This is Lightly Used with Adam and Karen.
Hello, it's Adam. We recently wrapped up Johnny Turnip's story of the Necromancer,
so I thought another omnibus edition was in order. Full credit for all the journalism
we've featured in Lightly Used news goes to Tim Butters of the Abergavenny Chronicle.
You can find all the articles linked in the showblog at LightlyUsed.co.uk.
We pick up at the end of Johnny Turnip's last adventure defending the underworld beneath
Abergavenny... This is Turnip Tales 2: Electric Boar-galoo.
From the Abergavenny Chronicle by Tim Butters on Monday 22nd April 2024.
Man claims he has saved Abogavaini from a terrible development.
A Maerdy man claims he has put the Frighteners in a secret organisation who are threatening
the future of the town with a terrible development. They wanted to turn old Mother Aber into a
theme park for tourists and use that as a blueprint to take over the world. But me and
the boys put an end to that, explained semi-professional long distance runner Johnny Turnip.
This town ain't changing an hour watch.
Following his fantastical forays into the Abergavennyi tunnels, Turnip explained that alongside
his two friends he was captured by the Men in Beige when re-entering Aber through a manhole
in Cross Street.
About 12 men in beige suits fraud march us back to the castle and try to force us to
reveal the entrance to the tunnels because they knew if they harnessed the power of the
Faerie realms, nothing in this dimension could curb their evil intent, explained Turnip.
Unfortunately they didn't bank on Fast Eddie turning up.
Turnip revealed, just as all seemed lost and we were about to make our last stand to go
down fighting, he arrived on the scene like the cavalry. He was dressed like Clint Eastwood's
man with no name. Apparently he was in his way home from a Tarts and Vicars fancy dress
party but Fast Eddie likes to do things outside the box so he ain't dressed as a cowboy.
There was a bit of a ruckus going on and he jumped at the chance to get involved. You
could see the joy written all over his face when he saw some of his homeboys were being
messed around by a tribe of corporate types. Fast Eddie's only about 4 foot 10 but he can't
half have a row. In primary school we used to call him the Imp because he had a habit
of climbing to the roofs of buildings and jumping on teachers backs from the sky while
screaming like a little monkey.
Crazy days.
Turnip added, Fast Eddie's not a man to be messed with. Rumour has it that he once single
handedly took on Boomer Bill and the Bakewell Cake Squad and was the only man to leave the
wine bar standing. Boomer Bill and his boys may have been in their late 60s and plagued
with an abundance of hip and knee problems but when those salmon red trousers wearing
hooligans used to come at you swinging with golf clubs it was no joke.
Turnip added, anyhow when Fast Eddie came to a rescue he took a long drag of his cigar,
narrowed his eyes and rolled.
Is there a problem here fellas?
One of the men in beige looked at Fast Eddie like he'd just escaped from a travelling freak
show and snarled, Oh look everyone, it's a deranged munchkin who's wandered too far
from the yellow brick road.
...That's apparently how we learned to do voices last time.
Pinch your nose....
Big mistake.
Quick as a flash, Fast Eddie jumped up and headbutted the geezer. Big Tony roared like
he was back in the Ninian Park terraces and screamed, Let's have it! Before anyone knew
what was happening, six of our suited and booted opressors were on the pavement and
the remainder were looking at the slight cattle waiting for the cull.
As they fled, Big Tony shouted, Go on, get back to the ice cream van you fools, this
town and its tunnel are ours.
Their leader, Mr Citizen, turned around and shrieked, Enjoy the victory fools, the battle
is yours but the war is ours, our name is Legion and we are many.
I just stuck up my fingers as they left and said, Yeah right, the first bird to fly gets
all the arrows....
Not sure what I meant but it sounded good and it's important to say something philosophical
when you've bested your enemies.
Besides which, it had been a long day and none of us were thinking straight.
Turnip explained, they told Fast Eddie all about their quest to trap and tame a fairy
and how it had accidentally led them to Abergavenny's secret tunnel network.
Fast Eddie found it all very easy to believe, because he's got an open mind like us, explained
Turnip.
However, he was a bit upset at the thought of leaving Manny from the estate down there
as the watcher between the realms.
His first reaction was going to a violent rage and scream of something about getting
his shovel and pick to dig his old friend out.
He'd worked himself up into such a state that Big Tony had no choice but to pick him
up, put him in a bear hug and sing Wonderwall to him until he calmed down.
Turnip said, Fast Eddie soon grew to respect his old friend Manny's choice and said tearfully,
there is a bit like when Iron Man sacrificed himself to save the world.
What can I say?
Men say strange things when they're grieving.
He's not buried alive!
We even humoured him when he said that if we were like the Avengers, Big Tony would
be Thor, Puerto Rico Paul would be Hawkeye, I would be Captain America and he would be
the Hulk.
But after a while it seemed a bit childish and I snapped, for Christ's sake Eddie, grow
up!
We've just saved the fairy realms from a secret organisation!
We're no move to playing, let's pretend!
Turnip added, As we stood there, bruised and battered, watching the dawn break, our hearts
were heavy, our minds were broken, but our souls soared with the possibility and the
promise of a cold lager.
As we strutted back to our flat, our shadows are silhouetted by the rising sun.
We probably looked a bit like the Magnificent Seven, except there were only four of us.
