Author Topic: David Dickenson Deso.  (Read 19210 times)

buttgammon

  • Magnums (Magna)
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #270 on: February 19, 2021, 08:34:56 AM »
Dickinson bursts into the party, resplendent in his tracksuit and medallions. "Now then now then", he splutters around the unlit cigar in his mouth. It's Halloween 2018, and nobody is impressed.

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #271 on: February 19, 2021, 10:26:10 AM »
David Dickinson sets up his own fruit stall in the local market, and creates a new catch phrase - 'Punnet for pound'.

"Punnet for pound, these are the best strawberries you'll find from Droitwich to Southend!"

Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #272 on: February 19, 2021, 04:23:55 PM »
David Dickinson vows to bring everyone together with a good old fashioned tug-o-war in the village high street as soon as lockdown is over.

The next day Andrew Ridgley receives a hand written note through his door informing him he will not be welcome to participate. "I didn't even know we were having a tug of war," he says non-plussed to his cat Wham Rap.

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #273 on: February 19, 2021, 07:06:28 PM »
Though he has absolutely no musical aptitude whatsoever, David Dickinson can play the Cheers theme tune note-perfect on the oboe.

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #274 on: February 23, 2021, 03:33:59 PM »
David Dickinson is idly looking out the front window when a car pulls up outside and a young woman gets out.

"Oh fuck, it's Hannah Spearritt! Out of the way, Ada, I've got to scarper out the back!"

The doorbell rings and Ada Dickinson answers it.

"Hello, Mrs. Dickinson?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Hannah Spearritt, I used to be in the pop band S Club 7 and in family sci-fi drama series Primeval.

"Yes, I know who you are."

"I'm wondering if I could speak to David, please?"

"Er, he's not here at the moment... can I take a message?"

"Yes, please tell him that I am strongly considering contacting the police in relation to his hiring of some of my celebrity friends. He's been paying them slave wages."

"What?! That's nonsense! David has Joe, Ainsley and the lot of 'em on a tenner an hour!"

"I'm afraid you've been lied to, Mrs. Davidson."

"Look, I know my husband served three years in prison for mail-order fraud, but he was just a kid! He's long reformed his ways!"

"Not if the pittance he has my mates on is to be believed, Mrs. D. In any case, tell him I'll be back, and if he refuses to speak with me I'll be getting the law involved."

Spearritt leaves and David comes out from behind the coal shed.

"What did she say, love?"

"I think she's going to call the cops on you, David. By the way, I want an explanation for all this."

"No time Ada, love. I'm er... just going out for a drive."

David sits in his car, but before he starts the ignition, he puts on a pair of black gloves and places a bottle of chloroform in the glove compartment.

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #275 on: February 24, 2021, 01:42:40 PM »
David Dickinson spends the day in Nantwich shopping for Toby Jugs.

David Dickinson buys a marmoset and takes it for a stroll through the Lake District.

David Dickinson is good mates with Freddie Flintoff and the pair can often be found out and about. "Meself and Flinty are like that," explains Dickinson, placing two fingers together. "You'll often find us having a coffee - sitting the required two metres apart, of course - outside The Flemish Squirrel in Cleethorpes. We'd be having pints of good English beer, only they only do takeaway teas and coffee at the mo because of this bloody Chinese plague."

David Dickinson only smokes Players Navy Cut.

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #276 on: March 03, 2021, 04:47:29 PM »
Joe Swash is killed in an unfortunate threshing accident on the Dickinson estate. Dickinson reads a moving elegy for him at the wake:

"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Swashy got kilt by a freaking thresher machine
He was me North, me South, me East and West
Me working week and m'Sunday best

And that's that. Now here's Ainsley to sing Bill Withers' 'Lovely Day'."

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #277 on: March 04, 2021, 03:10:11 PM »
Thankfully, it turns out Swashy survived after all. He rings Dickinson to ask if he can take "a duvet day to recover."

"A duvet day? I'm surprised you can afford a duvet on the wages you're on, son! No sorry shouldn't have said that. Go on, stay in bed. Be here bright and early tomorrow, though. The well need's repairing. Dangerous job, I'll pop an extra £3 in y'wage pack."

