Moon Experiment

We bribed a couple of dwarfs to do a little experiment for us on Unc's moonbase.

We got them to have a go distilling Black Tom to see what effects low gravity would have on the process.

Brilliant results! the strongest Black Tom ever!

Unfortunately those unreliable dwarfs decided to sample the product leading to a bit of an altercation over the festive period. I hope Unc does not get wind of this - we reckon there is a fortune to be made up there and soon the red flag will be flying over that celestial body - the crucible of a new order.

Long live the glorious revolution !

Oh Happy New Year!

Long Live the Revolution !...and a Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you all - Some of you wanted to hear the "Red Flag' from our caroling last night - so there you go.

There is nothing like a good revolutionary song. At Unc's party last night we sang one of our favourites.

Turn out your pockets and raise a little dough
For your good friend Hateman at the Tom Shop;
He makes you feel so happy he puts you in a glow
When you stand him a treat at the Tom Shop.

He will tell you of the battles he has fought for all of you
As you pour down flagons at The Tom Shop;
Don't listen to the idiots who say this ain't true
But join Beaver Hateman at the Tom Shop.

Tell him all your troubles. Get them off your chest
To sympathetic Hateman at the Tom Shop;
You pay the bill and let him do the rest
As you drink to Revolution at the Tom Shop.

Luckily, the old tyrant didn't hear us - otherwise there might have been fisticuffs. Which ain't nice at Christmas.

Cheers all - Long Live the Revolution!

My Christmas Card

Every Christmas I like to send out a card that inspires the people.

This year's one features the wooden-legged donkey following the star of the revolution (in a red sky, of course) as it guides him to the homes of the poor and down-trodden to deliver food that sustains their zeal for radical change within society.

Long live the revolution!!

Christmas Stamps

The Christmas Stamps are selling really well - keep on sending your cards and gifts to the Badfort Sorting Office!

We do wish that people would stopping sending Book tokens as gifts though. There ain't many big readers at Badfort and they are very difficult to sell on.

I love my fans!

Wow! I have my own fan group on Facebook!

A big cheer goes out to my posse!

Long Live the Revolution!

Down with Uncle!

Don't forget to buy the Badfort Christmas Stamps. All money goes to a good cause....a huge supply of Black Tom for Christmas!

Blackballed for Christmas

The Best Scam ever ! I got a job as Santa at Cheapman's Store and the rest of the gang got jobs as my elves!

The One-legged donkey made out he was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer !

Being on the spot we were able to snaffle all his bargains and sell them on with huge mark-ups. People still thought they were getting a bargain - and the best thing of all, it's all legal. They can't touch us for it!

Only thing is, Unc has got on his high horse about it and has sent out invites to his Christmas Eve Party to everyone except us. He says we have to give the dosh back or we are blackballed.

The thing is, his Christmas do is the best nosh up we have all year. Plus he always hands over loads of brilliant presents worth tons of money. Mind you he can afford to the way he fleeces the proletariat.

We will just have to bring pressure to bear to make him change his mind - he'll soon get sick of our pranks.

Holiday Snaps

So much for blackmailing the King of the Badgers with the information on the missing discs!

When we looked on the discs there were just folders named "Bill and Old Mankey's holiday" full of pictures of two dumb badgers playing golf and stuff!

I must admit that there was quite an amusing one of them in fancy dress taking the mickey out of the King and the Fat Tyrant!

Not a good day, though, we had to hand over all our loot from the fake pictures scam to get Jellytussle out of klink.

Motivational Speech

The gang needed a good talking to. They had utterly failed in the organisation of my prison break. The tunnel was a wash out. If it had not been for my fast thinking I would still be incarcerated.

We are supposed to be a dangerous revolutionary group who strike fear in the hearts of the establishment. We are supposed to be vicious and scary. We are supposed to rob the rich and give to the poor - well at least a percentage to them. Can't give em to much otherwise they would then be rich and we would have to rob it back off them.

Instead, everyone is laughing at us because that fat tyrant always seems to best us.

I told the gang that we needed a foolproof plan and if someone did not come up with something pronto the Black Tom was going to be rationed.

Hootman looked thoughtful. This better be good I told him.

