Posted in Category One, Retro on December 2, 2009 by Chadwick Monkeynuts

I think Cakes is back on the war path already. I fell asleep in car on Monday night and when I woke up yesterday morning it was encased in ice!
The sneaky bugger. I’m going to have to be more careful in future.

In other news, I have successfully renewed my subscriptions to Horse & Hound and Tractor Connoisseur. Result!

Relax Time

Posted in Uncategorized on November 25, 2009 by Chadwick Monkeynuts

Before I get back to business there’s a little bit of relaxing to do. So i’m going to kick back with a big box of Jacobs Water Biscuits, a small tub of Utterly Butterly and enough Stilton to sink a small battleship and watch Erin Brockovich on VHS.

Back From The Dead

Posted in Uncategorized on November 25, 2009 by Chadwick Monkeynuts

Finally managed to escape. Will explain all later… I have plenty of washing to do, and a hungry cat to feed.

In other news, it is rumoured that Geoff Cakes has escaped from Arkham so I’ll shortly be off on patrol.

A Small Package

Posted in Uncategorized on December 12, 2008 by Chadwick Monkeynuts

The phone didn’t stop ringing for the rest of the day. There was only one call though… it just rang and rang and rang. I would’ve answered, but I was stuck on the toilet with the raging squits thanks to a particularly bad pork pie. Chef’s Special, my arse. Literally, as it turned out.
Still, if someone was prepared to ring and wait ALL day long then they must be very persistent. Or demented, either way they’d be perfectly qualified to be my nemesis.

The next day I got up early, drank plenty of water to replace the fluids I’d lost the previous day, and sat by the phone ready to answer. Whoever had called the day before would clearly ring back… or so I thought. Unfortunately for me, I only had two phone calls and neither were applicants. The first call was the Launderette’s telling me my garments were now clean after the “incident”. I didn’t like the way they said “incident” so jotted their name down on my list of people to get even with. Noone upsets Fat Batman and gets away with it. Not without a nasty chinese burn, anyway.

Mid morning, I started to doze off.

I was awaken by the postman coming through the letterbox. By which I mean, I had some post. I didn’t mean he was crawling through the letterbox (although if he had, he’d be instantly installed as nemesis) and neither was he spurting through it. I simply mean I heard a bit plop on the door mat. Luckily, it wasnt a big plop. It was a big envelope. Pronounced “EN” velope not “ON” velope.

Like an excited schoolboy, I rushed into the toilet. The squits were back. Twenty minutes later I collected the mail. There was one envelope there. Hand written, no postage stamp or post marks. It had been delivered by hand. The name on the front simply said “Fat Batman” in blue marker pen. I carefully opened it, incase it contained poisoned gas or razor thin mad dogs or something. A single sheet of paper was inside. This too was hand written in blue marker. It said, chillingly, “I KOW WHERE YOU LIVE”. No shit. “KOW”. Moo.

I was worried…there was clearly some complete mentalist on the loose, and he was after me..

Ring of…Fire?

Posted in Uncategorized on December 11, 2008 by Chadwick Monkeynuts

So where were we?
Ah yes, the phone had started ringing.
I approached the phone with much trepidation. What if it was a potential nemesis calling? What if they wanted a fight, like, now?
Rather timidly, I picked up
“you left your clean undies round here”
“okay mum thanks”
With something approaching relief, I hung up. But no sooner had I replaced the handset in the cradle than it started ringing again. Thinking it was mother calling back as she’d forgotten to invite me round for the weekly Sunday roast, I answered in a more confident manner
“Yes, I’ll be round for Sunday roast”
“err… ok… unusual interview technique, but ok…”
“interview technique?… your not my mother”
“I know… this is….clive… isn’t it?”
“phew! Thought I’d got the wrong number. My names Trevor, and I’m calling about the job”
“ah yes… thanks for calling, Trevor”
I started to panic as I hadn’t worked out what I was going to say to any potential applicants. I was gonna have to blag it
“so, Trevor, what is your name, and what do you wear?”
“my name is Trevor, and I am wearing light blue slacks, a nice sweater and my slippers”
oh jeez, we had a right plank here
“no, Trevor, if you’re going to be my nemesis, you need a cool baddie name and a suitable outfit”
“oh, I didn’t think of that. I’ll call you back.”
And with that, he hung up….