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #278 on: March 06, 2021, 05:02:38 PM »
"Sometimes I feel like you don't love me anymore, David!"

"What's love got to do with it, Ada? What's love but a second hand emotion?"

"You're heartless!"

"Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?!"

Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #279 on: March 07, 2021, 02:08:41 PM »
David Dickenson starts a podcast called Carnal Confessions. His guests are Ainsley, Swashy, H from Steps and the rest who he compells to relate steamy tales by hinting at a future 3 digit (pence) payrise at some undefined point in the future.

"I'm telling you David, that's all there is, I've told you everything," begs an exhausted Bobby Davro at 4am in David's study.

"Come on Bobby, I know you've got something juicier than that!" rasps David. "No going home until you do, I need clicks and my subscribers' Caligula-like appetite for filth is insatiable!"

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #280 on: March 08, 2021, 01:51:16 PM »
"Hallo Swashy, how are you managing there?"

"Okay David, nearly finished planting the crocuses!"

"Listen, Joe... I know we don't see eye to eye all the time... and uh, I know I pay you less than a fraction of the minimum wage... but I kind of think of you of the son I never had. To that end, I'd like your consent on these adoption papers I've obtained."

"Er, that's... I dunno what to say, David."

"JUST SIGN THE FUCKING PAPERS! Sorry, son."

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #281 on: March 09, 2021, 04:57:49 PM »
"Who's the new geezer David?"

"Mark Morrison, H from Steps. You know, 'Return of the Mack'!"

"Oh yeah. I'll tell you what, he's mended that fence in no time!"

"Yes, he's a lot faster than one of people from S Club 7 whose name I can't remember. Somebody's getting the sack, and it's not the Mack!"

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #282 on: March 10, 2021, 04:09:49 PM »
"What's the pay like, Mr. Dickinson?"

"Two bob an hour. I'll lob an extra 50p on for the more dangerous tasks. Interested, girl from Vanilla?"

"No way no way - man-ah man-ah!"


Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #283 on: March 11, 2021, 11:50:30 AM »
"How about you, girls from B*Witched?"

"Two bob??? What are ye like?"

"Get a Life!"

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #284 on: March 11, 2021, 04:43:56 PM »
One particularly blustery day, David takes it upon himself to help the lads out in the garden. They he invites them into kitchen, pops the kettle on a produces a lovely fresh Battenberg. It's a wonderful, warm moment.

Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #285 on: March 12, 2021, 03:23:58 AM »
David Dickinson recognises Paddy McGuinness whilst browsing the isles at the local B&Q. 'Paddy, son - Dingly-dangly-doo!' Dickinson shouts from afar. McGuinness, momentarily confused and uneasy, smiles politely and nods.

Out of sheer frustration and with great reluctance, David Dickinson lists a job lot on eBay - a large collection of 'chancy' items he purchased at a knock-down rate from the estate of Willie Thorne. He sighs and calls out to Ada 'It's just a load of old Star Trek tat, Love. Can't make head nor tail of it'.

Whilst searching Google, Ada Dickinson finds the existing search term 'fat trucker cock'. Confused, she shows David. He perches his glasses on the tip of his bulbous nose and after some moments thought exclaims 'It must be one of those viruses, Love'.
Two days later David gifts her a refurbished tablet from CEX. The laptop is nowhere to be seen. Ada later finds it in the shed with a password enabled.

Whilst having his luscious locks trimmed and coifed, David Dickinson compliments a smart-looking young hairdresser - 'You're the spitting image of a young Johnny Weissmuller'. The hairdresser, nonplussed, simply asks '...Who?'

David Dickinson gifts Fiona Bruce a carved wooden phallic owl. A small note is attached to the base with an elastic band, written in a clumsy attempt at copperplate is the message 'Both wise and virile - DD'.

