Competition No 3862
Set by John O'Byrne, 13 December
You were asked for excerpts from How to . . . books on just scraping by.
Report by Ms de Meaner
This week, we mourn the death of John Marriott on 29 November, aged 92. He was a "regular" for many decades and after his retirement he had even more time for the NS comp. His 1994 rendition of "Imagine" (sung for Tony Blair) was a masterpiece and was reprinted in Blairway to Heaven: "You may say that I'm a dreamer,/But I believe that you/Will not just lead the party/But lead the country too./Imagine that election,/I wonder if you can,/Where all the floating voters/Decide that you're their man./ Imagine you're the winner/Waving from Number Ten./Yuh-huh." In 2004, he was still going strong, and his letter to our "Ann Widdecombe" problem page (Leda: "The other day I was sitting in the sun after bathing, when a large and beautiful swan settled on my naked body") got an hon mensh. He will be sadly missed. This week, an hon mensh to Keith Norman; £20 to the winners. D A Prince also gets the Tesco vouchers.
. . . Cook for Middle-Class Friends. First buy lots of French peasant crockery in precise shapes/sizes. One of them should exactly fit the family-sized, Waitrose Bistro Frozen Ready-Meal Lasagne. Remove the cardboard packaging and put it straight in the dustbin; you don't want nosy parkers opening the under-the-sink waste bin and finding you out. Scissor off the foil case while the lasagne are solidly frozen. Grate some Cheddar on top and maybe sprinkle a little paprika. Heat according to instructions. Place the contents of a bag of a Waitrose pre-packed salad in a pretty dish. Put yourself out a little: add something of your own. Sliced cucumber, perhaps? Decant your favourite bought mayonnaise into a pottery jar and add snippets of something green. Leave a dirty balloon whisk in a mayo-smeared bowl. Sacrifice an egg. Flush it down the loo. Display the shell on the draining board, near a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil.
Anne Du Croz
. . . Be an SUV Driver Without Spending a Fortune. Look shifty when pollution/ congestion is discussed; increase your hangdog demeanour when 4x4s and SUVs are blamed for trashing the environment/ planet/universe. Mute acknowledgement labels you the rich owner of a megamonster. Never discuss engine size: imagination, as ever, supplies any deficit. A remaindered atlas develops your road language, implying you've burned rubber on every number you name - the 5-1-1 (never 511) through Groby, the 38 through Burton, the bends on the 52. Drop the A, though M is essential. Half-hour monologues, entirely by numbers, with exaggerated timings, prove your credentials. Opinions: sat-nav - good; speed cameras - bad. Gob on the congestion charge. Always juggle an impressive key: size is everything.
D A Prince
. . . Practise Medicine Without Any Medical Knowledge. This is safer than you think. Not every client believes that he will win his court case, but everyone accepts that some day he will die. Presentation is better than cure. Reconcile a man to his disease and he is yours for life - or what remains of it. Tell him his disease is rare. Many people would rather have a rare disease than be cured of a common one. Tell him his illness could be named after him and he will look forward to major surgery without anaesthetic. Phrases such as gonococcus infidelis and interpontine catarexia can be relied upon, but do avoid phrases your patient may have heard of: coitus interruptus has ruined many a medical career. In a tight spot, bring the earpieces of your stethoscope together and say in a faraway voice: "This must appear in my research paper." His look of pure delight will give you all the satisfaction of being a doctor, without the burden of years of study.
J Seery
No 3865 Set by Gavin Ross
What with daffodils in Sheffield in December, our traditional seasonal proverbs and verse require updating. Entries to be in by 27 January. E-mail: comp@newstatesman.co.uk
