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Afghan villagers, surrounded and under heavy fire from Taliban extremists, were delighted to hear the steady thrumb of a US Apache helicopter growing ever louder. The noise meant their desperate calls for help had been heard; that someone out there cared, and a heroic rescue mission was in place. The village chief hurried to the cellar of the one stone building, the safest place now that mortar shells were detonating and blasting shrapnel through huddles of women and children.


He dragged the sandbags aside to enter the dark cellar, calling to those gathered within to prepare Snoop for evacuation. Snoop heard his voice, his understanding of the situation evident as he beat the floor with his tail, ears pricked with joy. It had been a tough few days for Snoop; whatever he'd scavenged from the bins behind the school clearly hadn't agreed with him in a big way - first the retching, then the vomiting, and for the last two days some really evil smelling diarrhoea had left him feeling right off his usual dog biscuits and seriously reluctant to go on anything like his normal walks.


Obviously the whole village were desperately anxious as his motions stubbornly refused to normalise, and he even turned his nose up at some dilute Bovril. Tummy upsets like this became much harder to shake off once Labradors reached advanced years, like the 15-year-old Snoop.


Sturdy, brave tribesmen gathered, resolute and determined, to raise Snoop's dog crate on a stretcher and race through the falling heavy ordnance to the dusty clearing where the US chopper was screaming in to land. Barely had the landing skids touched the floor they sprinted out with Snoop and bundled his crate aboard into its hold (where, of course, people cannot go). Mere seconds after landing, it lifted off again, the rescue complete; the Afghan villagers all followed its path towards the horizon with tear stained eyes - though they knew that their chances of survival at the hands of the brutal Taliban warlords were negligible, at least Snoop would be in safe hands and that, of course, was the main thing.


Dominic Raab has denied that his current trip to discuss the Afghan refugee crisis is in fact a disguised holiday.

The Foreign Secretary was spotted downing pints and acting raucously at the airport before his flight to Qatar. He was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, flip-flops, a straw hat and sunglasses. It is said he only packed one suit for the entire trip.


Mr Raab told reporters that his kite surfing trip after meeting the Qatari government was “an importance piece of diplomacy”, but he couldn’t explain why it was.


The itinerary for the trip will see Mr Raab visit other major governments in the region which have “great beaches and/or hotels”, but it now emerges it also includes visits to the Bahamas, Ibiza, Amsterdam and other top holiday hot spots.


'I need to understand the role the night clubs in Ibiza, the beaches in the Bahamas and the cannabis cafés in Amsterdam can play in all this,' Mr Raab said. 'The fact Michael Gove is joining me in Ibiza doesn’t make it a "lad’s weekend away" at all and it is not to make up for cutting my other holiday short. It is a tough job but somebody has to do it.


'Now if you will excuse me as I am running late for my massage.'


photo: marucha @ Pixabay

Driven out by the Telly Ban, geriatric fundamentalists who 'Don't hold with them funny modern things like leccertricity and other sinister witchcraft', British armed forces were defeated after suffering many years catastrophic losses as servicemen were, for the most part, hideously bored to death.


Just months after the last occupying forces were slowly ferried ashore to the mainland, the Telly Ban swept - well, slowly ambled and shuffled - into power, and before long were filling post office queues (both of them) across the length and breadth of the island.


'We knew they wouldn't last' said one resident. 'They only been here since - when was it Mrs Taylor lost her cat? - can only be a few hundred years ago. Bringing complicated things like clocks, mysterious magic things like wireless sets and dangerous machines like bicycles. And their fancy ways, like educating girls, and boys, and even teaching them to read and write. We'll soon put a stop to all that nonsense.'


Hat-tip ArthurPyke


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