Having decided to keep one of the miscellaneous items from the Thorne estate, David Dickinson places it on the desk in his study as a paperweight. The item in question, a teal-coloured translucent glass-like cube, sits there for almost a week before vanishing. On the night of its disappearance, Dickinson finds himself unaccountably paralysed for two hours whilst sitting on the toilet, only moments after witnessing a blinding flash of light.
After the paralysis subsides, Dickinson walks timidly to bed to find Ada awake. It is now 02:47am. She glares at him - 'Have you been on that computer?' she asks. Trembling and unsure of what has just transpired, David simply nods and apologises.
In the weeks that follow, Dickinson is plagued by dreams of tiny people in medical garb taking scrapings from his skin, cuttings from his hair and fluids from his loins.
Day by day, absorbed in routine, he pushes the whole strange affair to the back of his mind and moves on.
 

Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #286 on: March 12, 2021, 12:50:46 PM »
David Dickinson wakes up at 5.15 AM, clear of eye and bright of mind. He sits up in bed, going "oh, eh, yes, ah", the cogs within his mind turning and fitting together.
He pats the sleeping lump of his wife beside him fondly, muttering, "Ada, I do believe the Muse has come calling and it is time for me to begin writing my erotic memoirs."

Dressing in his thigh-length indigo crepe kimono, he skips downstairs to his study and his beloved antique Underwood typewriter, the synpases in his brain sizzling with activity.
"A fine analogue machine!" he exclaims, running his hands over the typewriter's flanks. "A perfect conduit for a man's artistic flow."
He feeds a sheet of heavyweight cartridge paper into the Underwood.
"Perhaps a motivational tug before we get going? No, no. Better to write on a full bag. It keeps things urgent."

David Dickinsen, at his Edwardian roll-top desk, very slowly begins to type with one finger, like an aged, myopic hen pecking at a patch of dirt.

It were

"No, no, no, David. Come on. Get your head in the game."

backspace backspace backspace backspace

clack clack clack clack


It were was sweltering hot in the hospitality tent on Warrington Town Hall Green. The famous antiques expert

"Oh, that won't do, either. Come on, Dickinson. You can do this."

The famous antiques expert Lothario of Time, The Duke Of Dust, The Human Lovejoy, Sir Dorvid Dockinson

"No..."

Sir Dorvid Dockinson Dickin Davidson

"No!"

Sir Dorvid Dockinson Dickin Davidson Douglas D'Kensington

"Ach, nein!"

Sir Dorvid Dockinson Dickin Davidson Douglas D'Kensington Daniel Derbyshire

"Yes, mate... like it. Like it."

Sir Dorvid Dockinson Dickin Davidson Douglas D'Kensington Daniel Derbyshire loosened his cravat in the mid-day humidity of Warrington in the summer. He had just finished inspecting, appraising and valuing a whole

"A whole... load. A shit load. Big old massive shit load of tat. Massive smorgasbord of shit and tat and fusty front bottoms. Vast... a vast array..."

a whole vast array of trinkets, heirlooms, keepsakes and tchotchkes, and now he was spent. He began to unbutton his silk blouse in the heat, just as his assistant

"Fiona... Viola... Smith... Viola Smith-Bruce? ... Violinia Smythe Bruce... Fifi Bru..."

just as his assistant Fionuala Forsythe-Bruce entered, fanning her elegant, swanlike neck with an item of literature advertising the full itinerary of the weekend-long antiques fete.

"New. Cunting. Paragraph."

Her fiery green eyes momentarily locked hungrily and hornily with Sir Daniel's.

"Steady on, old chap. Don't want the horse to bolt just yet."

However, as consummate professionals on the antiquities circuit, they maintained a strictly platonic and respectful business relationship that never went below the table.

He stroked his


"No, David. Not yet!"

He stroked his picked up a Dresden porcelain dog statuette and weighed it thoughtfully in his hands.

"Miss Forsythe-Bruce. I do declare it is quite a scorcher out there."

"I concur, Mr Derbyshire."

"Lord."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's Lord. Lord Derbyshire, you fu


"Oh sod this!" Dickinson exclaims, ripping the paper out of the carriage and screwing it up into a ball. "I wonder if Hugh Scully's got any coke?"
« Last Edit: March 12, 2021, 01:01:09 PM by Gregory Torso »

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #287 on: March 15, 2021, 05:29:10 PM »
^Nice work folks!

