fascination to CLBD. He’d constantly stick his head in the bin and fish out strange objects that would get flung in the air. These objects (often over-grown rodents) would land on the road leading out of Somersworth. If lucky, CLBD could catch a rodent, throw this in then fish out another that was his bigger brother. It was a bit like Mary Poppin’s Carpet bag in that way. What came out seemed impossible to fit in but when it did it had doubled in size.

Back to the Shack

The Shack on the inside contained a corner bar (to left of the double doors that opened outwards), a piano that was never played, two barstool highchairs, a few round tables and a selection of other stools and chairs of varying height and comfort. All these items gave the appearance of a back garden bar within an old shack of a summer house.

But not everything is as it first appears.

Linked to the offices of the National Crime Agency (NCA) The Shack, provided NCA links across the country (and the world). In pressing a button, disguised as a light switch that didn’t operate any lights, the piano (that was never played) transformed into fully operational surveillance equipment. The keys were keyboards that linked to a fallboard and this fallboard rotated into various monitors. The monitors televised live footage from overhead drones, high-street CCTV and hidden cameras within LCD TVs of homes (and offices) of those considered a national threat. The most frequently viewed monitors were those linked to the House of Commons, Number 10 Downing Street, The White House, the Kremlin, The Arg and Dave Dandelion’s Pig Farm on Somersworth Road. These locations were identified as the most politically volatile places to gain intelligence of plots. The plots were planning to ‘turn’ people’s minds by using AI (Artificial Intelligence) that had been specially developed by Microsoft Co-pilot. It was of the upmost importance that DG0 had knowledge of all potential plots that might ‘turn’ people’s minds so that he could deploy counter-turning tactics.

As well as a piano was a corner bar that lifted and dropped down into the basement beneath. The basement (under The Shack) was where all plots, pigs and prescriptions for drugs to de-humanise people were incubated. (More about plots, pigs and prescriptions later). The barstool highchairs seemed decorative but came in useful for meetings where fellow spies (meeting with DG0) could sit up high and feel important. The barstool highchairs were in very good condition — almost new — and somehow didn’t fit the ‘rustic-relic’ look of the rest of The Shack. DG0 explained that these chairs were on a monthly repeat order from Amazon. This surprised me at first, as DG0 was known for being tight, (don’t get me wrong, he always bought a round at the local pub and enjoyed ‘grand gestures’) but having barstool chairs that were renewed every month seemed lavish for DG0. That was until he explained that he was unconcerned for their monthly cost. This was billed to the Home Office. And he enjoyed their capabilities.

High-Standing Barstool Chairs

So, what capabilities did these high-standing barstool chairs have? Other than for spies to sit on and feel important because they sat higher than everyone else in The Shack. And if they looked new because they were on a constant repeat order with Amazon once monthly, what happened to the old barstool chairs? There was no evidence of any ‘dead’ barstool chairs in the schoolhouse garden. Just very old, mouldy brown leather sofas that smelled of dog pee and looked ready to fall apart.

When I asked, DG0’s response was, “The old barstool chairs? They’re in another hemisphere”.

Eventually I found out. These high-standing barstool chairs were indeed high. They had the capability of a shooting upwards high in the sky like a rocket. If a spy was found to be spying for the wrong side, he or she was invited to take a seat (in one of two of the high-standing barstool chairs) and made to feel important. DG0 was good at making people feel important but part of the play was never to admit he knew a spy’s real agenda — to spy for the other side! Within seconds of a spy (that was spying for the other side) sat on the chair, a quiver could be seen (not from the spy — from the chair). A few seconds later, the heat got intense, the roof opened and the seated participant was flung 3000 miles high into the sky.

DG0 seemed quite fond of deploying these chair’s capabilities. I noticed a twinkle in his eye when he pointed to the button to press that activated the rocket fuel ready to send a spy sky high into the stars.

Mouldy Brown Leather Sofa

The mouldy brown leather sofa was used often by CLBD, as a view point across to Dave Dandelion’s Pig Farm, to sit on or and pee up the arm. He also used the sofa as a runway but because of his chains, he still fell short and hung limply until he gained consciousness. The sofa had arms that were loose and when CLBD bounced against these with force, they opened secret hatches. These hatches revealed shoots to escape routes that were used in the event of ‘personality’ attacks. The types of personality attacks that couldn’t be overcome by sending turned spies into the hemisphere using the high-standing barstool chairs.