Puerto Rico Paul slowly began chanting Underworld's 'Born Slippy', but not the girly bit, just
a segment where he sings, "Shouting Lager, Lager, Lager"!
And as we all sang, we held hands and skipped like newborn lambs into the greater known
together.
Are they finally going to get a beer?
Abergavenny Man's Wild Boar Hunt ends badly from Tim Butters at the Abergavenny Chronicle
on Monday the 29th of April 2024.
A wild boar.
An Abergavenny Man has urged people not to go on any wild boar hunts in the Forest
of Dean after he and his two friends were nearly eaten by a crazed pig creature.
Semi-professional, long distance runner, Johnny Turnip told the Chronicle that he
and a couple of mates had decided to go on an illegal hunting expedition in the forest
to get their heads straight.
After a couple of days, had left them questioning reality.
Turnip explained,
Me, Big Tony and Puerto Rico Paul had a bit of a loose end after adventures in the Abba
Gavaini tunnels.
In hindsight, we were probably overdue for some serious therapy, but we've all had our
head down brassied out mentality.
So Puerto Rico Paul went back to hawking his Simon Le Bon tribute act around the pubs and
clubs of Monmouthshire.
Big Tony went back to digging ditches and I returned to the job centre to pretend I'd
been actively seeking work instead of saving the world.
Except for a few blinding hangovers, and in Puerto Rico Paul's case the sudden onset
of a personality disorder, the lads began to quietly settle into domicis-
Sorry, I totally put you off there.
The lads began to quietly settle back into domicistasy.
Dom-a-wha-tasy?
Dom-a-stis-tis-ty.
Yet, according to Turnip, early last week, Big Tony announced to his friends he had to
get out of town in a hurry, under the fanciest spot of wild boar hunting in the Forest of
Dean.
Turnip explained,
It was a Monday evening, all of a sudden Big Tony screeched to a halt outside my flat in
his Bedford Rascal.
Me and Puerto Rico Paul were in day two of our Game of Thrones marathon, so when the
big man knocked on the door we pretended we weren't in.
Yet he was persistent, and had no choice but to carefully place my half-eaten pork
rib in a pint of lager and had let it marinate and open the door to my man cave.
Turnip explained that one look of the deathly pallor of his old mate and he knew something
was seriously wrong.
Big Tony just looked at me and said,
I need to get out of town and lay low for a while, JT.
I've messed up.
Turnip added,
It takes a lot to outrattle Big Tony.
He sort of strides through life like a colossus, indifferent and unconcerned to the carnage
he leaves in his wake.
So when he tells who he's messed up, you know it's wise to ask no questions.
I just bellowed at Puerto Rico Paul to pause the swords and sex action and invited Tone
In.
Turnip revealed that after Big Tony had downed a four-pack and eaten the best part of our
whole crispy duck, he asked his friends to accompany him to the forest for a few days
on a wild boar hunt.
Turnip said,
At first Puerto Rico Paul moaned he had tickets to the circus on the weekend and he wasn't
about to give up the thrills and spills of the big top to go and kill some pig.
However, I gave him a stern look and said,
Our friend needs this, Paul.
We need this.
This isn't the time for clowns and trapeze artists.
This is the time for men to be men.
Let's go bond in the woods and kill some animals.
Turnip added,
We were all soon shouting,
HELL YEAH, giving each other high fives and bear hugs.
But in all the excitement, we forgot that Big Tony wanted to leave ASAP and none of
us had any camping gear, equipment, or guns or beer.
Torn said,
Don't worry about that, fellas.
My van's loaded up with necessary, but trust me, we need to move fast.
The Welsh Water's already on their way to the site.
Oh God!
Puerto Rico Paul then mused,
Hang on a minute.
I thought you were in the middle of a groundworks job at Brecon Road.
How come you've finished so early?
Ask no questions and receive no fists to your face.
retorted Big Tony.
So we headed out of the flat and into the Rascal.
Turnip recalled,
They were speeding down the road to make it to the forest before nightfall,
Puerto Rico Paul began rummaging through Big Tony's CD collection.
It was mostly ACDC, but there was an awkward moment where he came across the greatest hits
of ABBA.
Waved it accusingly in Tony's face.
I thought you were going to say Rick Astley or something.
Torn turned a thunderous shade of crimson, but he kept his hands gripped on the wheel
and with his eyes on the road, he softly said with an unmistakable edge,
It belongs to the ex-misses.
Paul wasn't having any of that, but he began singing in high pitched voice,
"Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong...."
And before he could get any further,
Big Tony roared like a bear that's been prodded with a sharp stick.
Got Paul in a stranglehold and began to choke the life out of him.
I quickly grabbed the wheel and screamed,
For Christ's sake, will you two muppets behave?
Where do you think pigs have got throttled one another?
Eventually, Big Tony released his grip on Puerto Rico Paul,
He had gone a strange shade of blue and took the wheel back from me.
Knowing that a humble apology wasn't in either Big Tony or Puerto Rico Paul's toolkit,
I put ACDC's 'Back In Black' on.
And although they initially tried to fight the urge to rock out like a bad bitch,
By the time Brian Johnson was screeching,
"Cut loose from the noose!"
They had their arms...
Do it again!
They had their arms draped round one another's shoulders
and were head-banging furiously.
You'll have to play it back when you listen.
