People and stuff

Name: Erasmus ‘Klump’ Klipperhundth
Occupation: Idiot; Amateur wrestler; Ambassador to Barnsley
Background: Studied metric birds of prey at Humberland Polytechnic, graduating with honours and a discrete limp; helped compile a non-definitive list of words that do not signify Easter for the University of Boulangerie; failed repeatedly to kill himself during the summer of ’89 due to a spoon malfunction; Hates horses

People 29

Gerald Smythe-Smythe-Smythe (pictured) was the result of a drunken liaison between a yard of sharp sand and 3 feet of gravel in the back of a Ford Capri in the late 1960s. After an office Christmas party, since you asked.

Abandoned by his mother shortly after birth, Gerald spent his youth selling his sweet tushy on street corners and briskly fellating elderly men in exchange for their medication. By 7 and a half, Gerald had his own private colostemy bag collection, and a devoted following of lice.

On his thirteenth birthday Gerald was robbed, buggered, strapped to a barrel and left for dead on a traffic island in East Cheam. His unlikely rescuers, 3 sardines in sarongs and a pickled cucumber, were to prove both his saviours and his lunch.

Wracked by guilt and pant-shattering wind having consumed those who had helped him, Gerald made a vow to erect a church on that very spot to St. Fishy and The Tangy One. A vow he was soon to forget, however, due to drug induced amnesia and a double frontal labotomy administered by surgeons after we was hit, full on, by a bus leaving the traffic island.

Thrust back into the community, short to the tune of the front half of his brain, Gerald took to the scientific community as a means of getting laid cheaply and easily. Accepted readily by Engineering Faculties across the land, Gerald lived a facile life of nerdy bespectacled discourse and embarrassing, apologetic sex in the dark.

He also did some research, but it was all rubbish.

Gerald was eventually kidnapped and turned into the south-facing wall of a shed. Serves him right. Tosser.

People Schmeeple

Name: Anton “Frere” Hutchings-Colossomi
Occupation: Full-time weaver of wicker baskets; Transcendental clay artist; Secretary-general for the Society for the Rights of Nomads and Vagrants; Insurance underwriter
Where: Lives in a converted bus shelter in and around Macclesfield
What: Not a scientist per se, Hutchings-Colossomi has nevertheless been instrumental in several recent, rather astonishing and possibly implausible discoveries. They include:
*being the first retarded person to find the quickest route between Salford and Worksop (a feat that has re-invigorated the once declining trade in exotic spices and dead mice);
*turning ice into water in a lukewarm place (both assisted and unassisted to avoid ambiguity);
*constructing the definitive pie-chart (pictured);
*managing to successfully weld the theory of quantum mechanics to the carburettor of an ageing Fiat Panda;
*the now widely accepted method for genetically manipulating the common (and most recently the rare) lisp (pictured).
Anton is currently working on a self-assembly AirFix kit of the USS Viagara and has plans to expand his renowned wicker basket road show to include certain postcodes in the North East and a brief stop-over in Guernsey
Favourite book: “He’s cool bruv – the hip version of the bible” by Frantz Sudovikamaan
Likes: A hairy back
Dislikes: Diffraction; Soya; Food laced with arsenic; Being called a spazzer (pictured)
Favourite word: Spam (pictured)
In brief: Severely mentally handicapped by his own volition. Approach with due diligence

People > 3 fl.oz

Sir Francis Shamal Davenport is at age 12 currently the oldest living scientist in Suffolk (if you discount Larry Lammambear, who for all intents and purposes is the older of the two). Most of our readers will already be familiar with Davenport and his work, especially his contribution to the world of regional science.
Sir Francis is a self-proclaimed neo-physicist with a background in dense geospatial meta-geometry, a subject that he invented aged only eight (this is disputed; some claim he invented it at age nine).
He is one of three members of the Suffolk Higher Intelligence Taverna who has a key to the auditorium, a fact that frequently thrills Sir Francis to the point of questionable ejaculation.
Despite being a very busy man (he regularly works anywhere between five and seven hours a week, often in the afternoon), he agreed to take time out of his schedule to do the following interview. We met him in a science lab behind the Harry Ramsden fish and chips restaurant near Brent:

PG: Sir Francis, thank you for taking time out from your busy schedule to do this interview. I would like to start, if I may, with your latest project, the Van der Graaf Degenerator. Could you tell us a bit about it?
FSE: Yes, yes I suppose I could. Is now a good time?
PG: Yes go ahead. How did you get the idea for the degenerator, and how does it differ from the standard Van Der Graaf generator?
FSE: Well for starters, it looks different. You may have noticed that it is painted entirely in mauve, whereas the classic Van Der Graaf tends to be of the stainless steel finish variety. That and the name is different, too. I've added a “de” to the beginning of the “generator” part. Mine has more buttons as well. Buttons are important. Sorry what was the other question again?
PG: How did yo get the idea for the machine?
FSE: I haven't got the faintest idea. What was the question again?
PG: errm.. the question was: how did you come up with the idea for this invention?
FSE: ahh yes, I see. I see.
PG: ..was it the result of research or did the idea for the degenerator originate somewhere else?
FSE: yes, absolutely. Very much so.
PG: absolutely as in it was the result of research, or absolutely as in the idea originated somewhere else?
FSE: I would much prefer to talk about my more recent work, if that is at all viable?
PG: .. yes of course. That is fine. What are you working on currently?
FSE: I've been trying to tell you all afternoon. I've invented, and indeed roadtested, a Van Der Graaf Degenerator. Can we talk about that instead?
PG: by all means, please proceed...
FSE: Thank you. Could I have a glass of water? I am feeling rather parched
PG: there is a glass right in front you Sir Francis -
FSE: So there is, so there is. This is why I love science.
PG: What, exactly, does the Degenerator do?
FSE: ahh excellent question! I am glad you asked that. This interview is going rather well, wouldn't you say?
PG: ..well yes, but -
FSE: Very well. I might have a quick nap. Would you pass me that pillow?
PG: Of course I can, but Sir Francis, what about.. wait a minute, what pillow? We're in a lab?
FSE: Sorry I thought it was a pillow. My mistake. You won't write that, will you? Makes me seem rather silly. I'm afraid I'm rather prone to silliness prior to taking a nap. Cost me my marriage and, in hindsight, probably about 11.34 euros as well. I never got the money back, either. That wasn't a happy time. I'd rather not talk about it anymore. Would you like a mint? I make them myself.
PG: err, yeah, sure, why not? Thank you.
FSE: -
PG: hang on, that's not a mint! It's a piece of chalk!
FSE: Rather clever, wouldn't you say? Looks like a mint, but doesn't taste like one. Tastes like chalk.
PG: look can we please return to the interview? We asked you how you got the idea for the Degenerator?
FSE: ahh yes, yes. The idea. Well you see it all started because I have this rather infuriating problem, - no one understands me
PG: what do you mean?
FSE: you see?!? you see??
PG: no, I just meant -
FSE: well this has been great. I will now have a nap. Can you pass me that duvet good man?

At this point Sir Francis stood up, flapped his arms whilst letting out odd guttural sounds (that his agent later attributed to Davenport's diet and early onset of dementia, and his alcohol problem) and proceeded to run into a wall repeatedly until he passed out in a foetal position on the floor. We decided now would probably be a good time to wrap up the interview.
Despite his fierce intellect and incredible gift for solving complex equations using krills as X, he has yet to find permanent employment, preferring instead to pretend he is an average sculptor relying on patronage from a fictional Marquis known to Sir Francis as Leo for sustenance.

People 9:15pm

Boris Yegor "EQuail Rights" Podomatsky has had lived out his feathery existence blighted by misfortune. Accompanied by his ever-faithful top hat "Sexy Bitch", Boris was laughed out of kindergarten for not having any pockets, shunned by the opposite sex for insisting on bringing "Sexy Bitch" on dates and booking a separate seat for it on aeroplanes, and denied a place at Oxford University on the grounds that he was "just a fucking quail for God's sake".

A lesser quail would have quailed at such adversity (I am so very very sorry. Really I am.) but not Boris. Spurred on by his blind, screaming stupidity and the sweet sweet loving afforded him by his milinary chum, Boris took up the sword of self-rightiousness, the shield of justice and the underpants of bed-wetting and started the campaign that was to earn him his nickname "EQuail Rights".

With the wind at his back (brought on principally by his diet of refried beans and millet) Boris started a dull and uninspired leaflet campaign demanding that Quails receive adequate representation in both Parliament, and the work place.

While this campaign went entirely unnoticed by everyone, it did have one strange side effect. A telemarketing company in Hove was so wracked with guilt at its own singular failure to employ anything not of the Homo Sapiens flavour, that it immediately gave 3 senior marketing executive positions to a travelling trio of giraffes, much to the chagrin of the door frames and ceiling tiles of West Sussex.

In his spare time Boris researches the gambling habits of poultry and the static electricity he creates in dry-humping his, largely felt, "Sexy Bitch" could power one electric eel for approximately 0.385795 seconds.


Please note: This is no way simply a vehicle to allow me to Photoshop a top hat on to a Quail. Just so you know.