The Old Coach Seats

Down the road from the schoolhouse was a pub that served real brewed ale. Inside this pub time stood still. Untouched in years, its last renovation was in 1982 when the saw-dust was swept from the floor, a new wood burner was installed, and the old coach seats were ripped out. (These were eventually upgraded to coach seats taken from retired Merseyside Passenger Transport Executive buses). DG0 being who he is, had to have these in his back garden (as I said before — a bit tight because he didn’t like waste). I imagine local pot-smoker, Kurt ripped these out. Always up for a challenge, Kurt probably positioned them around DG0’s garden as further memorabilia from times past.

No one ever sat on the old coach seats for fear that rodents had shat on them or worse still, bred and given birth to babies that nested in the rusty springs.

The Stage

The raised stage forming part of a side extension to the garage, was also packed full of curiosities from bygone times. Like the garden, these curiosities were mainly ‘dead’ and consisted of a pool table with ripped felt (with ball catching baskets that were now used by rodents to sleep in like hammocks). Lots of wooden chairs (mostly with one leg missing). And sound equipment including broken speakers that were stacked to the ceiling of the stage. In fact, the broken speakers formed a maze of sorts that led to a doorway that was never used. Coated in cobwebs so evidence of no use in decades, CLBD chased rodents away from this disused doorway. From the cobwebs, he often finish the chase looking like a bandaged-wrapped mummy.

The Un-Flushable Toilet

When The Shack was deployed for community meetups. Or for matters of national security, toilet facilities were needed. The Shack was too small to contain wash or toilet facilities so instead DG0 opened his home, allowing people to use the guest toilet in his access hallway. It was the only part of the house anyone was ever permitted to enter. Beyond the access hallway, the walls were lined with boxes of video tapes, paperwork, books, new electrical appliances (still boxed up but dishevelled because rodents had chewed the corners), stacks of old laptops, boxes full of electrical cables, mobile phones, briefcases and handbags. (Handbags? Presumably some of these items were the property of spy’s that had been sent sky-high into the hemisphere, leaving their mobiles, laptops and briefcases behind.)

There always seemed to be issues with the guest toilet. Not because the cistern was lined with various cobweb covered objects, or because the shower cubical was filled with DIY tools, nor the Belfast sink that was home to dry toilet rolls or the handwash sink that had a large hedge trimmer stationed across it. The guest toilet (other than this being full of clutter) was quite cosey. Especially cosey for spiders that spun their webs around the window, the skirtings and to and from the walls to the various Sheila Maids that hung from the ceiling. The issue with the guest toilet was that it never seemed to flush properly. And when it did, the water would never quite drain to replace with clean. There was obviously a blockage (similar to what was going on in DG0’s head?) and I don’t think it was a dead rodent. But then, the stain down the pan was so dark, if it was a live rodent trying to get out, you’d only see a pair of eyes staring out from the gloom.

Generally, unless desperate, I never used the loo.

The cobwebs were evidence that in all the years the guest toilet had been blocked, the Sheila Maids weren’t moved as the webs remained intact. The wonder was what was hung on each Sheila Maid. Rows of black socks (pegged up by the toes) and black underpants (pegged up from the crotch). What was the purpose of having so many Sheila Maids, lined with black undergarments that were never moved?

Acoustic deflectors.

Not acoustic barriers (not like those used on either side of motorways, or city centre hoarding panels around construction sites to block out the noise). These sound deflectors just muffled noises. Noises coming from upstairs. Directly above the guest toilet was the main bedroom. And the main bedroom was where the first prescriptions were force fed to humans to dehumanise them. Those humans whose personalities became a threat to one another. (If you remember, the spies that were spying for the wrong side were already in heaven, but other humans were also a national threat.)

Prescriptions for Turned Personalities

If you remember (or skip back to the part of the tale titled “Back to The Shack”), I mention plots, pigs and prescriptions for drugs to dehumanise people. I also noted that Dave Dandelion’s Pig Farm was under close surveillance. And only sunflower fields away from DG0’s schoolhouse. I also described DG0’s bin-dipping activities. All for good reason.

Side tracking from this tale, many years ago I had tonsilitis so was prescribed penicillin. But unfortunate for me was my reaction to penicillin (an ‘intolerance’ to the legalised drug). At the time I was scheduled to attend a BT (British Telecom) CAD course. This CAD course (Computer Aided Design) instructed attendees on how to illustrate handbooks according to BT instructions to that subcontractors knew how to install underground telecoms correctly. I set off early, felt a little un-easy but not so bad that I cried off sick and cancelled the trip. The M6 came to stand-still traffic and I was stranded in the middle lane as my stomach started to turn. With a watery mouth and little other warning I covered my mouth only to shower the interior of my car like a famous scene for the 1973 film “The Exorcist”. I can still see ‘it’ in my minds eye dripping from the rear-view mirror. Enough to warn me never to take penicillin again as this was a powerful drug.