Prison Break

The King of the Badgers imprisoned me on some trumped up charges. It happens to the best of us - Leon, Vlad, they all served their time.

I defiantly told the warder that I would not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered. I am not a number I am a free man and could they make breakfast 10 o'clock? because I get very irritable if I don't get a good nights sleep.

He was very obliging actually and I got a very nice cell with a lovely comfy chair and satellite telly.

I was quite sad to leave the place but as Hootman spent so much time on his ingenious plot to get me out I couldn't really disappoint him.

He came up with this marvelous plan to hide a map of the prison in an intricate tattoo on my belly. They have promised me it will wash off - so it looks like I will have to have my annual bath early.

It all worked perfectly until I walked into the Governors office instead of the laundry room where the entrance to the tunnel the gang had dug was supposed to be.

What I had forgotten was that by looking down at my belly I was looking at the map upside down. Luckily, Badgers are not too bright and I managed to convince the Governor I was a celebrity lookalike of myself who had got lost whilst on my way to the King of the Badgers party celebrating my capture.

He very kindly escorted me out of the prison - so I did not even have to scrabble my way through a horrible tunnel. This was just as well because they had got their directions all wrong and had ended up in the Guard dogs kennels. You should see the bite marks on Hitmouse's bottom.

Breaking the Bank at Las Vegas

Tried to persuade Diane Keaton to come and get hitched with me at Las Vegas. I showed her lots of pics of Badfort but she looked a bit aghast and started going on about how it was a filthy hovel - I have gone completely off her. She is just a bourgeois intellectual lacking in the moral fibre to suffer for the sake of the revolution.

Anyway we had a fab time in Vegas. I won first prize in an Elvis impersonator competition (after Hitmouse had nobbled the other contenders), then we used some of the skills we have learnt running our own Casino to fleece the gambling joints here.

Hitmouse knows just where to stick his skewers to make the slot machines pay out and then we used Hootman's special electronic box to win at roulette.

We had our plane standing by for a quick getaway - the mob don't take too kindly to being knocked over.

They better not try following us back to Badfort or they'll find out who's Boss.

Reds 2

Had a meeting in Hollywood, yesterday, with Warren Beatty. He wants to do a sequel to Reds about me and my struggle against the Tyrant of Homeward.

It will be a story of a revolutionary with dark brooding good looks (me), and the beautiful, but zany girl, who falls hopelessly in love with him (played by Diane Keaton).

When she saw me, Diane said that she would have to draw on all her acting skills to make the story believable. I know what she means - how could they find an actor as charismatic as me?

Luckily, they have found someone who has an astonishing resemblance to me to play my role.



After the meeting we decided to celebrate with a few tins of Black Tom up in the hills. We did a spot of carpentry while we were up there - tee hee!

Doctor Hateman

Tee Hee! - Blagged me way into the tyrant's sickbed pretending to be a doctor!

I put on a funny accent and spectacles and he never twigged.

Dosed him up on Gleamhound's Cold Cure - what we all know works backwards!

Ha, Revenge is sweet!

Find the Lady

We had a wizz idea yesterday. We decided to go to the observation roof at the Rockefeller Centre, and see if we could raise some funds from some greedy rich people.

They can never resist 'Find the Lady' or as it is otherwise known - the three-card Monte.

This is a classic short con in which the outside man pretends to conspire with the mark to cheat the inside man, while in fact conspiring with the inside man to cheat the mark.

We also hit on the idea of dressing up as the tyrant and his sidekick so he would have to take the heat.

All was going well until one of the punter's was a bit too sharp and picked the Queen - Hitmouse tried a Mexican turnover to exchange it with another card but he fumbled it and we was rumbled.

We made a dash for it - and who do you think we bumped into on the stairs - the arch boaster himself!

Like to see how he talked his way out of that one!

Busking

We had a meeting with our New York fashion chums today and they really loved our sackcloth fashion ideas. They think that our revolution chic is 'to die for'.

So we decided to have a bit of a celebration with a couple of jars of Black Tom.

There were a load of people hanging around the Waldorf Astoria because Uncle is showing off this evening and has invited around a load of film stars and the gliteratti. He can never resist hob-nobbing with the rich and famous.