Wounds had been healed without any words needed to be said.
It was our way and a good omen.
Or so I thought, until I saw the white deer that made a sphere off the road
and crashed spectacularly into the woods.
Fuck!
From Tim Butters at the Abergavenny Chronicle,
from Tuesday the 7th of May, 2024.
Abergavenny men claims there is a necromancer living in the Forest of Dean.
Wow, that took a swift turn.
An Abergavenny man who went on an illegal wild boar hunt with pals in the Forest of Dean
claims there is a necromancer living in the woods.
That took a serious turn.
Semi-professional, long distance runner, Johnny Turnip explained,
We stumbled across a necromancer's lair after a white deer caused Big Tony to crash his
Bedford Rascal.
The ugly albino creature just stepped out of nowhere and stood in the middle of the road
just staring at us like we were the ones naked and running through the woods without any
purpose.
Now, while Big Tony's got the blood of a lot of furry things in his hands and has no
aversion to killing innocent animals, he's very particular when it comes to his vehicle.
The last thing he hunted was Bambi's brains all over the windscreen,
and so he swerved to avoid the dumb animal.
Turnip explained they missed the deer but left the road and clipped a tree stump which
caused the van to crash.
It was a bit like the A-Team, recalled Turnip.
The van went flying about 200 feet in the air and flipped a full 360.
Luckily, it landed against wheels and a sort of clearing.
However, whether in a panic or instinct, Big Tony pressed down on the accelerator and we
were flying along this forest trail for about 30 feet before I heard him scream,
Get ya, brakes knackered, jump boys, jump!
We opened the doors and bailed, but just before the Bedford Rascal smacked headfirst into
one of the biggest oak trees I've ever seen.
Fair play, the way we jumped from the van and rolled effortlessly on the ground must
have looked pretty spectacular.
It's not something any of us had to do since our early 20s, but we still got the old magic.
Any bystanders would have probably thought we were the SAS on manoeuvres, rather than
just former car thieves.
Turnip added, we impaired our eager puller a bit dazed from the old deal at first and
just laid in our backs looking at the darkening skies to say, what next you bastard?
However, we're not millennials and we don't do self pity.
We were soon pulling one another to our feet and wondering if Big Tony had packed plenty
of beer when we heard the wailing.
Turnip recalled, it still gives me goosebumps to think about it even now.
It was a primal cry of absolute grief that could turn a man's bowels to water.
Worse, it was coming from Big Tony.
He was on his knees next to his van with his head in his hands.
He just looked at us with tears in his eyes and said, he's gone boys.
It's the end of the road for saucy Lil.
I know how he feels.
I felt the same when I crashed my motorbike.
No, well it was news to either of us that Big Tony had given his van a name and it was
a female one at that.
We both knew the affection he had for his motor.
He was slightly perverted to my mind, but Tony's always been a bit on the spectrum
when it comes to his relationship with anything with wheels.
He was the same with his first BMX.
Anyhow, we may have made fun of his weird obsessions, but we respected Torn's grief.
And when Puerto Rico Paul whispered in my ear, perhaps we should do the right thing
and cremate the old bitch, I ignored it dark sarcasm.
It didn't come from a good place and right now Tony did time to mourn his loss.
Turnip explained that after a few hours being left alone with saucy Lil, Big Tony rejoined
his friends who were using the last of the power in their phones to play Wurdle.
He simply announced, Long may she ride, let's unload the old bird one last time and butcher
some boar.
Turnip said, they were his last words and his last love, and we didn't cry.
It was sad for us to see the old van bust up and mangled, but the forest of Dean was as
good a place as any for a vehicle to rust in eternity.
Hopefully it will one day become home for a family of ferrets.
Turnip told Chronicle that after unloading the two crates of lager, four bottles of whiskey,
six pouches of tobacco and ten cans of beans from the van, he was a bit concerned about
how they would survive the few nights in the forest.
I said to Turnip, is this going to be enough?
He just looked at me funny and said, what's your plan on drinking JT?
No, I said, I'm thinking more what we're going to eat.
We're going to chow down on some hog boss, he said in the weird American accent.
To which I replied, and how the hell are we going to hunt it?
Paul tapped me on the shoulder and just as I turned he pointed a shotgun at me and smiled
like a child on Christmas morning.
The game was on and the whiskey was in the jar.
Turnip added, we had the booze, the smokes and the gun needed for a successful pig hunt.
Admittedly, we didn't have any water, but there was bound to be a stream nearby.
The lack of a tent, sleeping bags and complete ignorance of exactly where we were could present
a few problems further down the line.
But we were masters of our destiny, born to woman but belonging to the wilderness.
Like a pack of coyotes and no tame dogs were stealing our bone.
We decided to set up camp for the night and get drunk.
Killing pigs could wait until dawn.
They tawny siphoned some petrol from the van and made a fire.
It nearly got out of hand, but after a few whiskeys we were joking about accidentally
burning the entire forest down.
We carried on drinking in the early hours and arguing about who would win the fight
between a crocodile and a bear.
Then the old man of the woods turned up and warned us all about the necromancer.
Oooh!
We return to the Abergavenny Chronicle and Tim Butters from Monday the 13th of May 2024.
An Abergavenny man who went on an illegal boar hunt in the forest of Dean claims that
he and his friends have stumbled across the secret that has evaded the greatest minds
in history.