So, when DG0 bin dipped for bread rolls reduced to 20p on woops, he was looking for the value of the harvested mould that had been incubated. And mix this mould with a cocktail of other potions was enough to dehumanise humans and pigs. One key ingredient was the type of water used. It needed to contain a high chemical content of lead and mercury that would balance the recipient’s neurological health. And using water was a good way to dispense the drug nationally.

Something in the Water

Blackton village had slightly more about it that Somersworth. It had a newsagent shop, an ice-cream parlour, a couple of pubs, a teashop, a photography studio and plenty of residents that had rifts with one another. Most rifts were between siblings. Evidence of rifts were seen with a family of joiners (with a speed boat that had sat on a posh driveway and hadn’t moved in years). And a large piece of land that passed planning for 5–7 luxury houses (then lapsed several times), owned by twin brother and sister. There were many ‘sharers’ so lots of marriage breakdowns. But it was because of the rifts and the sharers that Blackton became a good test area for DG0’s “Neurological Neutraliser”. And as luck would have it, DG0 knew just the person to assist.

A female developer had bought up land in Blackton and was piloting a ‘District Water Supply’ that was pumped from beneath the ground. Her pilot pad and Pump House stood next to the land that had lapsed planning several times. And she’s noticed the boat that never got to float sat on the posh driveway. DG0 invested his interest in this new way to pump, filter (and infiltrate), his Neurological Neutraliser into Blackton’s local water supply. His initial trails on Dave Dandelion’s pigs had failed due to the high levels of peat on the land. And because pigs were pigs, they overdosed. Seen for space (by the spies sent to the skies), the pigs could be seen at high speed, creating crop circles! And because most humans travelled in circles (neurologically speaking), this was not the cure DG0 was looking to achieve.

The Pump House District Water now supplied 95% of the Blackton population so was the perfect test pilot for DG0 and his Neurological Neutraliser drug. The aim was to remove neurological traits (such as blame, jealousy, envy, greed, dishonesty, negativity, irresponsibility, possession and manipulation). And by introducing the Neurological Neutraliser into Blackton’s water, DG0 was able to observe the results through hidden cameras planted within LCD TVs of people’s homes.

Blackton Spring Water, a Household Saver

The modes of transport were plentiful for DG0. His infamous little red car (for local travel around Somersworth and Blackton). A white van for longer journeys with larger transport needs. A smart car (that wasn’t very smart because he’d lost the key). A small black car (a new edition that was uninsured so couldn’t’ be driven). A second white van (just for show or for spares).

And a boat.

The canal boat came in handy when the ‘something in the water’ went viral. Blackton very soon became known for its District Water Supply. And tourists tasting it liked it so much that the ice-cream shop started to bottle and sell it. In no time Blackton Spring Water (as it was branded) could be purchased from the ice-cream shop, the newsagent, it was sold in pubs and was the talk of most towns throughout Lincolnshire. People began to say it saved their marriage. Others claimed it contained anti-jealousy properties. Where blame was the game between siblings, the water reversed the irresponsibility to make the blamer’s blame themself. And after envy, greed and manipulation had ceased in Somersworth too, the BBC broadcast this phenomenon nationally.

DG0’s quest to dehumanise humans had worked! And even better, he had various modes of transport to distribute Blackton Spring Water. His little red car now hurtled around the lanes of Lincolnshire and looked like those used by Red Bull. His white van distributed the water further afield. He never did find the keys for the smart car. And as for the canal boat in Wigan, this was used to distribute Blackton Spring Water up and down the Manchester Ship Canal.

Somersworth Newcomer?

Although this tale sounds like a version of Ira Levin’s “The Stepford Wives” — don’t forget this is Somersworth. In Stepford the freethinker was turned into a compliant wife. In Somersworth the compliant are converted and free of bad thoughts. These converted humans were now free of blame, jealousy, envy, greed, dishonesty, negativity, irresponsibility, possession and manipulation. The fields are still full of sunflowers. The cute little black dog takes what he wants and wants what he has (from the post person’s van). And spies shine like stars in the sky.

So, next time you observe what looks like a neglected property, or a garden over-grown with debris. Don’t assume this is the house of man on his own, living with memories, rodents and rubbish. This could be the home of a secret agent whose purpose is neurologically neutralise the nation.

As for DG0, he always has a twinkle in his eye for a Somersworth newcomer. The door of The Shack is always open to you. But be warned, it is still carefully guarded by a callus collared dog. The rodents still roam and relish in the rubbish. But the water is drinkable.

To be continued (still more to explore in the tale of the mysterious stage door) ….