People 44

Morritz “Neville” Schumann has just been appointed chief editor for the Wigan toiletry manufacturers’ trade publication ‘Faecal Matters’. Schumann has stepped into the role following the shock departure of the previous editor, Jacques Jacaville Jacobaueys, who quit only a few hours ago citing “irreconcilable differences with the general realms of Braille”.
Morritz (pictured) has had a long a and colourful career before joining the Turd, as the publication is known in the industry. He started his own gravel pit at the age of just nine with the help of loan from his deceased gran. He sold it to a mate for a few shilling the year after and began branching out in to different areas of enterprise, including such diverse areas of pseudo-commerce as ‘air vender’, ‘purveyor of lintrubbings’ and a brief stint as Mayor of Clydesdale.
Some insiders in the industry believe “Neville” is the perfect man for the job, having only just recovered from a protracted and quite unnecessary lobotomy at the Oldham Royal and General, where he also sold shoelaces to the infirm. Minority Faecal Matter shareholder Ryan Giggs (perhaps mainly remembered by some for his lacklustre career as a sportsman for amateur football club Manchester United) is pleased with the appointment. “Schumann will be a great asset to the publication. A great asset” he told SpasmGasm earlier this evening, whilst eating someone’s spleen.
Schumann’s first move as chief editor will be to install a fridge in the third floor gents, commission a piece on the irregularities of Haydn and declare himself a persona non-grata. “I can’t wait to get stuck in” Morritz said at a press briefing just minutes ago, before going to the lavatory for a quick curl.
Schumann, despite his relatively bland history, harbours many secrets. He is an avid fan of modern necrophilia (and currently a fulltime practitioner, pending further action by Accrington constabulatory), he likes spending time with his family and enjoys the rigorous demands of jazzercise, which he finds “about as invigorating as debasing a corpse – really great stuff”.
“Neville” does have his work cut out for him, and we shall follow his progress with glee.
Jacobaueys, who during the last 83 years managed to steer the publication from being side-player in the industry to the fully-fledged voice of northern toiletry manufacturing we know it as today, is believed to be somewhat devastated and rather baffled by his own decision to quit. Speaking from a house in Rattby, a close friend of his informed the Gasmpire that despite the upheaval (some thought he would die in his post), Jacobaueys is content, albeit baffled and devastated. Some guys in a pub that we spoke to suggested that Jacobaueys “take a couple of days off and then decide what to”. “Yes” added another.
Jacobaueys is widely believed to have his eyes on the editor’s job currently unavailable at the local Brunswick News and Mart newspaper, owned in part by ex-Leicester City journeyman Steve Claridge.
We wish Jacobaueys the best of luck and look forward to a new glorious era of toiletry-related scoops and analysis at the helm of Schumann, who sadly died last year from hypothermia whilst cleaning out his garage.

People #666

Friedrich ‘Z’ Schmaltze is the current inventor of the wheel.
He started and still runs a home somewhere not far from Dorset for castrated Belgian mime artists and their children. When he’s not busy knitting triangular woolly sleeves in gradients of beige, he likes to campaign for the extended rights of dead elks. His commitment to the latter is presumably partly attributable to his rather astonishing achievements as a participant in the annual 1983 Moose Cup, where to date he has finished 2nd, 37th, 11th, 16th and 321st, respectively. Sadly he was disqualified during last year’s competition for having an unruly moustache.
After several failed attempts at garrotting himself with a rope made from ovulating snails, he has now set his sights on growing a crooked beak.
His favourite food is tripe served on a bed of cured eel.
He also does stuff with chemistry, but as this in itself is rather boring, we won’t go there.

People, or persons thereof #18

Sandra McGivenchy-Vestibule has spent the last six years in the science wilderness following her public announcement to devote her life to solemn remembrance of the world’s forgotten cheeses. Prior to her erratic televised outing, she commanded the respect of fellow scientists and real people in several continents as a result of devising the definitive number of anagrams of the word ‘sputum’.
She married young (some say perhaps too young - some question if she should have married at all) and left her home in Hokie Town, Alberta with her partially disabled husband Jeff van der Filderbarnns to seek new fortunes. Whilst earning her rent working for a rogue Salvation Army splinter group known (even today) simply as 3.1#, she also attended weekly evening courses at the Academy of the Lesser Sciences and Home Economics, where she eventually graduated due to a technicality. Armed with her new degree, it didn’t take Sandra long to approach a company where she got a job doing something. Then she did some science stuff and became a scientist and world famous.

She had it all: the trappings of adulation from scores of mentally handicapped lab assistants (some barely alive!); the weekend trips to Hull; the membership loyalty cards to Primark and the coveted Flannel Producers Prize of Distinction for Doing Stuff whilst Sober (with Flannel, or Flannel-derived Products).
While most people could only dream of such dizzying heights of achievement, Sandra did not balk at the opportunity to use her fame for good causes. During a postgrad fellowship trip to the Isle of Skye (to study the relationship between oxygen and other stuff), she endeared herself to a band of freemasons intent on preserving (and if at all possible, cataloguing) the world’s dying cheeses. Sandra there and then decided she had found her calling.
Twenty years later she made the by now infamous speech on Granada Television’s fondly remembered programme ‘And so it was that this happened sometime in the last five or six days’. Perhaps the repercussions of her strong views took her by surprise, perhaps not. No one cares. But her life was never the same, and with her demise she left a great, gaping (and somewhat smelly) hole in fringe science; a hole that may never (nor should it) be filled.
Sandra currently lives in Prestwick where she runs a 16th century mill with her second husband, the aptly named parakeet Wilson.

People 709B

Anthea Jones looks like a tall man with a beard and lives in a cave with a family of stoats. Plus, her beard is ginger. Urgh.

Her close proximity to such ermine beasties as lead her to study them. Short on choices, in truth it was either that or trying to mate with one. Not easy. They are wiley.

