Chapter 1: With Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
‘Twas an hour before deadline, and at every desk
The PCs were off, it was simply grotesque
Gnome junior was pacing the floor of the place
As AWOL was veteran writer Phil Space
Acres of white still were bare on the pages
That by now should be heaving with stories outrageous
And satire, and phonies, and witty transcriptions,
And readers in outrage withdrawing subscriptions
Where was Thribb? Where was Slagg? Where was sodding Craig Brown,
That’s a page a photo they also were down
Celeb and the Yobs and Dave Snooty weren’t there
And Gnome junior was pulling the last of his hair
Chapter 2: Number Crunching
Amount paid to victims of Gnome International Dustbin Raiding Scandal following Leveson enquiry - £5.2 million
Payoffs to editors “let go” or now otherwise employed by Gnome International as a result of Gnome International Dustbin Raiding Scandal - £1.1 million
Cost of Private Eye staff and contributors Annual Christmas party (cancelled due to budget cuts)
- 2 x Iceland prawn and sauce party rings - £5
- 2 x Iceland party pack 50 “sausage” rolls - £5
- Six pack Frazzles - £1.50
- Six pack Nice N Spicy Nik Naks - £1.25
- 1 block cheddar cheese and a pineapple (for the vegetarians) - £4.50
- 30 bottles Tesco “Everyday Value” gin - £299.00
- Venue hire – nil – use editor’s office as usual
- Extra twenty to Sally the cleaner
- Total - £336.25
Chapter 3: From the Editor's Desk
6 Carlisle Street
Lord Aristides P Gnome
Tax Haven Towers
3rd Gherkin from the left
Dear Lord Gnome,
It has been my honour and privilege to serve as editor of this esteemed organ, boy and man.
Private Eye has, for its entire history, been a champion of truth, justice, and defending “the little man.” However this is clearly incongruous for a magazine owned by the man at the centre of the greatest scandal to hit UK journalism in a century.
I could, perhaps, have overlooked the reporting of drug paraphernalia in the bins of Gary Bloke as moderately in the public interest given his recent appointment as Drugs Tzar to the House of Commons (a title somewhat open to interpretation, I am sure you will agree), but there was simply no need to disclose HRH Princess Kate’s pregnancy related cravings for Pot Noodles and preference for Sainsbury’s value digestives over Duchy Originals.
Given my recent success as TV wit and raconteur, hapless but charming presenter on all things jolly British, and my recent book deal with Snipcock and Tweed (“Unreliable Memories of a Spud Headed Man”), I am in the fortunate position of being able to tell you to refer to the reply in Arkell versus Pressdram (1971).
The cancellation of the staff party when it is "trebles all round" at Gnome Towers following this year's bank-busting profits at Gnome-Mart is, of course, the last straw.
With all due respect,
Formerly known as “Ed.”
Chapter 4: Private Eye (in memoriam)
Farewell, Private Eye
A half century of being sued is at an end
Replacing “Ruck” with “Fuck.”
That was your best joke.
It was a bit childish
When you think about it really
Like nob gags.
With no editor
You really are rucked now.
E. J. Thribb, 17 ½
Chapter 5: From the Headmaster's Desk
The New Coalition Academy
Squeezed Middle England
(hand deliver by WRAG work experience. Send one with wheels, it's a long journey. Dave.)
Lord Aristides P Gnome
Tax Haven Towers
3rd Gherkin from the left
Look, old chap, surely it’s time to let this thing go? Just stirs up ill feeling and makes the PTA complain! You can find that totty Glenda a place on one of your other esteemed organs (ho ho!). Or she can script write for Boris – can’t be any worse than he does for himself!
So how about it? You let the Eye close, and I have another think about putting you on the Starbucks opt-in school trips fund scheme?
David Cameron MA (Oxon)
Chapter 6: From The Message Boards
Members of the online community respond to the major issues of the day...
Editor leaves Private Eye - or was he pushed?
