Issue 6 - November 1998

Once again, The Whiff is proud to present the exclusive column, written by the world's leading Para-Mentalist - Mr. Spurious Fella.

Hi everybody and welcome, once again, to the strange world of the para-mental. This has been a busy week for your menalist correspondent so let me update you as to my latest mental activities.

Monday

An early visit from the local estate agent starts the day. Why are they here? Well, I have plans to relocate so I'm upping sticks and moving to a plush new pad which truly befits my status as a leading mentalist. More of a launch pad actually. That's right readers, I'm moving into a huge, fully functional space-ship! It rotates and everything!!! I hear you laugh but I can honestly think of no better use for £5 million. I mean, if gullible people are stupid enough to line my pockets with their money, who am I to complain?

Tuesday

A little stuck about ideas for interior decoration so I make a quick phone call to Roswell to ask if I can borrow some of the items they may have lying around. For some strange reason that my mentalism cannot fathom, all I can hear is raucous laughter prior to the line going dead. Spooky, eh?

Wednesday

Decide to take my mind off the chaos of moving house by visiting my local football team. Sadly they are no longer in the division they were when I withdrew my mentalist powers. Well, they wouldn't be, would they? (Don't a few free tickets seem like small fry now?) Anyway, enough of this "vindication" of my powers.

I had hoped to be able to help in the push for promotion and leave all the bad history behind. What I wasn't expecting was a group of "Loyal Royals", led by that dreadful Kirkpatrick fellow, wishing to 'discuss' some of the finer points of my mentalism.

Thursday

While waiting for the consultant to set my multiple fractures I catch up on my weekly column for the local rag. As I only need the use of one hand to cut and paste from other articles, this posed no major problem.

Friday

Being encased in a full body-cast means I'm restricted to making a few phone calls to help furnish my new pad. Discovered that Ikea do a rather nice "Space Age" range that will complement my UFO perfectly. My mentalism was obviously interfering with the phone line as I kept hearing voices coming through the ether. Strangely, the salesman's voice would become muffled and I could then hear things like "I've got a right loony on the line" and, "Get me that special hospital number...quickly!"

Saturday

I've just been woken by a ringing noise coming from the downstairs hall - I still can't work out how that happens.
Looking out of my window I can see a couple of men stood by a white van. I assume they have my furniture although they seem to be holding some sort of bondage jacket?!? Oh well, things are never simple in the life of a mentalist, I'd better go and see what they want...

Sunday

At this point the entries in the diary stop without explanation. We can only hope that Spurious is back in time for next issues column - ed.
(Or not. The other eds.)