By dint of Anthea's dedication, and exhaustive research, the world of science is now able to make the following authoritiative statements without fear of contradiction:

1. Stoats are by no means a match for 4 badgers drowning in a barrel of sputum at the game of Mah Jong.
2. Stoats cannot spell "stoat".
3. Some people are very strange indeed.

Anthea is now 49 years old and has never splashed the milk of human kindness on her cereal, but she has pooed in the shoe of a man who later turned out to have a third nipple. She went on to eat him alive over the course of several days, but always to the tune of "She'll be coming round the mountain" as played on a set of bag pipes made exclusively from sedated stoat pups.
To quote Anthea herself "There is no limit to what I can accomplish". We all know this is a lie.

In her spare time she plays volleyball for a team of entirely imaginary marmots, and puts thumb tacks in slightly less imaginary elderly toads.

People X

Name: Eloise Fleetwood-Twat
Occupation: Domestic appliances technician; Scientist; Nun; Author of adult novellas based on the life of Philip II of Macedon, King of Macedonia and conqueror of Illyria, Thrace, and Greece
Where: Lives in a semi in Slough
What: Rears dead squid; Collects postcards from Lichtenstein 1837-1837; Claims to have discovered the difference between one and several, where one is one and several is also one; Captains the Women's Shorthand and Deskfan Society, Slough division; Eats a lot of beans; Keeps a spoon permanently edged on the top of her dressing table, 'just in case'; Likes to imitate life by being incoherent and frequently dead
Says: “To hell with plantain you mutha!”

People 666.34

Name: Callum Davenport-Ishmael
Occupation: Weirdo, scientific misfit
Pros: Knows how to boil an egg
Cons: Has a beard; looks vaguely idiotic; mentally unstable
Likes: 'All the good things in life'
Dislikes: Carbonated water; apples; facial hygiene
In brief: Odd

People 344

Sean 'Poof' Coombs is a remarkable character. Seen here pictured with his failed 3-D rendition of the "1812 Overture", he has gone from strength to strength yet has consistently failed to make any discernible impact on the scene. This inadequacy to get the gratificiation he so desperately craves has had a vaguely negative impact on his life, work and general appearance. His facial hair, although far from fetching (and, seen in conjunction with his general physical demeanour) has done him little favours. As a scientist, Coombs is rubbish. Look at him. He is a loser. That makes him a perfect scientist/researcher, and he'll probably end up wedding an older version of Borland. And he is chubby (note: weight has no bearing on scientific merit, althougth it makes one look fat). Has an irational fear of East Finchley tube station. He also posseses a quite pungent odour that, in his own words, emanates from bakelite jewelery. He supports Bradford FC. Good luck.

People 17

Name: Hanna Jean-Luc Picard Olesen
Occupation: Modest researcher, part time concept
History: Vague, at best. Something to do with robo-ethics and the notion that that quails emanate from outer space. Allegedly born with only one face (pictured).
Most notable achievements: First female scientist to disprove popular myth relating to bears and defecation in forested areas. Once made a drawing of the ugliest person ever to be born (pictured).
Current activities: Some, although this is may or or may not prove to be the case. Perhaps unsurprisingly no one seems too bothered (I care. I really do - Ed.)
Favourite animal: demented crane (pictured here, without pseudo-iconic wings).
Pet hates: Odd-shaped pebbles. The feeling you get from staring too long at essence of vanilla.
Loves: Using industrial adhesive for attaching face to reality (pictured here, without reality). Freddie Mercury. Miscellaneous items beginning with 'L' that have double meaning when poorly translated into Cyrillic.
Famous quote: "Open flap, close flap" (pictured here without flap).
Would like to meet: Baron Asquith of Bishopstone (1890-1954).
In brief: Despite being twice voted female scientist least likely to win a game of charades, she has nevertheless reached such dizzying heights of abstract deduction that currently people in her surroundings are wholly unaware of her existence. Runs conceptual bed and breakfast in CLydesdale with notorious underground rapper MC Bake, with whom she also shares a penchant for Mexican hairdryers.

People 16

Dvorak 'Sunny' Algaetramp is the head researcher of the Albanian Research and Science Emporium based in Doncaster, UK. Despite winning several pointless awards, Sunny is perhaps best known for his flamboyant style and patented electromagnetic jacket (pictured). The latter is said to posses near-mystical properties that may or may not enable Sunny to fly. His long career has often been dogged by allegations of links to the Welsh mafia, with whom he enjoys a good working relationship. During last year's Conference for People Who Just Don't Care Anymore and Molecular Biologists, rumours quickly spread that Sunny was 37% whelk or possibly feathered – a rumour he has since vehemently defended. He is currently dead and now spends his time studying drawings of old carp. Hates the thought of having to use a 0.5 ball point pen without consulting his local MP, who incidentally is also dead.

