Did someone order a trailer?

Yes, it's here. The brand-spanking new 2nd trailer for Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins! This time with added Fry narration, a bit of Professor Mumblecore and a lovely shot with the Sydney Opera House in the background.

Skiffle lives!

Here is the official music video for the first single off the BSATCOP soundtrack album: Famous by Johnny Leroy and the Impulsives. The video features Johnny (Jon Sewell), Scotty Maher (Riley Maher), Pino Pastorious (Tim Sampson) and Benjamin Sniddlegrass (Andrew Griscti) himself. Also featured is the sinister Lord Emmerich, but we won't reveal who's behind the mask.

Benjamin Sniddlegrass announces bid for PM

Nineteen year-old wittertainer Benjamin Sniddlegrass today announced that he was throwing his cap into the ring for Australia's highest position of power - Prime Minister. He made the announcement at a sparsely attended press conference at the foot of Mt. Buggery, Victoria, this morning.

'I've always loved this country - my island home!' said Sniddlegrass, who grew up in Cockfosters, England and moved to Australia less than a year ago. 'A burning country, a land of sweeping drains, of rugged Mountain Rangers!'

Sniddlegrass is running as a candidate for the newly-formed Cauldron Party, whose manifesto promises 'a horse in every barn, a cauldron in every kitchen'. So far, he appears to be the only candidate the party is fielding for this election, which may hurt their chances of gaining the majority needed to form government.

'Julia Gillard may be Australia's first ginger prime minister, but I will be Australia's first elected ginger prime minister,' said the be-quiffed redhead. 'It's time we ended the era of female prime ministers and let a man have a go for once!'

Pundits were quick to weigh in on his chances.

'He's got some forthright views,' explained veteran Channel 9 commentator Laurie Oakes, 'and those may hurt him in some areas. But he's been right out there in front on some issues. He was the first to say 'tough on penguins, tough on the causes of penguins', although he wouldn't explain what that actually meant when I asked him'.

Sniddlegrass took questions for a total of ninety minutes at the end of the press conference, most of them from Mark Latham, whose constant entreaties to the candidate to "call Rudd a snotty little douche" went unanswered.

In response to a question on immigration, Sniddlegrass had this to say: 'We will stop the stoats! I've had enough of this country being overrun by stoat people and my ban on human-animal hybridization should put a stop to that!'

The campaign released this commercial to media this afternoon:


Benjamin Sniddlegrass is currently polling third as Preferred Prime Minister - ahead of Tony Abbott, but behind Julia Gillard and P!nk.

Ginger Skiffle Sex God

Visit Johnny Leroy on MySpace and hear Stephen Fry talk about him!

Johnny Leroy is a name that reverberates through music history like a bedpan bouncing off the walls of an elevator shaft.

The skiffle icon was born Pelham Grenville Leroy in Intercourse, Pennsylvania, to strict Amish parents. James Hugh Callum Leroy and Stephanie John Leroy's religious beliefs forbade the presence of a radio (or 'Satan's noise box') in the house, so the curious young PG Leroy would jog the 1,189 miles from Intercourse to New Orleans every Saturday morning to watch to the local jug blues bands.

By 1952, Johnny had adopted the name that would be come famous and moved to Cockfosters, England. Soon after arriving, he became a star in the local skiffle scene, mentoring the young Lonnie Donegan. He was soon signed with local recording label Sputz Records and his first self-titled LP went to the top of the Euro-Synth-Pop charts. This was a strategic move by his label, who figured they would face little competition in a genre that would not exist for another twenty-six years.

After the success of 'Self', Johnny formed a trio with local manure salesmen, Riley Maher and Tim Sampson. They were of simple minds and tastes, content with a bucket of dung and a copy of the Daily Mail as payment for their musical services. The band, known now as Johnny Leroy and the Impulsives, began their first national tour in 1956, on the heels of Leroy's second LP, 'There's Johnny Leroy'.

The tour kicked off in Cockfosters and from there visited Wetwang, Twatt, Titty Hill and Thong, as part of a government initiative to bring music to towns with embarrassing place names.

In 1961, the Johnny Leroy came to an abrupt halt, when the man himself was asphyxiated in a tragic yogurt accident. He continued to has posthumous success, as Sputz Records executives issued numerous singles culled from hours of unreleased studio tapes. The double A-side of 'Do You Think We Should Go For Another Take On That One, Jeff?' and 'Do You Mind Getting Me A Coffee From The Canteen?' spent six weeks at number seven in 1962.