The secret to eternal life.
It's all thanks to the necromancer the old man of the woods warned us about, explained
semi-professional long distance runner, Johnny Turnip.
As previously reported, after crashing their Bedford Rascal and ending up in an unknown
part of the forest, Turnip and his friends Big Tony and Puerto Rico Paul could have called
it quits, gone home and left the pigs in peace.
However, they're made of sterner stuff.
Instead of calling the AA, they decided to make a fire, drink some whisky and discuss
tactics for the next day's boar hunt.
Turnip told the Chronicle, it was about 3am and we were going to get some shut eye because
we wanted to be fresh for the next day's killing.
We're having one last dance to Waterfall by the Stone Roses, where an old man rocked
up out of nowhere and just stood by the campfire all mysterious and brooding.
He had his hoodie up so you couldn't properly see his face, but you could tell from his
bow legs and the way he held himself he was getting on a bit.
Turnip added, anyhow, the song finished, Big Tony's get-up last to fell silent, and he
just stood there for ages staring at us like he was Aragon from Lord of the Rings and we
were his hobbits.
Our trouble was, he was wearing shorts so we couldn't take him seriously and Puerto
Rico Paul said as much when he hollered, why are you wearing shorts dickhead?
The stranger realised at this point that silent hard man routine was making him look a bit
of a tool, so he just asked Paul, any of that whisky going spare friend?
We'd never been less sorted to lie anyone a drink in the early hours, even potential
psychopaths, and so we invited him to come and sit and drink the fire water with us.
As they talked and drank, Turnip revealed that the way the stranger spoke reminded him
a lot of Captain Barbossa from Pirates of the Caribbean movies.
His accent cracked us up, explained Turnip.
Big Tony's particularly tickled and kept calling him the West Country Hooligan.
Funny thing is, when we asked his real name, he said all seriously, it's Jenkins, Indiana
Jenkins.
Tony started choking on the whisky in hysterics, but the stranger shot him back the
sort of look that could have emptied a pub.
Tony eventually stopped hyperventilating, and asked the stranger, Indiana, like in Indiana
Jones?
He looked at us with the intensity of a proper nut job before screaming in rage.
Who do you think Spielberg based the character on?
Except compared with me, that Indy was less alpha male and more a big girl's blouse wearing
Nancy boy.
Probably mistaken our embarrassed silence for awe,.
Indy just cackled like a head guest on public transport before taunting, you blokes a bit
woke are you?
You're gonna cancel me.
You shocked by my choice of words.
To which Tony replied, it's your accent that we're struggling with, but.
He then gave Indy one of his meaningful looks and warned, now behave or I'll take that bottle
of whisky off you.
Turnip added, that did the trick.
Indy went all apologetic and said, sorry lads, I've spent too much time in this
here forest, and it's been a while since I've had anyone but wild pigs to converse
with.
The constant savagery and all that grunting and groaning in the night can make a man turn
a bit funny.
Civilized conversations eluded me for far too long.
But speak, tell me what brings you to the woods.
Turnip explained that they were there to escape the hardships of everyday life and hunt some
wild animals to death.
It was then he got particularly animated, explained Turnip.
As soon as he mentioned butchering pigs, he started shaking his head violently and muttering,
no, no, no, no, no, over and over again.
As a man who often judges other males and how much meat they can consume, Big Tony looked
at Indy scornfully and said, what's the matter with you?
You some sort of vegan or something.
The way Big Tony managed to make vegan sound like Nazi's quite impressive.
But Indy just ignored him and screamed, fools, no one can hunt pigs in hidden parts of the
forest of Dean without a necromancer's blessing.
To do so is to risk death or even worse, the seventh torment.
Turnip added, saying words like the necromancer or the seventh torment to us is like offering
a drunk and a diet a fat slice of cake.
We were chomping at the bit and eager to meet this Mr. Necromancer.
I said to Indy, look mate, we're here to cover ourselves in glory and pig blood.
We ain't returning to the Mardi until the war between man and beast has been won.
Where does this necromancer live and how do we get his blessing?
Indy just pointed south and said, three miles in that direction.
You can't miss his house.
It's called the lonely cottage.
Puerto Rico Paul found this hilarious and chuckled, what sort of nonsense name is that?
But to me, it had kind of ring to it.
If I was a wizard living in the woods, I'd probably call my log cabin something classy
any mysterious - like Avalon.
But each their own.
Turnip explained that as it was nearly dawn, they decided to skip sleep and set off there
and then.
He said, Indy led the way and sometimes I wish he never had, because when we met the
necromancer, he also learned the secret to eternal life.
And that's a hard load for any man to carry, even a semi-professional long distance runner.
Abergavenny Man claims he was spiked by a psychic called Steve.
From Tim Butters at the Abergavenny Chronicle on Monday the 27th of May.
I'm laughing already.
An Abergavenny Man, who just wanted to kill some pigs in the Forest of Dean, has alleged
that the illegal hunt went sideways after he and his friends had their whisky spiked
with acid by a psychic called Steve.
Originally, Indiana Jenkins told us Steve was a necromancer, explained semi-professional
long distance runner, Johnny Turnip, and that we needed his blessing to hunt wild boar or
risk the seventh torment.
Turnip added.
To be honest, we thought Indy was a clown, but we were a bunch of Welsh boys in English
Forest and, you know, funny they can get on that side of the border.
