Write The Archers One Line At A Time

[PseudoBadger]

Do it like the professionals do it

Toby: I heard that that Helen woman bludgeoned him half to death with a wheel of cheese?

Bert: Well nice of you to say Professor Lloyd but oi think you'll find my Freda preferred to call it the bungalow....

Jim: Well it seems I'm on my own again so..............tempus est enum stratum....

Jennifer: ...so, you see, Inspector, it all adds up. The herbal remedies. Her estranged husband. He remembered me in his will, you know. How we both loved poetry...I would have loved the chance to study it properly, but in those days, well... Anyway, first it was John Tregorran. Then Bert Fry started helping out with her garden, and I'm sure it was all perfectly innocent on his part, but before long poor Freda...well... The whole village misses her lively ways. And then there was Heather, and the timing seemed terribly convenient...
I don't have any proof of course, but I do think you should look into it.

Bert (shaking head): Oooowrr, that Lynda and er garden, resurgam or whatever she calls it. Now the prof too. Terrible trend for speaking Latin in gardens she's started. I mean, ow's us country folk meant to keep up? Trying to exclude us from tending our own land they are. That's what they're doing, you mark my words. [Wanders off, muttering] fieri sentio et excrucior, my Freda would be turning in her grave she would...

Those avoiding the other thread because of grimness might want to have a quick peek because people are writing suitable Hallmark verses for Peggy's card to Rob, and they are very funny.

Jill: ah coooeeee Bert. I have brought you some seed cake. The roses really are looking lovely. Coo. Coo.
It's amazing how everything has recovered isn't it. Almost as if last year never happened.

Bert: Moi Freeder hant recovered though as she?

Jill: no Bert. Coo. Coo. I suppose not. Here have some more cake.

I'm impressed Bert knows Catullus!

Bert: Well, oi am the village poet, of course I have a good grounding in the literature of Western Europe. And of course, moi Freda liked to speak in dead languages a lot, it's why she was so quiet, realised the folk of Ambridge didn't appreciate it, she did.

swirling ha ha. Now we know.

Bert: well oi sez the folk of Ambridge didn't appreciate it - they didn't, until that Professor showed up. Him and moi Freda had a bit too much in common, if you understand moi meaning. Everyone thought at the toime that her drowning was an unfortunate accident and believed my simple, grieving yokel act but now those detectives have turned up and moight start asking questions. Oi did troi to lay the blame for the flood on that Titchener fellow - even bribed Stefan to spread lies - but nobody took the bait. Now he's in a coma and can't speak up for hisself, I moight start the rumours again.

MrsArthur can I have a prize for including some actual Latin in Jim's part?

Vango no, that was just blatant showing off

Carol: hmmm. There's Bert out talking to himself again. There's something not quite right there. And I don't think it's just Freda dying. There's more to it wouldn't you say Jennifer? And of course I should know.

Jwnnifer: sorry, Carol, what's that?.I was miles away....thinking about Oxford as it happens. Oxfird. Where Phoebe will be going.

Carol: sigh. I was saying Bert's up to something. That's why I got him to do the garden so I could keep an eye on him.

More tea?

Bert: you'll never believe what I just dug up in your garden missus Tregorran!

Will: Cheers Kenton. Just a half of shires for me, a small white wine for Nic, and three lemonades for Jake, Mia and Poppy please. We'll be outside.....again.

Kenton: Poppy? Is that a friend of Mia's? Oh, really, You have another child! Well, must be something about Home Farm, did you hear Alice and Chris have triplets?

Will: No Kenton, this is my youngest, though I know we've not been round the village much lately. I don't like to encourage Nic to do too much, what with all the kids 'n all. And I'm not sure that hangin' round with some of the other women round 'ere were doin' 'er much good neither! Rob was always good for that kind of advice, poor bloke....

Graham Harvey: Sean, Tim.....sorry to interrupt. I wondered if you wanted me to talk through the Spring farming calendar.....or should I just put that to one side for now....sorry....sorry..... I can see you're busy....

SOC: Graham, Graham, no need to scurry away! I'm not a monster! Now, I know you used to do all that farming year stuff, but honestly, you've got me now, we don't need all that do we, eh? We're fine, you, me, the little broom cupboard, and young Tim and Keri and the others, that's all we need. And, well, I hardly like to say this, Graham, and you know I think you're brilliant, but as far as cool farms go, you were hardly Michael Eavis were you? [Little evil laugh]. Good boy.

cheminotte. What? What did he dig up?

I care more about this than the actual Archers. (Not listened today).

Haha smalllegs no idea, maybe some bones?, that was for the next person to decide! I thought we were playing this like they do on Sorry I haven't a clue?

SOC: Right, listen up acolytes (and would someone please blow out those candles on my desk…..the researchers are telling me that the listeners are starting to go off the boil so we’re going to have to change the direction…..social media is the name of the game as I keep telling you…..apparently there’s some kind of poetry mockery stuff going down…..well we’re not going to let them think they can run this show so I’ve got a few little lines of my own up my sleeve.

Get that continuity announcer in here NOW. Forget the helpline. Next week, you say this

There was a young scoundrel called Rob
Regarded by most as a snob
He frightened his wife
Who came with a knife

So take heed and think before you act ladies and gents!

Then do the bit about the number….yadda yadda…...GOT THAT?!

We are cheminotte but I thought you had somethimg in mind it was auch a good cliff hanger. Abd then no one took it up.

So I shall. Shortly

Bert: So what do you think that is Mrs Tregorrrran? Looks like a jar of pickles or me but the wroiting all in Polish or summat loik that. Who'd have thought it eh buried clutching it is his hand like that. I wonders who it moight be. I suppose we best call the police don't you think Mrs Tregorrrrran.

*jar of pickles to me

Carol: Good idea Bert. Sit down. You've had a shock. Let me give Harrison a call. I believe he's round at Emma's doing some door to door investigations into some missing bunting....