Leroy never lived to see himself immortalized in the film of his life story 'Ginger: The Johnny Leroy Story' or the success British Invasion bands had with covers of his songs - in particular, the Rutles' smash hit version of 'Just Strum An A7 For A Bit So I Can Get The Levels'.

I'll take one very tall man with a bent nose, please.

In case you're wondering, yes Stephen Fry is narrating Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins. I sat down with the man I've idolized since I was prepubescent this afternoon and laid down the track. He was as lovely as you might expect, his performance exceeded my wildest expectations and he pronounced the script 'very funny'. Well, if that didn't just make my year.

He also suggested I rope Michael Sheen in for a cameo, as he not only can play anyone but is a friend of Wittertainment. Perhaps he'd be up for portraying a sociopathic wizard with the head of a gorilla?

A video sneak peak!

We're giving you a sneak peak at 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins'!

In this scene from the film, Benjamin dreams about watching his boyhood idols - Johnny Leroy and the Impulsives - perform, and his dream is invaded by the sinister Lord Emmerich.

Starring Andrew Griscti, Jon Sewell, Riley Maher and Tim Sampson.


Become fan on Facebook!

In the Wittertainment Nerve Centre

Saturday June 19

I'm writing this outside at the Southbank near Waterloo Station, where someone appears to have erected a large garish ferris wheel.

Spent the morning at BBC Television Centre, where a lovely FiveLive producer named David Braithwaite took me into the Wittertainment Nerve Centre and I sat in with them for the duration of the programme. The operation there runs at the speed an precision of a good Rude Goldberg Machine - sorting through emails, printing the good ones, highlighting paragraphs, organising them by topics, picking up interesting tweets (you'll be comforted to know that it is indeed Dr Mayo running the Wittertainment twitter, with the occasional contribution from Dr K on his laptop), patching in the various News and Sport related interlopers. There's a small crew of extremely hard working and pleasant people on the job there - and they laugh at all the same gags we do - including the flappy hand action.

Dr K bolted straight after the recording - he muttered something about napalm and the Pirates 4 production office, but I didn't quite catch it - but Dr Mayo stopped in to say Hello and check up on the progress of the Frankenstein's monster that he and Mark have unintentionally wrought. He seemed a little bemused at my lack of interest in the football, told me it was a long way to come to watch a radio programme being recorded (I thought it was perfectly justifiable - and hopefully a tax write off) and wished me good luck with my totally insane enterprise. Disconcertingly, he looks younger than I do. Perhaps it's the 'Born Again Floozies' T-shirt. He suggested to me via Twitter that it might be time to erect the 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass Theme Park'. There's a big grassy area near my hotel that doesn't seem to be getting used for anything - the sign nearby says 'Hydepark'. Will have to get in touch with the local authority.

I have to say this London trip is all panning out rather well so far. I've got some good exterior shooting done (some of the grounds of Fairport Academy and Benjamin's childhood home), got into the FiveLive studios without having to disguise myself as Danny Baker and last night I performed a kazoo solo at Royal Festival Hall*.

Anyway, I'll keep you all posted as the trip continues. Ta for now.

Jeremy Dylan
Aged 20
London, England

*to answer the inevitable questions:
1. I played 'Bohemian Rhapsody'.
2. Hopefully you'll be able to hear it when the next series of I'm Sorry, I Haven't A Clue airs, assuming I don't get edited out of the broadcast.

Behind the Cauldron Blog: London Calling!

June 14, 2010

Hello cauldronites! Jeremy Dylan here - writer/director/producer/editor/bon vivant and general renaissance man of the Australian independent film industry.

It's been suggested to me that, since I've already got a blog happening here, why not turn it into a behind-the-scenes diary on the making of the film. So here we are. Normally, one would start this, say, at the idea stage, rather than after shooting has begun, but as I've always said: 'If something's worth doing, it's worth starting late and writing at 2am the morning it's due'. That philosophy served me well with high school English assignments, so I don't see why I shouldn't employ it here.

I'm writing this initial entry on an airplane on my way to London, where I hope to shoot some location footage for the film. If it all goes according to plan, I'll also worm my way into the 5Live studios this Saturday and maybe even say 'Hello to Jason Isaacs and David Morrissey'.

I'm sharing the aircraft with a small party of Orthodox Jews, who look like they're auditioning for an Israeli musical about the career of ZZ Top, a flight attended who looks like Lily Allen and a bloke in premium economy who looks like Sam Neill. Oh, hang on, that is Sam Neill. Blimey Charlie! I'm on the same airplane as the finest actor New Zealand's ever produced! ... I hope Russell Crowe isn't reading this.