We decided not to upset the natives and get the boss wizard's blessing.
Turnip revealed that as they approached the magic man's lair, things began to go a little
pear shaped.
Suddenly, I began talking all flowery like some sort of perfumed ponce with just like
the bottle of opium, explained Turnip.
Big Tony had it worse.
He started barking like a dog and cocking his leg on nearby trees.
Meanwhile, Puerto Rico Paul began doing the river dance while reciting nursery rhymes
and Indy was busting aggressive yoga moves like a new age mum.
Turnip explained.
Maybe he'd warn us the necromancer had probably put some sort of weird spell on us as we approached
his cabin and his prediction proved right.
However, after downing half a bottle of whisky to counter the magician's influence, I had
that familiar feeling you get when a bad trip wears off and realised this was no spell,
it was the purple haze -
We'd been spiked, Turnip added.
I quickly worked out that Indy must have been in league with the necromancer and dropped
a few tabs into the bottle of whisky we shared the previous night.
Thing is, the dozy tarts had gone and spiked himself.
I suppose he had to for the scam to be plausible.
Anyhow, I now had this David Blaine wannabe's number and leaving the boys to their trip,
I knocked on the door of his cabin, ready to go to war.
It was going to prevail that when the necromancer finally appeared from behind a cloud of coloured
smoke and puffing on his vape, he instantly recognised him.
This was no magic or high priest of the dark arts, explained Turnip.
It was Steve the Psychic.
He's a run of spiritualist night down at the Maerdy village hall every Thursday before
he mysteriously disappeared like a thief in the night.
Some say he'd taken out one too many payday loans to fund his online gambling addiction
and needed to do a vanishing act.
But if he needed to lay low in a place no one ever goes, why not choose Telgarf?
Turnip explained that when Steve appeared he was still very much into his necromancer's
act and hadn't realised his ruse had been rumbled.
He added,
As the smoke cleared, I saw his weasel-like face smirk at Tone and Paul in Indy who were
valiantly fighting off the effects of their trip.
I simply gazed at him all cool and stony-faced like Michael Corleone in The Godfather and
I said,
I know it was you, Steve.
It was always you.
He just looked at me all haughty like he'd never done yarot card readings for a fiver in
a caravan at the steam rally and said,
Well, well, well, if it isn't Potato Bill, Portugal Polly and Little John.
I just tried not to laugh, stood my ground and replied,
You know our names, Steve.
It's Johnny Turnip, Puerto Rico Paul and Big Tony.
Turnip explained,
He just pulled this tired comical expression and snarled,
Because those names are a lot less comical, aren't they, my wandering anus?
I ignored his pathetic attempts at humour and warned him,
Laugh it up, dickhead.
When Tony stops thinking he's a dog, you're in a world of trouble, pal.
He's never liked you.
He may forgive you for telling his missus the spirit said he was a wrong 'un,
But when you spiked his drink, you crossed the Rubicon.
What are you doing, Steve?
What are you playing at?
As I talked, Big Tony began making his weird whimpering sounds like my old bitch Kipper
used to do every time there was a thunderstorm.
To make matters worse, Puerto Rico Paul moved on from the river dance and was hopping around
on one foot muttering,
If both feet touched the ground, the devil and his legions would claim him.
I shouted,
Will you two tarts cut it out?
Anyone have thought you'd never done shrooms before?
This is no spell.
It's the purple haze.
You're tripping.
This bastard spiked us.
I said while pointing theatrically at Steve the psychic,
Now get the whiskey from the bag and man up.
Turnip explained.
As the boys in Indy started necking the spirits and feeling better,
I turned to Steve and said,
I'll ask you again.
Why'd you put acid in our whiskey, dude?
It's a bit uncivilized, even for a necromancer.
This time around, the Sturm and Drang seemed to leave Steve completely.
He dropped his act and sighed,
Okay, lads.
He said,
You've got me.
I'm sorry it had to be this way.
But after consulting with the arch wizard Earl Elderflower about the prophecy of the
Three Unwise Men,
And confirming that Indy was indeed 500 years old,
I had no choice.
Men have been seeking the gift of immortality and eternal life since time began.
Then when I found the hapless three promised to end the curse were lost in the woods,
I knew the gift of ages was but a stone's throw away.
Turnip said,
I just looked at him and tried to think of something clever to say,
But all I could think of was,
Oh.
To be honest, I was dead on my feet.
Lack of sleep, booze and acid, and taking it all.
All I wanted was a pork pie and a place to rest my bones,
But once again I feared that somehow me and the boys were being called upon to save the
world.
For Lightly Used News we turn to Tim Butters in the Abergavenny Chronicle from Monday the
3rd of June.
Abergavenny Man warns that the Forest of Dean is home to an ancient creature.
An Abergavenny Man who was spiked with acid by a psychic called Steve while on an illegal
ball hunt has warned the Forest of Dean is cursed by a half pig half man creature.
That is, as old as the hills and as twice as mean.
Semi-professional long distance runner Johnny Turnip explained,
After being dosed by a fella we thought was necromancer, but in reality was a tarot card
reader and crystal ball caressor named Steve.
We and the boys confronted the predatory wizard to ask why he tried to blow our minds with
drugs.
Turnip added,
Big Tony in particular was livid.