Well it has to happen, didn’t it, you can’t spend your life poking fun at everything and expect to keep your job! Quite right too, innit about time a proper Brit took over!
Welsh. What do you expect? The cross bred so called "British" simply don't have the resilience of an Englishman with generations of Angelfolc blood. I blame the leeks.
Quite right too, dragging Lord Gnome into the papers like that, and all the bin rummaging! I heard Gnome junior’s taking over – good on him! Geneva’s more British than Wales, after all!
I swear if someone did that with my kids around I'd do time!!
Dunt rilly matter tho dunnit cos it's all juss posh blokes tryin' to look clever an that innit altho I do like the pichtures
Great stuff guys!!!!!
Chapter 7: “A Tale of Inheritance” by Dame Sylvie Krin
High foreheaded and proud, Aristides P Gnome (jnr) met the yob’s red-eyed glare with his own flinty gaze. Manly beads of sweat glistened on his masculine jowly cheeks and his fledgling chin wobbled only slightly as he noticed the Vileroy and Boch quail spoon grasped in the other man’s rude, mechanical fist.
It was difficult not to feel some regret at the perhaps over hasty decision to placate his father. Ari knew little of satire, less still about managing a team of journalists. Television, that was easy, any fool could make a living out of D list celebs. He thought fondly of his greatest success - Ant and Dec's "I'm almost a celebrity love island escape by dancing on ice." But that was a long time ago, then there was that David Icke incident with the iguanas, and.. well. Yes. And he had rested on his laurels too long.
But, damn it, he was *not* “a wombat’s dong” (oh, his beloved yet occasionally harsh father’s colourful turns of phrase!), and he would prove he deserved to inherit the media empire. Ari's father, Lord Gnome, was 132 years of age, and had still not made a will.... there was time. Not much, surely, but time.
Starting the role in the hours of darkness, on a mist laden London evening, the feint streetlights offering little protection from the shadows, with no security guard in situ, however, may have been foolish.
Oh, Ari! Curse your reckless bravery!
Yob loomed over him. The heady scents of Carling and Royal 25s mixed intoxicatingly. The spoon glinted menacingly.
"You know what?” Yob leaned in, whispering huskily in Aristides’ quivering ear. “Something funny IS going to ‘appen to you wiv a spoon.”
Chapter 8: Just Fancy That
Aristides P Gnome jnr is to take over editorial control of Lord Gnome’s battleship if not flagship publication “Private Eye” following the resignation of the current editor due to “a change in career aspirations.” Lord Gnome stated, “I could not be more certain that my son will take the publication from strength to strength.”
Daily Interrogator, 21st December
Following the unexpected illness of Aristides P Gnome junior, Lord Gnome has advised that he and the former editor have resolved their differences.
Daily Interrogator, 22nd December
James Burrough, producers of Beefeater Gin, have advised that due to recent heavy demand, no further supplies will be shipped before the new year. Shops may wish to consider alternative providers.
The Grocer website, 22nd December
Chapter 9: Pseudo Names
Congratulations on your reinstatement. This does seem rather sudden - I smell something odd in Lord Gnome’s turnaround.
Good to have you back! I hope you have room for another small celebratory tipple!
No doubt karma will catch up with Lord Gnome in due course.
Chapter 10: Letter to the Editor
it is with some regret that I learn of the departure of the editor, to be replaced by Gnome junior in a fit of what can only be wild nepotism. And this with no sign of an offensive cover! Charity begins at Gnome, Gnomesick, etc.
I hereby wish to cancel my
..oh, he's back? That was quick.
So as not to waste this sheet of Basildon Bond, I expect Lord Gnome will be distraught at the recent incidents involving his son. I understand older men have been known on occasion to seek solace with an attractive younger female. Do you perhaps have a photograph of such an event?
Chapter 11: The Things They Say
This job certainly doesn't win you a huge amount of friends, I accept that, but it is very enjoyable, and deep down I think it's probably quite a worthwhile job.