So we decided to entertain the crowds with a few renditions of 'The Village Tyrant".
They loved it!

Gotta see the whole town

I don't think this place is all it's cracked up to be. We decided we had to see the whole place just to see the extent that capitalism has failed the citizens of this town.

For a start they are all jammed into tin cans and made to travel underground. The proletariat mercilessly forced to endure inhumane conditions so that the fat cats of Wall Street can exploit their labour.

We had a great time at the Statue of Liberty, though. We spotted the Tyrant of Homeward and his sycophantic groupies wandering around below. We had brought custard pies for our lunch but decided to donate them to the cause. I got Uncle right on the bonce. Tee Hee!

Autumn in New York - is so cold

Things have gone a bit pear-shaped.

I am posting this from my laptop in a tent in Central Park. I have a bit of a hangover and Hitmouse is snoring very loudly. It's giving me a headache.

That was some party last night. At some point last night I remember getting into an argument with the President. He was very keen on any advice I could give him.

He said he was going to try to see if he could remember as much as he could to make it sound like he was smart on the subject of economics.

He seemed very keen on my idea of lending more money to poor people but looked aghast when I said that they should not have to bother paying it back. His eyes started to glaze over almost immediately when I began a discourse on the fact that social development springs from the inherent contradictions within material life and the social superstructure and that the property class had essentially accomplished the establishment of a new societal and economic order, instinctively creating a society protective of their capitalist interests.

When I started arguing that the potential of humans can only be fulfilled in collective freedom after the Communist revolution has removed capitalism's constraints and subjugations of humanity he started to look quite cross and accused me of being a damn commie.He said he was not going to pay for reds to sleep in the best beds in the Waldorf Astoria and had us thrown out.

It must have been something I said.

Penthouse Party !

Comrade Bush has really sorted out a nice pad for our stay !

For some reason one room was just full of bananas! These yanks have some weird ideas about hospitality.

We were just settling down with a few crates of Black Tom, when a load of people started turning up expecting some sort of do.

We have made loads of new friends - Elton, Brad, Angelina. Apparently, they all turned up thinking they were coming for a boring evening in with Uncle. Must have got the wrong address.

Anyway, we are showing them how to really party!- better than sitting around the fire drinking buckets of cocoa and having to listen to that tedious old tyrant droning on about how brilliant he is.

Hitmouse has just run in with an early edition of "The New York Times" with yours truly on the cover! - some guff about 'Uncle' in it too. Good job I wore the sunglasses - otherwise he might recognise me and shop us.

New York Welcome

There was a bit of a fracas when we arrived at JFK airport. As we were going through Security a load of bells started ringing and red lights flashing. It was like some kind of disco. Apparently you are not allowed to bring skewers with you on holiday. We decided to leg it but were chased by some burly blokes in uniforms. Crikey.

Hitmouse ran straight into this sad old geezer in a suit. We got chatting, and it turns out he was feeling a bit forlorn because Uncle had stood him up. We gave him a bit of the old blarney and told him we were famous economics experts on a mission to help his fair country out of its present difficulties. Anyway he was very keen to have his picture taken with us - and was interested to hear our economic theories.

Already we have made a new comrade on our trip.

Flying to New York !

Hootman has sorted me out with my own blog. He thought it was about time that we did something about the pernicious propaganda being dispersed over the interweb by the Dictator of Homeward - Uncle.

On this blog we intend to refute his despicable lies about the Badfort Revolutionary Front and to give you all the latest on our plans to overthrow the bully who despoils the lives of the proletariat.

First, Fantastic News! - we are off to New York to wreak havoc on the premier capitalist country known as the United States. The coffers of the fighting fund have been getting a bit low. Luckily, Hootman spotted the latest fashion trend - protest chic.

We have come up with our own designs based on our usual attire - sackcloth. The design houses of New York have gone ecstatic over them. They say the heavy knits and bold patterns reflect the tough emotions of street life. Whatever. Hootman reckons we can blag a fortune out of them.

The only downside of our trip is that the fat controller seems to have followed us. We caught sight of him as we approached the city - him and his cronies obviously intend to try and sabotage our mission. We tried to scare him off by buzzing his helicopter - and I threw a duck bomb but sadly missed. Drat!