Nice n Tights

Posted in Uncategorized on December 3, 2008 by Chadwick Monkeynuts

After posting my advert for a nemesis in Sainsburys, my next task was vitally important to my role as an all-conquering super-hero… I needed an outfit. This isn’t an easy task to achieve, for a number of reasons:

i) your outfit needs to look cool

ii) you need to be able to change into it quickly and in confined spaces

iii) it needs to protect you

iv) you need some sort of logo to go on your outfit

v) it needs to be machine washable – you get all sorts of nasty stains in this line of work

vi) you need somewhere to keep emergency snacks

vii) spare pair of pants, just in case

Of course, you then have to take into account the type of materials, the style, the colour… theres so much to consider. In fact, there was so much to consider I was off work for three days with a migraine. And to make matters worse, when I got back into the office, Fatty Atkins had stolen my Britney calendar and eaten my crisps stash.

My first point of call for creating my super-hero outfit, was to see what materials I had at home. Other than a impressive supply of underpants, some old curtains that could be made into a cape and a colander that could be a helmet, I had nothing. So I did what all super-heroes do, I went to see my mum. She lent me a pair of tights, but they laddered when I pulled them over my head. And they hadn’t been washed. And, as she pointed out, they were supposed to be worn on my legs, under my choice of underpants.

Taking the packed lunch she made me, I headed home. When I got home, things went from bad to worse. Not only did I not have a super-hero outfit, but Bollard my cat was wearing his own outfit:


Little bastard. There was only one option left: Google. So one quick search later, I stumbled upon the holy grail of super-hero outfitters:

The choice was amazing. I ordered my outfit, complete with “pure silk” cape, and was about to place my order when I realised I’d forgotten one vitally important item – my certificate of Super-Heroism. You can’t be a true super-hero without a certificate, so I added that to my cart and proceeded to checkout. £589 later all was ordered. Delivery was expected in a couple of weeks due to shipping from America. That gave me time to find the perfect nemesis.

I have now received the items. Here is my certificate to prove I am a real super-hero:


The outfit fitted perfectly, although it was slightly tight around the buttocks. No sooner had I put it on, than the phone started to ring….

The Beginnings Of A Legend

Posted in Uncategorized on December 2, 2008 by Chadwick Monkeynuts

To the untrained eye, I’m Clive – a 30 something office worker in middle England. But my outwardly average persona hides a secret – I’m a super-hero. I am Fat Batman. I’m in no way related to the real Batman, as he constantly reminds me on the rare occassions he returns my calls. But don’t let that detract from your opinion of me. I’m every bit the archetypal super-hero, albeit minus any discernible super-powers.
As I am introducing myself to you, let me tell you a bit about the history of Fat Batman…

It all began just over seven months ago, on a decidedly average drive home from the office. For once, I wasn’t on auto-pilot. I felt a strange tingling in my trousers. As I wasn’t flicking through the pages of Club International at the time, I was a tad confused. I pulled off, and into a lay-by. The tingling sensation had stopped, but I was a bit shaken so got out of the car to breathe in some fresh air. Unfortunately, a couple of horses had passed along the road a few minutes previous, so the air was fresher than normal. Glancing around, I spotted a young lass stood on the opposite side of the road, calling into the branches of a tree. Making sure I looked both ways, I crossed the road and enquired as to her anguish. The young lass, who was dressed a little on the chavvy side, if I’m being honest, said that her cat was stuck in the tree. Sure enough, just out of reach was her bedraggled pussy.

Being a helpful sort of fellow, I clambered up the tree, enticed the kitty over to me using some half frozen fishfingers that I’d bought that lunch time in Sainsburys, and zipped the little bugger in my jacket, before descending down again. The little bastard scratched like hell, and I still have the scars on my nipples to show for it. But the young maiden was delighted at my brave rescue of her beloved pet. She bestowed me with kisses and called me her “hero”. And THAT, my friends, was the first good deed of Fat Batman. I decided I had found my calling in life, so after that I’ve kept one eye open for adventure.

Having seen a few Superhero films, and read a few comics, I knew that all super-heroes had a nemesis. I didn’t so decided to set about correcting that. Where do you start, though? Me? I put a postcard on the Sainsburys Classifieds board:

Super-hero is looking for his nemesis. Must have slight evil tendancies, a love of lycra outfits and good sense of humour. Time wasters need not apply. Call FB on XXXXXXXXXX.

All I had to do now, was sit back and wait for the phone to ring.

Of course, every good super-hero also needs an outfit befitting of their status, and I was no exception….