People 15

Hassana McNielsen-Xiaoping has over the years earned a reputation as the wild woman of molecular wind turbine research. Her formative years were spent touring with Jeff Ruby, a now defunct Neil Diamond covers band, where she discovered (amongst other things) the true value of life. When Jeff Ruby acrimoniously disbanded mid-tour in Berkshire following the Tet Offensive, Hassana was left to aimlessly wander the streets in search of new pastures green. After setting up a charity for disabled entrances Hassana chanced upon a non-scientific formula for Easter, after which she gave up on her charitable work and entered a prolonged pseudo-religious relapse. Then, in 1992, Hassana embarked on what is now generally accepted to be one of the most intriguing careers in science outside of the domain of reality. Hassana is responsible for inventing the inverted colon; establishing a semi-autonomous region in the wastelands between Hull and Whitby populated entirely by discarded Amstrads; adding a ninth note to the flute scale and disproving the existence of solid air. In 1993 she successfully lodged a piano in her mouth (pictured) and now plays the Marseillaise every time she laughs. Hassana currently lives as a hermit in the Welsh Appalachians, relying only Carling and bark for subsistence. According to her agent she is busy rewriting the King James I bible using only words beginning with F.

People 14

Name: Baron von Kaven
Real name: Baron von Kaven
Occupation: Baron, science maverick, deceased
Likes: Reading, speaking with a lisp, ape-like erectile dysfunctions
Dislikes: Mauve hosiery, unprovoked happyslapping, having been dead since 1953
WLTM: Like-minded baroness, preferably deceased, preferably named von Kaven (purely for practical purposes)
In brief: Baron von Kaven is probably best known for his 1953 stage adaptation of the Gregorian calendar at the Anderlecht Civic Centre and Pie Shop in which several members of the cast are said to suffer from a mild cold. Was once married to Diane Keaton (this has later turned out to be a mistake. He was, in fact, not married to Diane Keaton). Claims to have been partially responsible for the development of the 'Catchphrase' television game show concept, - a claim that has since been reputed by sources close to sources close to Roy Walker. Disputed originator of the expression “so is this Myanmar? Rub the grass!”.

People 13

Professor Captain Eusebio Bouillabaisse has been thrilling the scientific world for nearly eleven decades with his surreal and increasingly erratic take on marsupial mid-wifery. His good humour and unfaltering desire to rid the world of witches and women in general has meant he is becoming a permanent fixture of the scientific jet set. His recent commercial offering, the unabridged talking book version of the periodic table, is expected to sell in its thousands and rumour has it he has begun work on a board game based on the life of William Conrad Roentgen. Despite his current status as one of the top people in the world, Bouillabaisse began life under rather more humble terms. Believed to be the result of a chance and unholy alliance between ex-Leicester City “journeyman” Steve Claridge and ex-second choice Lassie stunt double “Spot”, Bouillabaisse experienced a traumatic childhood moving from trailer to trailer in Pinewood studios in search of Rough Collie-based movies in need of stunt doubles. Once work dried up following the 1987 “Lassie-Gate” cocaine scandal, Bouillabaisse was forced to go live with his dad in a nano-shed behind the Leicester City training grounds. It was during this time that Bouillabaisse developed his love for science, in particular the science of something to do with stuff, and materials. Basing his future career on the achievements of his childhood hero General Pinochet combined with his love for rice pudding, Bouillabaisse started his ascent into science stardom armed only with a map of Yorkshire and a spoon made entirely from the bones of South American dissenters. Within weeks he had secured a lucrative position as a Tory advisor on internal affairs and catering, rubbing shoulders with and giving advice to the top brass of regional canteen politics. This in turn led him to discover a second, non-existant Fibonnaci spiral and the assertion that existence is a by-product of lint. Neither event really made any impact on the world of science and Bouillabaisse was quickly promoted to head researcher of the known world and Mexico, a role he still holds and relishes. In spite of recent research efforts that have garnered actual results, Bouillabaisse looks certain to keep his semi-legendary status in the murky world of science. “I can't see myself doing anything else” he says, “ except perhaps the laundry, now that my maid has died. I had nothing to do with it, by the way. She strangled and then buried herself quite without any assistance”. Bouillabaisse is currently getting dressed for dinner somewhere on the French continent.

People 12

Morten Nilsson-O’Toole, maverick coiffeur, and Nobel prize-losing biologist is one of the few members of the international research community to fully embrace the cross-disciplinary requirements of the rapidly evolving miasma of academe. He is also one of the first to volunteer to be publicly flogged with a chicken by 7 Jehovahs Witnesses in lederhosen – but singly failed to recruit any suitable fowl over the age of consent. One sparrow did offer to step in at the last minute, but was later discovered to be a meercat in disguise, much to everyone’s embarrassment.

While other, blinkered and introverted scientists stare at their shoes and shuffle awkwardly as the prospect of using the loos on another floor in the faculty, Morten threw off the shackles of shyness and seized the opportunity to meld his two, disparate loves: hairdressing and animal biology. As such, he is credited with the inspirational creation of the fusion hairdo wave, including the now world famous B52, consisting of 52 honey bees stapled to the wearer’s scalp. Latterly, other interpretations of note include the “crop” – follicle replacement with cress seeds, and the “Mohawk” a small bird of prey called Mo tethered to the skull with a dozen elastic bands and a long afternoon of reasoned persuasion.

