Play up, fellows! The Weekly: Maintaining Britain's Standards
HORROR HORTICULTURE
The Tripping, Scratching, Entangling Escape-inhibiting Bramble

The It's-not-a-tree Tree

The Bend Closer, Searing Poison Spray, Tiny Shooting Needles, Arrrrgh - My Eyes, My Eyes Flower

The Brendon? Is That You? Stop Fooling Around... I Mean It Now Bush

Vines
Professor Science - Britain's Voice Of Tomorrow
N.W. of Yorkshire asks Professor Science:
What manner of pets shall exist in Britain's Tomorrow?

We can expect today's domestic canine and fowl to be superseded by the advance of science. Radioactive gases, commonplace in Britain's Tomorrow, shall lead to the mutative creation of tame, cow-sized ants. These creatures shall live in vast networks of underground tunnels that shall honeycomb the countryside like a beehive built by ants. The giant formicidae shall be extremely sociable and tidy, removing litter and their fellows' corpses with swiftness. Britain's youth shall be delighted with these frisky, playful, colossal insects, which shall remain active and full of vim even though they be decapitated, which is the chief failing of cats. They shall also keep away most effectively from the family home burglars and predators alike, with their gigantic, crushing mandibles and bitter, unappealing taste.
K.R. of Chichester asks Professor Science:
How fast shall we travel in Britain's Tomorrow?

The main obstacle for science to overcome in order to increase the velocity of tomorrow's vehicles is the pace of the safety overseer with his red warning flag. Science shall prove equal to the task, creating a powerful wheeled-chair apparatus that the safety overseer's surgically foreshortened torso shall occupy. Thus freed from the bothersome limit of man's walking speed of four miles per hour, the vehicles of Britain's Tomorrow shall be improved upon until they reach such velocities as to render travel between points practically instantaneous. Naturally, science shall also have to augment the computational ability of pedestrians' brains so they can take note of the safety overseer's approach, but this shall require no more than a simple device which can be sewn into the brim of a hat or along the rib of a parasol.
T.T.T.T.W.T of Westward Ho! asks Professor Science:
How shall the science of medicine advance in Britain's Tomorrow?

Today's mastery of medical science, exemplified in such devices as the ether spray and almost wholly imperfection-free bone saw blade, may lead the inquisitive Briton to think that no possible advances are left to be made. The inquisitive Briton would be wrong. In Britain's Tomorrow we shall see the full complement of the nation's scienti-healers decamp from their surgery-rooms to a purpose-built laboratory upon a moors, therein to design and, by the assistance of Brunel, to construct the machine that shall end illness-disease. This machine shall stand over fifty feet in height and shall be powered by atoms, and he who is ill shall be brought before it by a system of movable belts. The machine shall by the action of electro-hydraulics direct an immense steel finger to point at he who is ill, and by means of amplified gramophone declare irresistibly, "Come along now, pull yourself together." Thus shall death itself be vanquished, and Empire prevail.

Professor Science assures that the wonders of Britain's Tomorrow shall occur within the lifetime of the reader.
EXCITEMENT FOR DOCTOR FILLING IN ROUTINE FORMS THROUGH DESCRIPTIVE INGENUITY
Exploding heart death

The breath-catching demon has struck again

It promised to be an ordinary day for this vimful, popular librarian as she half-skipped through the front door, late again, with her toast and coat mewing for attention. Little did she know that her beloved car would soon wrap her as a twisted scatter of pieces, for she was not the only one late that morning, and, round a corner ahead, bus driver 58 was striving to meet his schedule

Solve this riddle to find where I've hidden the Wallace and Gromit novelty radio alarm clock, before the formal identification at 3pm

Fall leaves hip in twain / Will none hear my foggy cries? / I suppose not then
<<<
advocate feature   archives   corner shop © the weekly science combine