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!