Somewhat catastrophically, however, Morten’s career was brought to a sudden end at a conference displaying the fruits of his labours, when Mo spotted a gang of militant field mice skulking in the cress, and began taunting them with a series of bitter jibes, suggesting that they all smelt of “tinkle” and “doody-pops”. So cruel were the words of the hawk that a fierce brawl ensued, during which an atomic wedgie, administered to Nilsson-O’Toole, inadvertently detonated a grenade he had been hiding up his bottom “for a rainy day”. Fragments of his obliterated trousers have been pickled and are now available for purchase on eBay.

People 11

It can be said, without fear of contradiction, that Simon Lavendar Bickerstock is the most committed geologist the world has ever seen. The self-proclaimed "Messiah of Mineral Deposits" and "Grand High Priest of Beryl" began his career early.

Aged 12, Simon sold his immortal soul to the devil for nine shiny pebbles in a bag. The devil, so Simon claims, does not, in fact, wear Prada, but a thermal vest made from the still-beating hearts of 903.42 newly-butchered kittens, and a pH-neutral surgical mask because his Mum said it helps with his allergies.

By 19, he'd had his first taste of Ordnance Survey maps, and immediately submitted himself for clinical trials. As a result of this he has but 7 fingers, a nervous tic and can only sleep when completely enveloped in custard.

At 24 he was already Geologist to the Queen's Fishmonger, and was revelling in his new developed taste for geo-erotic literature and film. To date his PornStone production company has released 47 separate features, and a spin off sit-com. Worthy of note are the "Rock Hard Series" including: "Rock Hard lays down his salt deposit", "Rock's Gypsum Frenzy: Milky Quartz Edition", and more recently "A Fine Day or a Schisting" and "Debbie does Zhonghuacerite-(Ce)".

After this golden era, however, Simon lost his muse and is currently wanted by Hertfordshire Constabulary for 3 counts of indecently assaulting scree, 2 counts of improper relations with a yard of sharp sand, and for indecent exposure in a quarry. He is also rumoured to have personally licked a steep scarp slope, which cannot be named for legal reasons.

Mr. Bickerstock also has three failed Guinness World Record Eel-Swallowing attempts to his name, and is a founder member of the Upper Dingley-Moore Fruit Bat Combustion Team.

People 10

Louise Croft-Mullerhausen has never been one to take the obvious route to research fame. Fresh out of high-school in 1998, Louise began a journey that would eventually see her rise to the top of the research league in Greater Blackpool. At the age of 43 Louise invented and constructed the 'white plank' (pictured), a feat that landed her an advisory role for the University of Guelglo. Whilst at Guelglo Louise helped develop the theory of 'F', lobbied for the introduction of Twister (tm) fries to the canteen menu and single-handedly reared several marsupials, all of which have since died under near-mysterious circumstances. Following the success of the 'F' theorem and the subsequent demise of the Canadian Alabaster Council, Louise upped roots and got a job working for Norwich Cement and Auditing, a small Devon-based company specialising in artificial birds nests for decorative purposes. During her spell at NCA, Louise accidentally discovered free-form freak out (which would later evolve into what is today know as jazzercise) and helped design the award-winning 'Bald Eagle Concrete Nest, type A3.2'. Based on the premise that concrete and birds DO mix, Louise managed to achieve what no researchers had managed before her; to develop a product which was useful to the general populace of birds (including birds of prey and some dolphins) whilst still retaining some of the idiosyncratic features inherent in concrete.
In the last few years, Louise has settled down in her native Wessex, dividing her time between writing endless letters of complaint to Channel 5 and looking after her 34-year old daughter, Asphyxia.

People 9

Clyde, the 18 foot "imaginary" blueberry muffin, has had a life ravaged by tragedy. As a young crumb in South Ossetia, Georgia, he was a member of the Southern Ossetian Dramatic, Operatic and Musical Youth where he fell deeply in love with an older danish pastry called Claude. Claude, ruled by his heart, longed to move to Hollywood and see his name in lights. When the chance came, he stowed away in a whoopee cushion and fled to Tinseltown. Clyde's heart was shattered, as he had no money, no passport, and was unable to indulge in international travel as his homeland was unrecognised by the UN. Bastards.

Claude went on to appear as the left hand side of Princess Leia's hairdo in Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope.

By the time Clyde finally escaped to the States, he was a bitter bitter individual (mainly because he'd gone a bit stale) bent on reeking his terrible revenge on all manner of pastry items. It was this that drew him to Barbara Templeton-Phipps. United by their mutual spite and hatred for croissants they would plot the demise of cookies, pain au chocolat, and scones long into the night, cackling harmoniously over a fresh pail of tears.

It was then that Clyde met Calypso, a flirtatious canary from East Cheam, who coaxed him, with whispered promises of indiscretion and a thimble full of millet back onto the straight and narrow.

Clyde has since risen through the ranks of Academe to the esteemed position of 3rd Deputy Snack Item, and longs to finally tumble from his vending machine and bask in the blessed relief of a pair of soiled, ill-fitting dentures tearing him asunder, ushering him, gently and quietly into THE DARK.

