Poetic Licence
THE nation was shocked to wake up to the news earlier this week that Mrs Melita Norwood, an 87-year-old great-grandmother from Bexleyheath, spied for the KGB for over 40 years. The Briefing Of Agent 0077
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Right 0077. This is "The Clacton".
A standard enough looking shopping trolley
But if you get into a scrape at a Bring'n'Buy
sale, the spike on this one can fire a lethal
cyanide pellet. It might just save your life.
Looks like an ordinary crocheted Victorian
toilet-roll cosy doesn't it? The receiver
actually allows you to eavesdrop on up to
six conversations at once. Even outside
of the Daycare Centre. Oh, and this
hearing-aid translates Russian into English.
...modified from a standard Shopmobility
Vehicle to reach 0-60 mph in 5.2 seconds.
The safety bars convert to an A10-type
tankbuster cannon, capable of taking out
a Variety Club Sunshine Coach.
...Should our KGB friend attempt
to escape in one, of course.
...and although the flask dispenses
ordinary Ovaltine into your cup,
a touch of the concealed button
on the handle here will dose Red Doris
with enough "Sedgemoor" to knock her out
- while you go through her handbag.
Survival rations: Sockeye salmon,
Creamline toffees, Marrowfat peas.
"Bronco" toilet paper (you can't be doing
with that soft modern stuff). Corn plasters,
an elastic bandage. Oh... and Gala pie.
You do like Gala pie, don't you?
The mantle-clock contains an extremely
powerful transmitter. Bounces its signal
off our own satellite and back to Whitehall
from as far away as Worthing British Legion.
On the hour it chimes: "I can't manage
these new 5p coins," then it plays a Gracie
Fields song. Nice little touch, isn't it?
Ah, the fleece-lined, zip-up ankle boots?
I was coming to those...
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments