Fakenham News


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Fakenham Veganists Claim Antibiotic Use Is Genocide

‘Blast me they’re a rum lot,’ was the universal reaction of the good people of Fakenham to the veganists holding their annual conference in the Great Snoring Centre.  But then they winked and said that people with that much money to throw around were always welcome in West Norfolk.

The veganists had taken out full page adverts in the Fakenham Clarion as well as the esteemed West Norfolk Trumpet.  With lurid pictures they protested that one antibiotic pill could separate whole families of ultra sensitive bacteria.  The following day’s poster showed tragic pictures of lettuces when their neighbours had been uprooted and harvested by beastly an uncaring farmers.  ‘It may be a salad to you but it is my friend and neighbour.’

The pot of advertising money seemed bottomless.  For that kind of incentive, Fakenham TV was happy to run the  15 minute propaganda films ‘Breathing is butchery’ and ‘The Ploughshare massacre.’  The first showed the wicked destruction of micro-organisms that inevitably accompanied every human breath and the second was a poignant illustration of the tragic destruction of worms every time a field was cultivated.’

The good folk of Fakenham did not really support these causes, but they never complained.   The money which was lavished on such major advertisements trickled down through West Norfolk society, and when the time came for the veganists to leave and pursue their cause elsewhere they were given the traditional farewell greeting ‘Thass a load of old squit, but with spending like that, come you on back back any time you like.’

Gove Island

FTV, the Fakenham broadcasting company, was delighted to welcome Michael Gove with his proposal for a new television series.

‘It is going to be called ”Gove Island” and it is going to be all about me. It will be warm and sexy  and definitely for the over 18s.  The theme will be one of intimate friendships and what one person in a relationship can stick into the anatomy of another.  It will show me sticking it into my mate David Cameron, and then my mate Boris and in fact as the series goes on you will see that the Govemeister is ready to stick it into the back of anyone who gets in his way while at the same time being all humble and saying “I am not fit for your job.”

‘It will be a programme about nakedness.  Naked ambition and a man clothed in less charisma than…. well , a naked Michael Gove.’

And by now Michael was quite alone in the FTV boardroom as the commissioning editor and his staff were all throwing up in the street outside.

‘Hmmmm.  I think that went rather well,’ muttered Michael to himself. ‘Perhaps the time has come for a film about the favourite subject of the good people of Fakenham. “Gove Story?”  “Gove is a many splendid thing,” or perhaps “Gove makes the world go round?” ‘

Fakenews@the westnorfolktrumpet . norf

Duel in the sun

Theresa May and Wally Pratt, PETA’s representative for the Fakenham area eyeballed each other as High Noon approached in the High Street. The crowds were hushed in anticipation of the awful contest which was to follow.

Theresa was quick on the draw and started with. ‘My advisers told me to wear some really expensive leather trousers.  They looked entirely inappropriate but I wore them all the same.  Beat that if you can.’

There was an appreciative intake of breath from the crowd and then PETA’s Wally Pratt replied.  ‘PETA has run up court fees to bankrupt a photographer who let a gibbon take a selfie as the copyright clearly belonged to the animal, even though we cannot be really sure which gibbon it was.’

‘Ohhhhh that is really really silly,’ murmured the crowd, and the good folk of Fakenham then turned to see if Theresa could match it.

“I promised not to call an early election, and then I did, and after that I refused to engage in any discussion but followed the advice of my team and kept chuntering on about strong and stable leadership.  It was insanity but I still did it, so beat that if you can.’

An awful hush fell over the Town as the good people wondered if even PETA could match the hopeless foolishness of that, but no member of PETA is to be easily outdone in a silliness competition and so Wally Pratt drew himself up to his full height and said ‘PETA is taking legal action on behalf of a carp in a pond not far from here.  The carp is claiming ownership of the fisherman who caught it and of all his tackle as well as his car. It makes sense if you think about it.’

‘Wow,’ said the citizens of West Norfolk’s favourite town.  There is no way that poor Theresa will be able to compete with that.  But they underestimated her competitive grit.  She looked Wally Pratt straight in the eyes and said ‘But I put David Davies in charge of Brexit negotiations ….. and….”  Here Theresa gave a long and dramatic pause before concluding ‘And, I put Chris Grayling in charge of..’

Her words were drowned out as the burghers of Fakenham knew that  putting Chris Grayling in charge of anything was such a monstrously silly thing to do that it really did not matter what it was.  Wally Pratt clutched his heart and fell to the ground a beaten man and Theresa pirouetted to the podium to collect her prize flaunting those amazing trousers and her corblastme shoes.’


Nigel Farage does it again

Nigel’s visit to the headquarters of FUKUP, the Fakenham branch of his beloved party, proceeded in much the same way as all his previous visits.

10.01 Nigel arrives and resigns.

10.03 Nigel hints that he might not resign after all.

10.05. Nigel actually resigns.

10.07 Nigel decided to stand as leader.

10.09 Nigel declares all other possible candidates to be hopeless dimwits.

10.11 Nigel denies he was ever in the running to be leader again.

10.13 Nigel is elected leader.

10.15 Nigel resigns in a huff.

10.17 Nigel announces that without him as leader FUKUP  is a waste of space.

10.19 Nigel is back as a candidate to lead his party.

I am losing the will to live. Can’t we cut the next few hours? Editor

22.00 Nigel resigns as leader.

22.02 Nigel slams the new leadership candidates and announces that he might stand.

22.04 Nigel denies everything.

22.06. Nigel asserts that everything is true and always has been.

22. 08 Nigel stands as leader.

That’s more than enough. Can’t we have another story about that nice Mr Corbyn? He was much more fun. Editor


Jeremy Corbyn’s big day out

Jeremy Corbyn was thrilled to make his first trip to Fakenham and wondered why it had taken him so long. It truly was the land of opportunity.

His first visit was to Fakenham United Football Club where he intended to deliver a pep talk to the players.  He was received with politeness as they all thought that he might somebody’s granddad.  “What you need to know is that you don’t have to actually win to be a winner.  If you get beaten, but not as badly as everyone thought you might, then you can count yourself a winner.  Even if it is a knock out competition you should present yourself in the next round as ready to take over from the team that beat you.’  Jeremy  beamed at the players who seemed a bit perplexed.  ‘Ah, well.  Normal for Norfolk ,’ he thought and moved on to his next engagement.

The Great Snoring Festival was in full swing when Jeremy arrived.  He posed for the cameras by appearing to serve some drinks at the bar, or at least would have done had there been any cameras.  He carefully injected a bit of sweet disorder to his dress before making his way onto the main stage just as the Singing Postman tribute act was giving way to Fakenham’s favourite girl band, the Saucy Shrimps.  He grabbed the microphone and wooed the crowd with ‘We are many, but they are few.’  It didn’t have the same dramatic effect that it had enjoyed at Glastonbury and so he tried it the other way round with even deeper conviction.  ‘We are few, but they are many.’  The crowd started to grow even uglier and Jezzer was rescued by a kindly steward with the traditional greeting ‘Had a few too many shandies Grampa?  Away you go and sleep it off.’

All that day Jeremy wandered the streets of Fakenham looking for an appreciative audience to applaud and admire him for his ‘we are few or many’ or whatever, but the result was depressingly the same.  It was dark when he arrived at the last club still open.  He was made welcome and the people there laughed at his jokes and appreciated everything he said.  They even apologised for the way he and those like him had been treated in their manifesto.  JC was so impressed that in Fakenham a social club would have its own manifesto. They slipped a membership form into his pocket and sent him on his way with a pack of sandwiches for the return journey.

Jeremy never needed to consult his spin doctors or even take wise counsel from Diane Abbott to know that it would be best to remain forever silent about the day which culminated in him being welcomed with open arms by the Fakenham and District Conservative Club.




Terrible scenes at Fakenham tennis championships

Doctors were called in from all over the Fakenham District to attend distressed members of the public after a rain stoppage produced a display so sickening that strong men from Great Snoring and beyond were reduced to quivering wrecks.  No sooner had the players left the court than Sir Cliff Richard and his new best friend David Davis took over the umpire’s chair and microphone and sang to the crowd.


And humiliations

I admit my promises were pants.

Oh yes.


Oh Jean-Claude Juncker

You’ve really led us quite a dance.


Who could believe that I could determine

The sequencing

When every Pole and German


Me to settle finance first.


Jean-Claude my son

I’ll dress it up as if I’d really won.


And if that was not bad enough David Davis pushed poor Sir Cliff away and regaled the crowd with his own special version of the Sinatra classic ‘I did it their way.’

When at last the sun came out and the medics had done their work play was abandoned for the day for fear of any repetition.


Theresa May’s top advisers move to Fakenham

Crowds lined The Street of Fakenham, sometimes as much as two deep, to greet the celebrities who had decided to transfer their awesome skills to the task of helping Tony Blair, the self elected Mayor, to plan the strategy for his next election campaign.

Tony emerged from his afternoon nap to greet them, although he was not entirely sure what they might have to offer him as he was fully aware that his election winning days were long gone. And suddenly there they stood.  Nick Timothy and Fiona Hill, fresh from their triumphant efforts on behalf of Theresa May were offering their talents to the good people of Fakenham and their self appointed Mayor.  Just how lucky could the citizens of one small town be, having such a rich array of blessings.

Nick and Fiona did not need a microphone.  Instead the bellowed at the crowds, snarling and threatening anyone who might oppose the policies that they intended to impose on Fakenham.  The Trumpet’s intrepid Fakenham correspondent recorded their words in her notebook. ‘We are not here to make friends but to do a job, and we will judge our results on the number of our enemas*.’

And then Tony Nick and Fiona joined hands and entertained the crowd, which may have even amounted to eleven or twelve, to their special rendition of ‘Simply the Best.’

* Perhaps you mean enemies? Editor

No. Pretty sure it was enemas. Intrepid correspondent.



Prince William appointed President of Fakenham

Prince William stood before the Fakenham Town Council and allowed his equerry to brush a tear from his eyes.  He looked out at the twenty members who had made his dream come true.

‘I used to want to be a pilot but have come to understand that I need to be a politician.  My dear old Dad has had a sad life.  He has so much wisdom and experience to offer to working families, single mothers and small businesses, and yet he has been thwarted at every turn.  But he has pressed on, and because of the thousands of letters that he has written to MPs and Ministers, many of which have been opened, and some of which have even been read, the world is a safer and a kinder place.

‘But for a young man like myself this is not enough. And it is all so very unfair. To spread my own views to the families and businesses who are crying out for my guidance, I would need to go through the process of an election. That is so very wrong for a talented chap like myself. Did I need an election to become a Prince?  No of course I did not.  Did I need an election to become Duke of Cambridge? Never.  And so why should I have to be involved in a sordid competition to allow me to become involved politically?

‘ I am grateful to the good Burghers of Fakenham for electing me President, and so please do not take this personally when I tell you that I have decided to abolish the Council and to govern on hereditary lines rather than by the ballot box.  The motto for the Town of Fakenham is now “what Wills wants, Wills gets.” ‘

Before Fakenham’s new President could spell out his rather selective programme of reform Boris Johnson burst into the room ping pong bat in hand.  “I must warn you, Your Highness President. Even for those elected to the highest offices in the land there is plenty of scope for being sidelined and silenced. Damn poor show,  wiff waff,waff wiff.  But then like you, my day May come sooner than people might think.’


Making Fakenham Great Again

Donald Trump could not believe his eyes as his motorcade sped into the centre of Fakenham.  On either side of the road were throngs of people  out to greet him.  The love they bore him could be seen from the gifts they were carrying,  Aldi, Tesco, Primark and even John Lewis.

The Donald turned to Katrina Pearson his trusted adviser and source of all wisdom, and admired the necklace she had worn to emphasise her solidarity with the good people of West Norfolk, live twelve bore cartridges strung together with miniature handcuffs. She explained that Tesco and Primark were words in the local dialect conveying bottomless love and respect for blondely bouffant visitors and that John Lewis was the Town’s sheriff.

He climbed out of his limmo and started shaking hands with all those who had not been able to retreat.  “I thank you from the heart of my bottom for yewall turning out to see me and hearing my plans for making Fakenham great again.  This is really beautiful. Beautiful.’

‘Beautiful my arse,’ replied the good folk of Fakenham, as one in their outrage at having market day disturbed and also in mistaking USA’s finest for Boris Johnson.  Bugger of back home and never darken our doors again.’

“I think that went well,’ murmured Katrina to her boss.  ‘Yessiree, really beautiful’, he agreed.







Following his four goals against Leicester for Tottenham Harry Kane surprised his fans by announcing that he was leaving the club to attempt the ultimate challenge.  He gave a shy smile as he said that his current form was just too good for next season’s premier League and European Cup. ‘A player in his prime needs to pit himself against the finest in the world.  Real Madrid, Bayern Munich, Barcelona are all very well but are yesterday’s game.  The fixtures that really stir the blood of a true sporting man are the grudge matches between Fakenham and Swaffham as well as the mouth watering prospect of scoring away at Downham Market.’

Second Hand Skodas of Fakenham announced that they were sponsoring Harry for his first season with an offer of a Fabia no more than 10 years old.

Ernie Gurney manager of Fakenkam FC has told the West Norfolk Trumpet that he didn’t know much about his new signing and that a London boy could not expect to walk straight into the first  team.



Diane Abbott gives masterclass

The boys and girls of Fakenham Lower School year eight were thrilled to have distinguished statistician Diane Abbott as their new teacher.  She stood before them and started the lesson with great confidence.  ‘If a woman appoints 10,000 policemen and pays each of them fifty pounds  a year what will she have after four years?’

The class was silent and puzzled but the naughtiest and boldest girl, Christine, put her hand up and suggested that she would have a break down in law and order because the policemen could not live on fifty pounds a year.

Diane put on a smile of forced patience and continued.  ‘That is not what I said.  Listen carefully.  If a woman appoints two hundred and fifty thousand policemen and pays them from the money that has also been used a few times, but only on capital projects and so that isn’t expenditure but investment, then what will she have after four years?’

Once again the class fell silent until little Christine put up her hand. ‘ Please Miss, you are making my head hurt.  Are we appointing ten thousand policemen or two hundred and fifty thousand?’

By now Diane was really seething.  This was so unfair.  It was the seventh  lesson she had given and she was feeling really tired.  The little brat had no right to be telling those awful fibs.  ‘No Christine.  Please listen. I never said anything about two hundred and fifty thousand policemen.  That would be really silly.  Now pay attention and I will make this really easy.  If a man has three new nuclear submarines but no armaments and loses a third of his seats how many colleagues will remain to support him?’

And as the weary lesson wound its sad way onwards,  Christine continued to raise the questions that everyone wanted to ask but most preferred to keep their heads below the parapet and Diane continued to scold her for daring to question what she had said.  The bell went and the students filed out unimpressed with their new teacher and Diane thought how much better behaved pupils were in the private sector.



Tony Blair to be Mayor of Fakenham


Tony Blair stood on the balcony of the mayoral office in Station Road. He surveyed the good folk of Fakenham as they rushed past in the rain. Slowly and, scarcely looking at his reflection in the window, he raised his microphone to his lips and declared, ‘I am back’.  He gave one of those diffident little smiles that he reserved for the great moments in his career and declared “I am back.’

Nobody looked up.  Nobody paid any attention, but Tony did not mind.  he had declared himself Mayor of Fakenham and it felt so very good to be back.  he continued, ‘I am a pretty regular kind of a guy and , if you like, we can wage war on Iraq or even Ipswich.’

As dusk fell on the mean streets of Fakenham nobody had stopped to listen or to protest.

The Trumpet’s  brave reporter asked passers-by what they thought of their new self-appointed Mayor and the verdict was universally the single word ‘pants’.


Honesty and Transparency in Fakenham Election


The candidates for the 2017 election to Fakenham’s Town Council have collaborated in the production of a joint manifesto.

‘Things are in a bit of a mess and we are all responsible.  Long term problems need long term solutions and our previous habits of employing election strategists have made us focus on the things to get us re-elected rather than the good of Fakenham and its people. We have all played silly career games which have led us to meddle just to demonstrate activity for its own sake.  Councillors with no knowledge of their departments have been put in charge and as soon as they have actually got a grip, there have been reshuffles and another department head has been appointed who has to start all over again.  The party system has been a disaster for our electorate.  We all could see the financial crash coming, but none of us could admit it for fear of losing face.  We all knew we should at least occasionally balance the books but we all spent far more than we collected.  Despite doing exactly the same, one side of the Council called the other reckless and the other side retorted with charges of savage austerity.

For this election we admit that you are going to have to pay more tax, and we can make no promise other than to do our best for you as individuals.  we abandon our parties and their whips who have driven well intentioned councillors into becoming mere lobby feed.  So have a good look at us individually and vote for the ones that seem to have their hearts in the right place.  We will no longer insult your intelligence by issuing manifesto promises or sticking together in the political parties that have done so much to damage you all.’

Fakenham News @fakenews.norf

This is a disgrace.  Even in a fake news column nobody will believe guff like this. Editor




A thousand things to do with a dead uncle


North Korean leader Kim Jong-un had his audience at the Fakenham Family Centre in stitches as he regaled them with a hilarious account of his the surprise he sprang on his favourite uncle.  At times he was scarcely able to continue as he had to wipe tears of laughter from his chubby cheeks.  He described the way in which the old boy who had dangled him on his knee and told him stories as a child was invited to sit in a nice comfortable chair and help in a the survey ‘How clean are the barrels of my anti aircraft guns.’  Kim thought that the funniest thing of all was how his uncle’s last words were ‘It all looks pretty clear to me.’

When questioned by members of the audience Kim Jong-un reluctantly agreed that in the normal round of uncle killings a slightly smaller fire-arm might produce less collateral damage.

The good people of Fakenham gave Kim a standing ovation and pleaded for an encore in the form of a little song about  the day his half brother went to the airport.  Kim smiled his modest little smile and promised to come back in 2018.



Kim Kardashian Unplaced in Fakenham Bottom Contest


Bookies were confounded when the favourite Kim Kardashian failed to finish in the top three in Fakenham’s prestigious Best Bottom competition.

The judges were unanimous in awarding the title to 83 year old Bob Anthony, despite his protests that he was not entering the competition but merely answering an urgent call of nature.

The Chairman of the judging panel complimented Bob on the white scrawny look that he had cultivated in his exposed rear end.  The interesting swirls of grey hair against a background of explosive red spots were especially commended.

Ms Kardashian left Fakenham before the prizes were awarded but her spokesman confirmed that she would be go into training for the 2018 competition.  She would seek success by pursuing a strategy of marginal gains rather than top to bottom changes.

Fakenham’s mayor was reported as being happy with a local boy doing good.



Putin in Leg Amputation drama.


Patients attending Fakenham Hospital have reported seeing the Russian President arriving in Accident and Emergency and demanding the facilities to amputate his own leg.  Hospital managers consulted the rule book and informed the Soviet Supremo that if he wanted to cut above the knee then he would be charged as a private patient but that below the knee would be free on the West Norfolk Health Plan.

Witnesses to the act report that, through his translator, Putin declared ‘Then I cut it off exactly at the knee and get the best of both worlds.’  Facilities were made available to the visiting statesman and in no time at all he was hopping out of the hospital with the limb tucked under his arm.  He turned to the staff who had been present and told them ‘This is the way to run a health service.’

Our reporter at the scene interviewed other patients and were told that it was a disgrace that a man from outside West Norfolk should be allowed to come in like that and go straight to the head of the queue.



The 3rd Miliband Brother shock


The good people of Fakenham are still reeling from the surprise of discovering that a third Miliband brother has been living in their midst for over a year.  His identity came to light when postman Archie Wake noticed that letters he delivered to 3 Station Road were consistently addressed to Terry Miliband.  When he knocked on the door and asked the occupant if he really was Terry Miliband the recipient of all that post nodded and told him ‘You’ve got me banged to rights there mate.’

Neighbours had never suspected that Mr Miliband was in fact a Miliband and said that he had been a bit rum but no trouble really.


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william barr

@RichardWynne yo Richard W. what happened to Hank?

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william barr

What is the new word for a broken manifesto pledge? Clarification. That's the name of the game. Each generation play it the same.