While he still has breath, however, Clyde has applied to continue his father's labour of love in Ireland - an in depth palynological study of blanket bogs, and who knows, maybe even get round to finally preparing the illustrations for his much-hyped forthcoming catalogue of decorated brooches.

In his quiet hours, Clyde likes to stalk Barbara Templeton-Phipps (see below), collect disused fingernails, and reinterpret modular arithmetic in sonnet form.

People 8

Name: Gordon Hillary Brusq'ue
DOB: 11/3/1856
Occupation: Chief scientist and co-founder of the Children and Young Adults Molecular Experience drop-in centre in Mape, Worchestershire. Active member of the Frankfurt Aviatory Appreciation Society, or FAAS.
Hobbies: Likes to collect anything from tinted glass mosaics to pictures of culled baby seals. Enjoys wearing adult diapers and driving to the country side in his Morris Marina.
Describes himself as: Male, predatory and slightly 'beardy'.
Favourite book: “Moths: Friend or Foe?” by the Belgian Tourist Board.
Likes: Bleach-based cleaning products and autonomous swan communities.
Dislikes: Travelling in a straight line.
Would like to meet: Princess Margaret, the Countess of Snowdon.
Little know fact: Uses his sweater to confuse his prey.
Catchphrase: 'Have you checked the cabinet?'.

People 7

Charles "Barbara" Templeton-Phipps is a man apart. For the past 15 years 9 months and 8 days he has been relentlessly stalked by an 18 foot imaginary blueberry muffin named Clyde.

In face of such unremitting torment a lesser man would have crumbled, broken by the sinister fruit-based shadow, looming, ever-present, there.

But no. Adversity, they say is the mother of invention, uncle of genius, and second cousin twice removed of Eddie "the Eagle" Edwards. People should stop listening to "them".

Brave and committed, Babs has recently dazzled the research world with his latest opus "Why penguins can't wear knuckledusters, and other social injustices". This work was greeted by utter silence from everyone, which was appropriate, for this, my friends, is the "Penguin way".

As if further vindication of his/her existence were needed, Babs has quite literally made a name for himself by ingesting an entire set of Scrabble tiles, and logging the order in which Nature returned them. As such, Babs has submitted a deed poll application to have his/her name changed to: QZZT "Sweetcorn, I don't remember eating sweetcorn...oh...maybe it's a peanut" FRRTGPJHH-Blank. He is expecting a response in due course.

In his/her spare time Babs enjoys torturing croissants and devotes 4 hours of every waking day to sobbing disconsolately into a bucket.

People 6

Name: Bent Robespierre-Mulvad
DOB: 5/9/1943
Occupation: Amateur quantum physicist, baker
Hobbies: Watching television, going for long walks in nature and putting fire to marsupials with a squash racket doused in paraffin
Describes himself as: Kind, bubbly, fond of electromagnetism, a 'bit of a player'.
Favourite book: “Lurn to spill in too monfs” by Niels Gutierrez
Likes: The fact that water boils at a 100 degrees celcius under normal atmospheric pressure conditions
Dislikes: Mink
Would like to meet: Humans that aren't dead
Catchphrase: 'I said ONE scoop!'

People 5

Nigel Spazma-l'Oeuf has become one of the most respected scientists in his field during the last few decades. He has so far released nearly two studies on his speciality subject of thermal parapsychology, making him one of the most prolific researchers of his generation. After suffering his ninth successive nervous breakdown in the summer of '69 following the death of his diabetic parakeet and lifelong companion Max, Spazma-l'Oeuf went on a spiritual journey to Bracknell where he eventually settled. It was in those early days in Bracknell that Nigel met the now notorious Dr. Smaek, author of the “Man-Goat Experience” and sometimes colourful curator of the Leicester Sewage Museum. Despite becoming friends, the two spent most of week 30 penning what was to become “When numbers don't add up” and “Mechanised Trilby Hats: The Untold Story”. Both texts are now considered classics and have led to some not inconsiderable debate on both sides of the river Wey.

After falling out over an unpaid fishing licence late last year, the two are now working separately in a race to become the first westerner to successfully isolate sand from beach matter.

In his spare time Nigel likes to count from 23 to 56 using only the power of his brain which he says “is simply amazing”.

In brief:

Favourite food: spam.
Favourite music: no.
Favourite pastime: Eating spam whilst not listening to music.
Favourite celebrity: Prince Andrew.

People 4

Marjorie O'Smythes is perhaps best known for her contributions to the quarterly Is That It? popular science publication. Her award winning column frequently touch upon such controversial topics as dysfunctional arithmetic, the true age of clay and the subtleties of crane rearing. Marje cut her teeth developing simulation models for frigid magma during a long period as a research administrator at the University of Skaepe, near the Little Chef junction just before Birmingham. More recently she has travelled to and from Skegness, donated her collection of whole beaks to the Maritime Museum Fowl Department and applied for Burkina Faso citizenship. Of the latter she says 'I just felt it was time to move on. Much like the person who decides it is time to move. You know, like relocate or something. Almost like the otter returning to the fold. No actually exactly like that. Except of course I am not an otter and I am not sure what type of fold the saying refers to. Apart from those caveats, the meaning is loud and clear. And I stand by that, much like the trajectory of a maligned cormorant'.