David Dickinson does yoga naked in the loft to the sound of the synth flutes in Gerry Rafferty's 'Baker Street' on a 1-hour loop.

Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #288 on: March 16, 2021, 03:09:00 PM »
David Dickinson thinks that Cameron and Ferris travel backwards in time in the scene where they try and reverse the milometer in the movie Ferris Beuller's Day Off. "That's why he's singing about the Egyptians, he's met them!"
David's twitter bio is a constantly fluctuating ranking of 'me top three time-travellin-car films': Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Back To The Future and Herbie Subjugates the Gauls

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #289 on: March 18, 2021, 06:38:33 PM »
"Here Ainsley, don't forget we have to go to B&Q to get that garden equipment today!"

"Oh shit, thanks for reminding me, Swashy! We'll take my car... come on, Bobby!"

Ainsley, Joe and Bobby pop into the car. Just as Ainsley is starting the engine, there's a tap on the driver side window.

"Room for a little 'un?"

"Oh hi David... er, you're coming to B&Q with us?"

"Nah mate, you can drop me off at the corner shop. Need to get me Daily Express and 20 Rothmans. I'll make me own way home!"

On the way back, the lads spot David standing outside a pub eating Quavers.

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #290 on: March 19, 2021, 08:30:05 AM »
"Are you sure you won't change y'mind, Ainsley?"

"Nah, sorry David mate, gotta move on. That chef gig in Bradford is just too tempting."

"Alright mate I'll miss yah. Take care."

"You too, David. Bye."

And with that, Ainsley Harriott heads off into the sunset. As David Dickinson watches him go at the garden gate, Coldplay's 'Trouble' can be heard in the background. David starts to cry.

And then he suddenly turns angry.

"Turn that bloody racket down, Joe!"

"Sorry, David. Just thought a bit of Coldplay would be nice."

"I'm surprized you didn't see Ainsley off!"

"Eh?! Mate, I'm meeting him for a pint later. He's not leaving town until Monday."

"A pint?! Why wasn't I invited? Never mind. Just going to phone Gregg Wallace and see if he fancies filling in for Ainsley."

"Er, hate to break this to you David, but Gregg still has a decent TV career."

"Nah mate. He's on the rocks. The BBC don't pay shite these days. Greggs won't say no to an extra fiver each week for a bit of fucking weeding work!"

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #291 on: March 24, 2021, 08:55:02 PM »
David describes a local prostitute as "cheap as chips."

Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #292 on: March 28, 2021, 04:28:32 AM »
"A pint?! Why wasn't I invited? Never mind. Just going to phone Gregg Wallace and see if he fancies filling in for Ainsley."

"Er, hate to break this to you David, but Gregg still has a decent TV career."

"Nah mate. He's on the rocks. The BBC don't pay shite these days. Greggs won't say no to an extra fiver each week for a bit of fucking weeding work!"

After several weeks badgering Gregg Wallace finally agrees to visit the Dickinson estate.

"David mate, vis is a lovely 'ouse and garden, I've got to 'and it to ya. Ada's sponge cake was terrific, and its always nice to meet some of the lower league lads. But let's get serious- Why av you brought me here?"

"Joe, Bobby, grab 'im!"

Joe and Bobby spring into action, pinion the muscular presenter's arms and hold him in place facing David.

"Look into my eyes Gregg, look at me, don't look away, you're just lookin at me....lookin at me Gregg.... I'm going to count down from ten... three, two, one you're under the hammer!"

"Wow! You've done it David! He's hypnotised!" chirps Bobby. "Now what do we do with him?"

"Try him on the shed, there. And get his shirt off I want to see those famous muscles working for me!"

Two hours later Gregg has completed a new paint job on the shed. "Look at the quality of that finish, Bobby. Its magnificent. Would have taken you all day and still been covered in drips and streaks, I bet" admonishes David.

"Vat is a lovely shed but it needs painting" Gregg says suddenly in a strange monotone voice, and proceeds to start painting the shed again!

After seeing the shed painted seven times, David's finally able to get Gregg started on a new job- the long promised latrine. "Ada's always nagging me about you lot bringing muddy footprints into the house and using the good 5-ply quilted. It's time you had your own 'conveniences'." he briefs the boys.

The shirtless Gregg immediately gets to work but once again proves hard to control. "Bloody hell, Bobby. I nip out to Asda and this is what I come back to? The garden looks like someone's being playing snakes! Why didn't you stop 'im?"

Bobby suppresses a snigger. "We can't stop him, David. He's like a machine! Not sure if this hypnotism thing is working out the way you.. we planned!"

"Get Paul McKenna on the line. Pronto!"

"Paul mate, its David Dickinson. How are you?.... really? that's fascinating. Listen mate, need a favour. Been using your book to put someone under my control. Only problem is, its worked too well, I put him on a task and I cant get him to stop! Can you come down here this afternoon, snap him out of it?

"Great... great thanks mate. Sorry? Well, I thought it would be a favour but no problem...... how about five pounds?.... Wait,how much? Fuck off mate!"


 

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #293 on: March 28, 2021, 05:18:41 AM »
Gregg has been a good boy, and is allowed to join David and Ada for pudding.

"Cwoh, vat is lavely!"

"High praise coming from you, Gregg... spent all day on that lemon sponge and my hard work seems to have paid off! Gregg? Gregg, you're crying!"

"Calm down Ada, you'll wake him from the trance!"

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #294 on: April 02, 2021, 01:10:36 PM »
"David, it's on the news! They're saying Gregg Wallace has gone missing and his family are very concerned! We'll have to let him go!"

"Sigh. Fair enough, Ada. We had a good run out of him. I'll just let him help Swashy finish painting this fence and then I'll ring Derren and ask him about how to snap him out of his trance. Then we'll release him into the wild. He'll be a bit disorientated I imagine, but once he's off my property he's on his own."

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #295 on: April 03, 2021, 02:48:31 PM »
"ADA, I'M STARTING THE COMPLETE THE WOMBLES DVD I FOUND IN POUNDLAND NOW! COME ON, IT'LL BE DEAD NOSTALGIC!"

"YOU GO AHEAD LOVE, I'M CLEANING OUT THE LOFT!"

"PLEASE Y'SELF, THEN," replies David, as the oboe theme begins and Cribbins starts to sing.

Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #296 on: April 04, 2021, 01:51:18 PM »
"DAVID, ITS GREG WALLACE. HE'S UP HERE IN THE LOFT!"

"HE MUST HAVE WANDERED BACK ONTO THE PROPERTY IN THE NIGHT. IS HE STILL IN THE TRANCE?"

"LOOKS LIKE IT DAVID, HE'S JUST STANDING THERE STARING INTO SPACE"

"IF YE WANT SOMETHING ADA, SET IT FREE. IF IT COMES BACK- ITS YOURS TO KEEP! HE BELONGS TO US NOW"

"BUT WHAT'LL WE DO WITH HIM, DAVID?"

"EH... NOT SURE. LET ME WATCH THE WOMBLES FIRST AND THEN I'LL FIND A USE FOR 'IM. PUT A SHEET OVER HIS HEAD SO HE DOESN'T START MOVING AROUND UP THERE"


Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #297 on: April 05, 2021, 12:56:04 AM »
"FUCK ME A GHOST! Oh it's just you, Greggs. Forgot Ada threw a sheet over ya."

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #298 on: April 06, 2021, 12:58:36 PM »
"David, I'm leaving you! Your antiques obsessions have gone too far!"

"NO ADA, WAIT-"

The door slams.

David spends the rest of the evening emptying the brandy decanter and listening to his specially-prepared 'break-up' compilation tape. Genesis' 'Hold on My Heart' gets repeat listenings.

Glebe

  • It was just a bad fortnight.
Re: David Dickenson Deso.
« Reply #299 on: April 08, 2021, 12:24:31 AM »
Davro accidentally runs over Dickinson with the Flymo. "Just see Ada is well done by!" cries David as he disappears beneath the mower.

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