Thanks to the LSD he'd spent the best part of two hours thinking he was a German shepherd
called Prince.
It's a tough blow for a proud man like Tony to take.
And from his stony silence I could deduce he was ready to gouge psychic Steve's eyes
out with a spoon and boil him.
Fortunately as a natural diplomat I managed to keep the frenzied violence at bay by appealing
to Tone's better nature and giving the necromancer a chance to explain his feral-like behaviour
before Big Tony battered him like a sausage.
Turnip told the Chronicle,
The magic man had hinted at some sort of prophecy involving three unwise men and a gift of immortality.
As a supernatural investigator I wanted to know more.
Turnip said,
That after they'd made themselves comfortable on the bean bags situated in psychic Steve's
well presented and orderly cabin,
the would-be necromancer explained that he and his psychic Indiana Jenkins spiked their
whiskey to prepare their minds for the unimaginable and impossible.
He'd eaten the bobblet, revealed Turnip.
It was a waste of acid.
As a supernatural investigator I've seen and done things that would make an average
man eat his own fingers like they were made out of fish.
Same rules apply to Big Tony and Puerto Rico Paul.
There's simply nothing we won't believe.
Turnip revealed that after being called down as a fraud at various séances he'd held
in the village around Monmouthshire,
Psychic Steve fled to the top of Skirrid Mountain to study high magic with a fabled wizard known
as Earl Elderflower.
Turnip said,
Apparently this elderflower is the real deal.
A proper necromancer, like Gandalf or something.
He travels all over the UK acting wise, casting spells and telling people the future.
But for three nights a year you can find him on top of the Skird in a tent.
That's probably why they call it the Holy Mountain.
Psychic Steve went up there one night to fry some sausages with him, or whatever wizards
do together.
He told Steve that the Forest of Dean is home to the world's only half pig, half man creature.
It's like a werewolf but less cool.
A sort of were-pig.
Elderflower referred to it as the Gruntarunt.
Sounds a bit Nazi for me.
I like Homo-Trotter better.
Anyhow, it turns out this man pig beast was once a local from a nearby village and his
name was Dean.
They're going back a good thousand years here mate.
But story goes, one day this young lad is wandering in the forest on his own looking
for mushrooms or whatever they did in the middle ages to pass the time when he was attacked
by a wild pig.
Dean was savage quite badly by the poor and most of his left leg and buttocks eaten away
as he tried to crawl for cover.
Nevertheless, he survived the attack and managed to find his way home to his village only to
die three hours later.
The operation ended there but a week after he was buried, Dean's grave was dug up and
his corpse has gone missing.
Pretty soon reports started coming thick and fast about a man who looked like a pig that
was attacking and eating villagers in the moonlight.
The villagers soon realised their friend Dean had transformed by some terrible curse into
a hellish hog who would happily drink the blood and feast on their flesh.
From then on, the expansive nameless woodland just outside the village became known as the
Forest of Dean.
Ha ha ha ha ha!
I didn't even see that coming!
Ha ha ha ha ha!
That's brilliant!
Ha ha ha ha ha!
Turn it that way, for years the people were familiar with the story, new to the forest.
No living creature would venture there except for the hordes of wild boars, many of which
were said to be sired by Dean in an unnatural union with an old sow he had fallen in love
with.
As time ticked on, memories faded, all people died and the stories of how the forest was
named became lost.
People began to once more wander into its dark depths.
For years the hobo Trotter has laid in a deep slumber because his terrible appetites could
not be assuaged.
But as living things once again began to venture into the forest, Dean slowly awoke and began
eating them.
Fortunately, he has lost his taste for human flesh, but he has developed an insatiable
appetite for sausage dogs, and many a dash hunt who has wandered from his own assigned
has met an untimely end in the forest.
Yet, the real reason Dean is now a source of interest to men who live and breathe magic
is not because he poses a threat to sausage dogs, but because he is an immortal and he
said that those who drink his blood will also be bequeathed with the gift of eternal life.
Turn it explained, we all got very interested at this point, particularly when psychic Steve
said that Elderflower had also told him about an old man of the forest named Indiana Jenkins
who had been bitten by the hobo Trotter and not only survived but thrived for the past
500 years.
The very same Indy who had helped psychic Steve spike our whiskey because according
to a prophecy long written down, we were the three unwise men who would help end the curse.
Turn it added, as me, Victoria and Pertorica Paul looked at each other slightly, we began
to slowly grin like three handsome devils.
We were back in business, the hunt was on and we in the boys were going to live forever.
That there be blood.
From the Abergavennyi Chronicle on the 10th of June 2024 from Tim Butters
Abergavenny Man warns people they seek eternal youth at their peril.
An Abergavenny Man has warned people not to chase rainbows or eternal life after he
was persuaded by a psychic called Steve to do some pretty outlandish things and a foolhardy
quest to live forever.
In hindsight, I can see we were blindsided by ambition and immortality to really question
what we were doing at the time, recalls semi-professional long distance runner Johnny Turnip.
But when you're lost in the forest and your mind is fried from sleep deprivation acid,
it's easy to think hunting pigs while naked is normal.
Coming back, I can see we'd been hoodwinked a little by psychic Steve.
I feel his intentions were good, but I think he'd been mixed up in necromancy for so long
and spent so much time in the company of cult leaders like Earl Elderflower that he didn't
know the difference between reality and fantasy anymore.