People 3

Clive Caramba is currently the head physicist at the Worplesdon-based polystyrene manufacturers' think-tank The Mug. Before his career in policy, Caramba specialised in surreal computing at the University of Duck, an untenable tenure resulting in his now semi-legendary work on the abstract relationship between odours and sparse bindery, now commonly referred to as the 'mime theorem of unknown and established integers of cloth”.

During his time at Duck U, Caramba gained notoriety on the social circuit through as series of daring and unconventional DJ-sets involving himself, two Soca Anthems albums and copious amounts of maple syrup substitute. Speaking of those heady days, Caramba recalls how he 'used to just go mental, you know, really push the boat – sometimes i would stay awake until two or three in the morning, just pulling out all the stops'.

It was during one of these infamous nights that Caramba met Bente Pedersen and they were to forge a relationship that lasted several days. 'She wasn't ready for the world I inhabited', he says, slowly sipping a cup of hot fat, ' but there was a magic connection between us that I can only explain in terms of gerontology'. Bente since went on to achieve other things in her life, none of which are particularly noteworthy.

'Are we still in contact? Yes, I actually spoke to her last year at a conference in Basingstoke. She didn't recall who I was at first but when I did my syrup-substitute routine she said she remembered who I was. Then she left' Caramba muses before ordering another lardy broth.

Clive is currently wanted by South Wales Constabulary in connection with a series of brutal verbal attacks on the region's pipe-manufacturers.

People 2

Renowned campanologist and composer of over four ringtones, Gwendolyn "G-dog" McArdle has been pilloried by the international research community for her attempts to create a sentient Space Hopper by cross-breeding a BMX and a morbidly obese leukemia sufferer named Dave. In response to such wide-spread criticism her open letter of rebuttal, provocatively entitled "La la la, don't care, not listening", was warmly received by the militant group Space Hoppers Against Gravel, and has since been short-listed for the Man Booker prize for Fiction Written on the Back of an Envelope.

When not busy in the lab, G-dog likes to relax by taunting carp, and painting dogs with creosote.

People

Ulla McDonaghue is perhaps best known for her idiosyncratic studies relating to the skewed mating habits of Maltese tendrils. She describe herself as 'bubbly', 'prudent' and 'slightly scared of evil'. When not lecturing at Hackney Community College she likes to expand on her theory that the world is in fact flat, despite the availability of numerous volumes of work suggesting the contrary. A self-confessed collector of anything gray, she currently boasts one of Norwich's largest collections of concrete refuse. Dreams of having a pet ape called Francis, or Frank if it is a male.



Moonray Tiger Nielsen's biggest contribution to science is undoubtedly her investigative forays in to the highly contentious area of frustrated magnets. She has co-written several books on the subject in conjunction with a former sound engineer for Deep Purple who shall remain nameless at his own request.
Nielsen was also the first researcher to suggest that liquid is a colour, for which she received much rebuttal from her own community.
She bases her belief system on the assumption that rambunctious is simply another way of spelling Kansas (give or take a few letters - the flexibility of the system is according to herself one of the main attractions of the theory).
Was last seen bicycling somewhere near Epsom wearing a limited edition brown leotard with the word "FISK" emblazoned on the back whilst shouting 'Hoopla' in a sneering manner at stunned bystanders.

Frank 'Frank' Bax, editor of Shit Hot Science for Kids and notorious contributor to maverick trade magazine 'Concrete Quarterly, spends his spare time (of which he claims he has 'alot') dutifully observing the national holidays of all African nations except Mali. He drives a Volvo, has a fondness for Croatian soup and uses his ability to fly sparingly. "Life is like a boat".

Henk 'Henk' Uberville specialises in occult syllables and has travelled all over Norwich during his research. He likes gentle apes, Horlicks and being prodded in a suggestive manner with a broken compass. He continues to unsuccessfully petition against the use of leisurewear in the pickle-industry whilst maintaining that the earth is round, but “in a flat sort of way, much like a squashed orange except not orange and clearly without the peel”.


Ilse Christensen, or simply 'Pjalte' to her friends, prides herself on being a complex character.
When not busy trying to come to terms with the perplexities of bronze-age Finnish agricultural practices and the resulting decline in the use of the letter 'N', Pjalte likes to spend time with her pet sock 'Archimedes', and is an avid collector of books and magazines on gypsum-based spackle. "I just can't understand why people would even contemplate using any other materials. Unless of course you live somewhere where you can't get gypsum, in which case I suppose even I would have to compromise. Which by the way I won't".

When he is not busy re-inventing French beat poetry or watching reruns of Paraguayan wrestling (seasons 87-88),
Jens Erik Skovvang enjoys walks in nature, Italian food and the occasional bout of flagellation.
"I prefer turtleneck sweaters, - there's just something about them".