‘LOCK, STOCK AND BARREL’ by Pete Brammer

Pete’s response to the Trigger ‘lock’ … and two others.


DCI Townsend’s bleep suddenly broke into life at 4am one Sunday morning. Answering to the call, he learned there had been a break in at Bedlam’s Electrical, on the Mayfair Industrial Estate the other side of town. Along with his number two, Joe Watson, they set off to investigate.

Arriving on site, a police constable stepped out to greet the officers. “Constable Jenkins, sir.”

Townsend nodded. “What do we have Jenkins?”

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‘Finders Keepers’ by Pete Brammer

Pete has come up with another of his stories incorporating song titles – a great writing challenge for any fan – of books, songs … whatever – GB Stamps?
He had underlined the titles, but we’re going to have more fun: Cliff Richard is the only act to have had a number one single in the UK in five consecutive decades, so even some young ones will know quite a few. (Did you see what I did there?) It’s not an exhaustive list – but how many of the 34 contained, can you find?


In the early 80’s I was in my early 30’s and feeling like a bachelor boy after splitting with my wife Samenita.

For my summer holiday, I decided to take in the sights of Rio de Janeiro and visit the famous Copacabana Beach, a place I had always dreamed of, after hearing the song by Barry Manilow.

My second day there was the day I met Marie. To me, she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
We happened to meet on the beach , where she was dancing very provocatively. It was her wonderful tanned skin and slim body that attracted me to her, and I couldn’t blame it on the Bossa Nova. I felt good vibrations, and as a lump came into my throat, I nervously told her. “I think I’m going to fall in love with you.” It felt like a schoolboy crush all over again.

Her little hand tightened its grip on mine. “Yes, I could easily fall in love as well.”

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Pete’s response to the trigger green


The world was astounded by a little school girl who took on their governments, her name Greta Thunberg. She was fighting for this planet of ours, against pollution and destruction of the ozone layer. We will never forget how she took on single handed, Donald Trump, the President of the United States of America, addressed the United Nations whilst winning all our hearts.

Then, an invisible creature decided to rear its ugly head in Wuhan, China; its name, ‘Coronavirus’ (Covid 19). It grounded aeroplanes; stopped trains, kept vehicles off the road and confined communities to their homes preventing them from disposing of their litter in public places. It did what Greta could not do.

Unfortunately it sadly killed millions as it swept across the globe, taking governments like ours unprepared. For years our government had been slowly running down and destroying the Health Service by privatising areas bit by bit, hoping we wouldn’t notice. This is when it came back to bite them, and boy did it bite them hard. Our nurses, doctors, porters, care workers, and others, too any to mention stepped forward with the ‘Dunkirk Spirit’ putting their own lives at risk, fully aware of a shortage of protective equipment. Unfortunately some paid the ultimate price to protect us. They were angels and we salute them.

During this time, there has been one person who has been overlooked and not given a mention, in any way, shape or form. That person was one of the greatest politicians this country has ever known, Aneurin Bevan the founder of our wonderful NHS.

In order to rectify this, I have written to Her Majesty the Queen, requesting he receive a posthumous Knighthood and appear on a future banknote. This is the least we could do.

Thank God we have great people like Greta Thunberg, Aneurin Bevan and not forgetting Captain Tom Moore.

TAP, TAP … TAP, TAP, TAP by Pete Brammer

Pete’s response to the trigger ‘tap’.

TAP, TAP … TAP, TAP, TAP by Pete Brammer

A new doctor stretched out, behind his desk,
Holding a nameplate, in shining brass,
‘Tap, tap … tap, tap, tap’,
When in walked, hypochondriac, Jane Glass.

“I need medication for my arthritis,
Stomach ulcers and my heart,
And, what about my inflamed bowels?
So embarrassing, they make me fart.

“There’s cream I require, for cystitis,
My haemorrhoids are playing-up too,
And how long, I’ve suffered with migraine?
To be honest, I haven’t a clue.

“But worst of all, are my chest pains,
I’m having a heart attack.” she said.
After carefully reading her medical notes,
“You are a fraud, and just swinging the lead.

“I just don’t have the time, to waste on you.”
His feelings, he just couldn’t hide,
But later was given, the shocking news,
She collapsed, and died outside.

That first day in practice, played on his mind,
To the point, when he broke down and cried, F
inally he found, he could take it no more,
And was forced to, commit suicide.

Ironically, they buried him next to her,
Him, with his terrible burns.
Next day on his coffin; ‘Tap, tap … tap, tap, tap.’
“Hey doctor, have you got anything for worms?”

OLD NED AND FLO by Pete Brammer

OLD NED AND FLO by Pete Brammer

When thinking back, I often relate,

To an aging old couple, that passed by our gate,

Around Worksop town, they’d both come and go,

And went by the names, of ‘Old Ned and Flo’.


Ned, he was born of quite noble birth,

But is there a price on what that is worth?

For as he grew older, he had everything made,

But fell in love, with a pretty young maid.


His ma and pa were both quite aghast,

Hoping and praying their love wouldn’t last,

Yet try as they may, he just wouldn’t hear,

So when they were wed, he was out on his ear.


A home with refinement meant nothing at all,

To this king and queen, who’d answered the call,

A call from the wild, and the wide open spaces,

To shake off the shackles, and throw off the tracers.


A freedom to wander, a freedom to roam,

No longer in future, would they need a home,

For no one was happier, than Flo with her Ned,

With devotion unmatched, from that day they were wed.


In turn each would push, a run-down old pram,

For the comforts of life, they gave not a damn,

Their worldly possessions, were on those four wheels,

And yet they were happy, though down at the heels.


Flo broke her leg, in a fall or such,

So Ned bless his heart, would push his old dutch,

Mile after mile, around country lanes,

The smile on her face, repaid all his pains.


He noted these things, as he toiled in his labours,

For these little moments, were relished and savoured.

As kids we would taunt, and Ned would give chase,

But always made sure, that we won the race.


No malice or grudge, he ever did bare,

For God knows he took, much more than his share,

Now that I’m older, and know I was cruel,

I’d like to say sorry, for playing the fool.


T’was a sad day for Flo, when Ned passed away,

She had no one close, and nowhere to stay,

After choosing the life, of an outdoor pursuit,

It seemed that she now, had to finally take root.


But where could she go, In clothes ragged that smell?

For this was the problem, they knew only too well,

Kindness prevailed at the King Edward Hotel,

They did her up nicely, and treated her well,


Little pink ribbons tied up her white hair.

And she looked like a lady, whilst in their care,

But she never got over, Ned’s passing away,

And thought of him constantly, day after day.


Flo died soon after, they say that she pined,

But left us some wonderful memories behind,

If you’re up there Ned, with Flo looking down,

I most deeply regret, my acting the clown.

Ned and Flo News cutting

So when the time comes, and my life’s at an end,

I hope you’ll both meet me, and say. “Welcome my friend”.


By Peter D. Brammer (The Shireoaks Bard)