And as it turns out, his brand of crazy was quite contagious.
What began as an innocent, illegal wild boar hunt in the Forest of Dean became a little
more complicated for Turnip and his mates when they were spiked with acid by psychic
Steve and his supposedly 500 year old sidekick Indiana Jenkins.
Once the LSD had made their minds receptive to be moulded by those with dark intent, Psychic
Steve told them the story of the homo-trotter, who was like a werewolf, but a pig version
that had haunted the Forest of Dean for over a thousand years.
He claimed the blood of immortality ran through the supernatural boar's veins like the river
of the damned and all Turnip and his mates had to do was kill the homo-trotter, drink
its blood and they too would live forever.
It all sounded so plausible the way he told it, explained Turnip.
And when he said we had to hunt the crazed eternal pig creature naked by the light of
the moon or it would smell civilisation on us before we could get close, it sounded like
simple common sense.
Turnip recalled,
Once we discarded all our clothes, it was a bit embarrassing because we didn't know
where to look, but as soon as Puerto Rico Paul picked up a shotgun and screamed,
"HE WHO DARES!"
We felt like men again, and it was time for the killing to commence.
Turnip explained that with Psychic Steve and Indian Jenkins leading the way, the rest of
them brought up the rear.
It was night time by this point, so we'd forgotten we were all naked, explained Turnip.
We were just men in the wilderness, bonding over a shared love of hunting unsuspecting
animals.
The only difference is, this time we were in pursuit of immortality.
Turnip added,
At one point we thought we'd closed in on the homo-trotter and formed a circular and
a suspicious looking bush where we'd detected movement.
Puerto Rico Paul aimed and let the beast have both barrels.
As the smoke cleared and we investigated further, it turns out Paul had simply blown the head
off a poor rabbit.
You idiot!
Snarled Big Tony,
You've just alerted the whole forest we're here!
Before Paul could stick up his two fingers in reply,
Heard Psychic Steve scream,
He's coming!
Run you fools!
As we turned, we saw the biggest boar imaginable bearing down on us.
I kid you not, it had red demonic eyes and sort of fangs that could cut through steel.
There was no way we were taking this swine out of the game.
Eternal life would have to wait for another day.
We were trespassing in Lord Pig's kingdom and he wanted us gone.
Turnip told the Chronicle,
Thankfully Psychic Steve was standing in King Pig's path and he suffered the full brunt of
its savagery.
Tossed him up in the air like a rag doll and when he fell to earth you could tell by his
screams, he got really nasty towards the end.
If we thought we could have saved him we would, but Paul was out of ammo and I don't think
even Big Tony could have knocked out a wild pig with his blood up.
As we ran and the pig's hellish grunts mixed with Steve's dying howls filled our ears,
we felt terrible, mainly because we realised we were all still near kid.
Turnip explained that after five minutes of running they became aware of an almighty grunting
noise made not by one but an army of pigs who had emerged from the shadows and given
chase.
As if they left Psychic Steve to die.
Didn't have a choice in the matter.
Sounds like it.
It happened so quickly.
...your honour
Promise officer.
If you've ever been chased by a wild pig you'll know how terrifying and at the same time embarrassing
it is.
You can imagine what it felt like to have about 500 hungry porkers on your tail with
a scent of human flesh in the nostrils, which piggies were squealing with excitement and
looked like Turnip was on the menu.
Turnip added, just when it all seemed lost, Big Tony forced us to a standstill and bellowed,
"This ends here, I'm through running, if we die we die, but I swear I've yet to eat my
last bacon sandwich!"
Turnip said, as battle speeches go, it lacked a certain something.
It didn't inspire Indy for sure.
He said, "Sod this for a game of soldiers, I'm out of here".
And disappeared into the trees.
Yet, by acting the coward, he'd drawn our pigs off our tail, but headed after him and we
were left with a little breeding space to make our play and get the hell out of the
forest.
Turnip recalls, that naked and breathless of three friends just looked up at the night
skies and the stars that sparkled there, before erupting in laughter.
What else could we do?
said Turnip.
We were naked, with no weapons, booze or direction stone, but we were together, three chances
on the make.
The wilderness couldn't defeat us, the acid couldn't break us, and the pigs wouldn't
eat us.
We'd be getting away with it all our lives.
And when my old mate Tom Cruise turned up in his chopper, I knew for sure everything
would be alright.
To be continued.
That is one hell of an LSD trip.
We turn once again to the Abergavenny Chronicle from Tim Butters on Monday 17th June 2024.
Abergavenny man claims Tom Cruise saved him from being eaten alive by wild pigs.
An Abergavenny man has made the outlandish claim that Hollywood royalty Tom Cruise saved
him and his friends from being eaten alive by an army of wild pigs in the Forest of Dean.
Semi-professional, long distance runner, Johnny Turnip claims that after an illegal
boar hunt went wrong, the Top Gun star came to his rescue.
We were naked and alone, and had pretty much resigned ourselves to being ripped limb from
limb in an orgy of savagery.
Explained Turnip.
We were lost and exhausted, and it was only a matter of time before the hordes of hungry
trotters sniffed us out and made us their prey.
Turnip added, we heard the hooves thundering against the ground before we saw them.
There must have been about 500 of the porkers all headed our way.
