The Mascot Nightmares Begin

MILLIONS of children are waking up this morning drenched in sweat and urine following the unveiling of the London 2012 Olympic mascots.

Wenlock and Mandeville were greeted with a chorus of blood-curdling screams as onlookers trampled each other in a desperate bid to escape.

Meanwhile London mayor Boris Johnson insisted the mascots encapsulated the spirit of the city before kneeling down in front of them and begging for his life.

Emma Bishop, a mother of two from Finsbury Park, said: “The names sound like a pair of prostitute-murdering opium addicts from the 1880s and they look like the Tellytubbies’ abusive uncles.

“What we’ve got here is two giant, damaged teeth, each with a massive, psychotic eye and razor sharp claws. And the blue one seems to be using bright, friendly colours to draw attention to his genital area.

“So these things – designed specifically for children – are basically lobster-clawed pervert monsters that remind them of the dentist. Bravo.”

Helen Archer, a mother of three from Hatfield, said: “So the next time my five year-old loses a tooth and I tell him to put it under his pillow for the tooth fairy he will scream in terror and tell me it will grow into Wenlock and eat his head like it was a Malteser.

“I honestly can’t believe I’m saying this, but Adrian Chiles is no longer the most disturbing thing to appear on The One Show.”

Cowering behind the television with a jumper over his head, Archer’s seven year-old son Jake added: “Leave me be Mr Mandeville. I’ll be a good boy, I promise I will.”

The mascots were developed by the sinisterly-named children’s author Michael Morpurgo who conducted focus groups across the country to boil down childhood terror to its elemental form.

He said: “We initially thought of using those silent, floating zombies from Buffy The Vampire Slayer but Wenlock and Mandeville have the added bonus of looking like they could suddenly appear inside a pencil case or at the bottom of a Happy Meal.”

 

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Your Astrological Week Ahead With...

 

Psychic Bob

Taurus (April 20-May 20)
The book you’re currently reading is a sensitive and subtle portrayal of a young man’s loss of innocence in the pre-industrial Midlands and as such is not a patch on Andy McNab’s Towel-head Armageddon.

Gemini (21 MAY-20 JUN)
Swimming with dolphins suffused you with great inner peace and contentment. And don’t worry, dolphins really like being molested.

Cancer (21 JUN-22 JUL)
Why not try and tenuously link your wretched product to the forthcoming World Cup in a bid to increase sales? Call it ‘Three Lions’ rim-block, or something.

Leo (23 JUL-22 AUG)
In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking, now, heaven knows, some people will do it for a pork pie.

Virgo (23 AUG-22 SEP)
A train leaves Birmingham toward London at 2pm doing 100 miles an hour. A plane leaves Glasgow toward London at 11am doing 400 miles an hour. A car starts driving from Liverpool down the M6 at 9am doing 60 miles an hour toward London. Which journey will get the most fucked up by this shithole of a country’s appalling infrastructure?

Libra (23 SEP-23 OCT)
This week you arrive at an isolated motel where the lone employee appears to be having conversations with his imaginary mother and is spying on you through a peephole. To make matters worse, Lenny Henry appears to be in the room next to yours. Either that or somebody else is shouting ‘Katanga!’ all night.

Scorpio (24 OCT-21 NOV)
Your perfect man might be Captain Scarlet, but that is no reason to submit potential boyfriends to tests of indestructibility. Too many have already died and death is rarely a good start to a long-lasting relationship. Although the rigor mortis could come in handy.

Sagittarius (22 NOV-21 DEC)
With your continued absence from work coinciding with a 30% increase in profits, the head of HR asks if you’ve ever thought about driving your car into a canal.

Capricorn (22 DEC-19 JAN)
A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, but it can make suppositories a bit gritty.

Aquarius (20 JAN-19 FEB)
Why not bring some laughter to the workplace by rearranging all the buttons on a colleague’s keyboard and convince them they’ve somehow become chronically dyslexic overnight?

Pisces (20 FEB-20 MAR)
I don’t know how to tell you this, but I hate you. Okay, I did know how to tell you this.

Aries (21 MAR-19 APR)
The erectile dysfunction clinic may have advised you to masturbate as often as possible but I’m not sure the woman next to you on the bus enjoyed it as much as you did. If at all.