The recent BBC News report about the problems of illegal fruit consumption,
faced by Britain's strawberry growers, came as no surprise to Grimmclogge
farmer, Seth Rootkill, or subsidy Seth' as he is known by clerks in the
Ministry Of Agriculture Fisheries & Food. (writes ENN farming
correspondent, Ivor Gottergrudge)

Commenting on the news that a Cambridgeshire grower has been forced to
abandon his 'Pick Your Own' strawberry business dues to the vast tonnage of
fruit being eaten and not paid for by families out for the day (some of whom
began to bring bowls of cream to dip their illicit berries into) , Seth
recounted his own experiences during the Strawberry riots of the mid 1980's

"T'were the sodomites as were the problem we faced in them days", commented
octogenarian Seth, a founder member of the Anti Sodomy League (ASL) and a
lifelong advocate of compulsory heterosexual marriage at 18, "Not wholesome
normal families a-tasting o' the fruit afore they bought some"

"We was noted suppliers o' strawberries t' 'Arrods", continued Seth, "Ascot,
Wimbledon...all t' major events 'ad our berries at 'em - an' I knows fer a
fact that 'er Majesty, bless 'er, 'ad a partiality fer Grimmclogge
strawberries wi' a drop o' gin"

Seth then went on to recount the fateful day that an 'action party' of
homosexuals (allegedly specifically recruited by 'Bend' magazine for the
purpose) traveled to Grimmclogge to confront Seth over his 'No Queers' sign,
which was then prominently displayed at the entrance to his fruit farm.

"We allus 'ad t' be real careful not t' let sodomites near our fruit",
explained Seth, adding, "Specially as 'er Majesty might then inadvertently
eat some o' the very fruit what 'ad been touched by 'omosexual 'ands!"

I briefly toyed with the idea of pointing out to Seth that by the time the
fruit had been prepared by Palace staff it was almost certain that they
would have been handled by a hundred *** fingers - but decided that this was
not the time or the place in which to acquaint the impassioned old man with
the realities of a modern monarchy. Instead, I merely smiled and nodded as
he continued with his reminiscences.

""Up the driveway they comes", continued Seth, "Bold as brass moind you! -
a-wavin' o' moi soign an' singin', 'We're 'ere, we're queer, and we won't
disappear', or summat loike that!" "Next thing we knows is they's mincin'
over the beds, pickim' the fruit, a-tramplin' down the plants and froitening
all the decent family folks who was already there!"

"So I got on the phone to Bert at 'The Queers'", recalled Seth, "An' 'e
sends up some o' the lads ter see what wus ter be done" (note, 'The Three
Queers' is the local terminology for the 'Three Feathers' public house in
Grimclogge, so known by locals after the sudden death by a heart attack of a
previous owner, George Manly, who collapsed and died after his three sons
had simultaeneously informed him that they were all homosexual)

What happened next was the subject of national media coverage - the fracas
developing into a full blown riot that spread across four counties as
thousands of militant homosexuals were rushed into the area to defend their
peers - who, it must be said, fought bravely in the strawberry fields,
keeping the enraged locals at bay with a ceaseless barrage of well aimed
strawberries and strangely hypnotic '*** rights' chanting.

Special trains were chartered by the Campaign For Homosexual Rights, who
masterminded the rainbow response from their Much Sodding In The Marsh
headquarters, ferrying sodomites to 'Fight For Freedom In The North' (as
their hastily printed recruitment leaflets described events)

The riots became a cause celebre for all the various homosexual and
anti-homosexual lobby groups - even as 'Bend' magazine was urging the
residents of towns like Brighton to join in the fruit riots in order to
secure 'freedom', evangelical churches across Britain were organising and
training wholesome young men and women in various forms of combat, prior to
their hasty dispatch to what the Daily Mirror termed, 'The Strawberry Fields
Of Hell'.

As the summer drew to a close the battlefields were not confined solely to
fruit farms - other crops became involved in the fighting. It was a group
of Irish priests, sent under Papal authority to 'make a temporary peace with
the Devil' (in this case, the 5th Pentecostal Brigade from Lowesroft) to
'crush the iniquity of the sodomites' who first turned their attention to
the vast potato fields just outside Pickering in North Yorkshire.

Some say it was of necessity, others claim that it was homesickness that
drove the Priests into the potato fields - but, whatever the reason,
hostilities with the sodomites reached a new and more brutal phase when the
root vegetables began to fly! - casualties from the first day's fighting
alone numbered nearly 5,000!

After that all rules of engagement were abandoned as carrots, beans,
turnips, mangel-wurzels - in fact, every type of vegetable imaginable were
employed by each side in battles that increased steadily in cruelty and
ferocity as the weeks dragged on.

As with every conflict, tales of bravery and heroism emerged from both
sides - but, perhaps, none is more inspiring than the story of the Bradford
Baptist Boys Brigade, trapped by overwhelming sodomite forces near Ripon.

Scorning the call by the leaders of the homosexuals (in this case, the
greatly feared 'Frankie's' - named after their satanic icons, 'Frankie Goes
To Hollywood') the 17 year old in charge of the BBBB conringent, the aptly
named Captain Stephen Faith, sank to his knees in prayer with the hideous
war cry of the Frankie's, 'Relax, Don't Do It', ringing in his ears.

As Captain Faith prayed he felt himself instructed to lead his young troops
to an adjacent greenhouse - where, to his astonishment, he found several
dozen of the largest cucumbers that he had ever seen, each one well over 15"
long!

Distributing the heaven sent bounty to his band, Captain Stephen boldly led
them out of the greenhouse singing the 23rd Psalm whilst brandishing the
imposing cucumbers at the startled Frankie's!

At the sigh of these enormous vegetables the Frankie's hesitated in their
advance - before suddenly turning to flee in utter confusion. Still
singing, the BBBB marched inexorably towards their retreating enemies,
stepping triumphantly over discarded CD's and LP records, and trampling the
fallen rainbow flags disdainfully into the mud of the field!

"T'was a grand toime ter be a Christian", as Seth so eloquently puts it -
and, despite the hardships and privations endured by the forces of
righteousness at that time it's hard not to agree with him.

Who knows if the current Strawberry crisis will lead to similar events? -
all we can hope is that, if they do, Britain's faithful will still rise to
meet the challenge.

Seth will be there, that's for sure - and so will ENN



EXRXES NEWS NETWORK