Everything seemed hopeless, but just as Puerto Rico Paul began reciting the Lord's Prayer and
Big Tony began bellowing, beating his chest and preparing to go out in a blaze of glory,
the stampede of pigs was drowned out by the noise of helicopter blades.
Turnip explained that as they looked up, they saw a Black Hawk helicopter and the familiar
figure of Tom Cruise throwing down the rope ladder and shouting...
....Oh, I'm not doing the voices, sorry.
Forgot to say that at the start.
"Come on, JT!
Climb on up and get the hell out of Dodge!
You got some mean and hungry pigs in your tail, boys!"
Turnip told the Chronicle.
To give your readers a bit of context, it's only fair I explain that me and Tom go way
back.
I call him Tyke on behalf of his diminutive stature.
We first met in 2004 when Johnny Depp was filming scenes for the Libertine movie at
Tretower Court just outside of Crickhowell.
Tyke was suffering from the midlife crisis at the time and developed an unhealthy obsession
with Depp and used to follow him around the world.
He was in disguise when I met him in a local pub, but I recognised him and after a few
ails we became firm friends.
Over the years Tyke's often stayed with me for long weekends when he needs a steady dose
of realism to counter all the nonsense he has to deal with in La La Land.
I once nearly persuaded him to buy Maerdy FC but Ryan Reynolds did something similar in
Wrexham and ruined that idea.
Turnip added.
Anyhow, after a rescue, I later learned that he had made one of his surprise visits to
Abergavenny only to find me and the boys had gone AWOL.
He later called on Nanny 'Annie Horror Show' Turnip to find out where me and the boys were.
After she'd thrown a pint of rum and shrub over Tyke because she thought he was a cold
caller selling life insurance.
She told him we're probably dead in the Forest of Dean somewhere.
A lot of shows got a great sense of humour but he was lost on Tyke.
He took it quite literally and decided to charter a chopper to recover our bodies.
it's a good job he did.
We and the boys would have been eaten up by the pigs and spat out as fertiliser.
Turnip explained.
After they'd boarded the chopper, piloted by Cruise and a fellow called Cornelius Clyde,
they were given army jumpsuits to cover their nakedness.
They then told the Hollywood star the tale of white deer, LSD, psychics, necromancers,
immortality and mythological pig creatures.
Cruise just nodded his head solemnly and said,
"You fellas have seen some crazy shit.
Maybe one day it'll make a great movie but for now my job is to get you god damn heroes
back to civilisation."
Turnip recalled.
As we left the combat zone, Tyke issued us with these fantastic cigars to smoke.
But before we could light up and forget and maybe forgive the world and the demands it
made of us,
I heard Puerto Rico Paul scream.
"Look, down there!
It's Indiana Jenkins!
We've got to save him!"
Turnip added.
Below me there was a clearing in the forest.
And in this field we could see Indy bravely running for his life as the hundreds of pigs
chased him.
It was a bit like the scene in Platoon where Sergeant Elias's chase went fired at by NVA
troops.
How Indy had survived at this point I had no idea.
I screamed at Tyke.
"There's a man left behind.
Take the chopper down now!"
Tyke coolly replied in a no-nonsense military style.
"Roger that JT.
Blackhawk down."
And maneuver the chopper to a better angle to land before grinning cheekily and saying
"I'll take you right into the danger zone."
Meanwhile Big Tony had manned the helicopter's machine gun and with a cigar on his mouth
he began bellowing as he let rip into the pigs.
"Eat lead you motherless sons of bitches!"
Big Tone was like a man possessed but for every pig he felt five others would appear
on his place.
As the swine slowly called up with Indy the poor sod just fell to his knees, held his
arms skyward and a futile plea for help.
There was a terrible cacophony of squealing and grunting as Indy's final adventure came
to an end.
Puerto Rico screamed "Nooooo!"
And none of us could look as Indy was eaten alive by the pigs.
I just sighed.
"Abort Tyke.
Abort."
Turnip revealed that as Tom Cruise flew the helicopter back to Abergavenny the three friends
sat in silence as they tried to come to grips with the events of the last few days.
Turnip said We all just gazed moodily out of the chopper
like men who had seen some serious action tend to.
Puerto Rico Paul tried to give voice to our emotions when he solemnly quoted the main
guy in platoon and said "I think now looking back we do not fight the enemy we fought ourselves
and the enemy was in us.
The war is over for me now."
I could see Big Tony's nostrils flaring before he slapped Puerto Rico Paul around the head
and warned "Behave you pathetic ponce".
At the same time at a sudden moment of clarity I was no longer a semi-professional long distance
runner I was a semi-professional paranormal investigator and my true trials had yet to
begin.
Thank you very much to Tim Butters at the Abergavenny Chronicle for your coverage and
reporting Johnny Turnip's adventures.
Hello if you're listening!...Hopefully this is one of those forgiveness over permission
situations.
The show blog has a link to every article and you can find them compiled for this episode
at LightlyUsed.co.uk.
We are part of the Studio:Channel 84 network, visit channel84.co.uk, check out our fellow
network shows - there's The Variety Show, the Untitled Sci-Fi Show and Who Takes The Socks Off
with their spin-off series Socks - On or Off.
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Adam and Karen have been Lightly Used Visit lightlyused.co.uk for more email pod @ lightlyused.co.uk
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