EDITED TO ADD: In actual fact, I met Russell Crowe on my 12th birthday. He was very personable, we talked about music for a few minutes (at no point in the conversation did he accuse me of having 'dead ears'), then I picked up my bag and left. He's a big country music fan.

Anyways... Sam Neill's on my plane! Not even in London yet and already the thespians are popping out of the woodwork. I considered accosting him and asking him to play the narrator - or even voice one of the penguins - but decided against it. Being harassed by some bequiffed lunatic in a Harrington jacket would probably spoil his day a little.

Now I'm going to sample the inflight entertainment system - depressing B&W documentaries about Liverpool here I come! Or perhaps they might even have Charles Dickens's England?

Behind the Cauldron: Meet Andrew Griscti

We thought it was about time you met the man playing Benjamin Sniddlegrass himself, so here you go - Episode 2 of BEHIND THE CAULDRON!

Lines that tag!

Inspired by Friday's episode of Wittertainment, we're running a competition to come up with an obvious tag line for the 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins' movie over on the Facebook page.

Here are some entries we've received so far:

'Benjamin Sniddlegrass says 'Hello' to danger!' - Ben Flanagan

'The name's Sniddlegrass. Benjamin Sniddlegrass, and I'm going to make a penguin stew' - Jonathon Paxton

'Cooking birds. This Christmas' - Rasmus Widengård.

'Every penguin attached to this should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves.' - Calton Bolick.

Please keep these coming in, both on the Facebook page and on the comments section here. The winner will go on the new teaser poster for the film, which will come out in the coming weeks.

Also, please send them in to mayo@bbc.co.uk and you never know - you might here your handiwork on the radio come Friday, assuming they actually do the show on Friday and Dr K isn't stuck in the Ukraine with Dr Nyet or taking in dinner at Skifflopolus.

Fan Submissions #1: Dean Palmer, Secret Agent

I've decided to feature some reader submissions on the blog - fellow Wittertainment fans who have been following the exploits of Benjamin Sniddlegrass here and were inspired to create their own work. Last week I showed you a poster I'd put together from an idea from Mr David Partington. This time around, there's an actual poster which was sent to me from the wonderfully monikered Dean Palmer.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS HIGH INTENSITY TACHE ACTION.

Paul Greengrass's next film

You may have though Paul Greengrass would be taking a breather after releasing 'Green Zone', but he's back at it again, with a new film in production. We've sneaked a look at the poster:

with thanks to David Partington AKA partyhat for the concept.

Non-satirical post: Actual movie going to be actually made by me

I would like to announce publicly, that after being inundated with numerous emails of encouragement (no doubt brought on by Dr Mayo reading out my work on FiveLive), I have decided to go ahead and make the movie.

I have a commitment (made on air) by Dr M and Dr K that they will journey down under for the premiere and have a received an offer from a smooth jazz outfit based in Ireland to provide a score. Jason Isaacs has volunteered to play all the penguins, which will pose a challenge to my special effects team.

Therefore, today I announce the official commencement of preproduction on 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins', to be directed by myself under the professional pseudonym of Christopher Columbus.

All further updates on the production of the film will be labelled 'Non-satirical post' as to avoid confusion between these and my side-splittingly hilarious lampoons, which regularly feature here.

- Jeremy Dylan

The UK's foremost film journalist weighs in on 'Cauldron'

Benjamin Sniddlegrass on Facebook

On the eve of production of the first Benjamin Sniddlegrass film, the phenomenon has begun to spread through all online media. Click here to visit the official Facebook page for 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins', where the official plot synopsis is given:

"It's the story of a boy with a dorky name and an awkward home life, who discovers that the reason he doesn't fit in is because he's actually a magical boy, with a magical heritage, and a magical father he didn't know about before. Then he finds out about that, and when he's found out about that, he is taken off magic school, where he has to learn a bunch of magic because he is the chosen one who has to go and fight a great battle."

Two regular people discuss 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins'

Well, folks, we're into production now and word is starting to spread about the upcoming film adaptation of BSATCOP (as the fans call it). Here's a short video of two everyday folk discussing the movie:

Christopher Columbus to direct 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins'

In an embarrassing typographical error, famed Italian explorer Christopher Columbus has been hired to direct the upcoming film adaptation of 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins'.

'I really don't know how this happened,' said studio president Jonah Kurtzburg. 'I told the producers I wanted Chris Columbus to do the picture and the next thing I knew, there was a signed multi-picture deal with a 15th century European Admiral sitting on top of my IN tray.'

This will be the first high-budget Hollywood film for Columbus, who is best known for initiating Spanish colonization of North America. He beat out fan favourites Paul Greengrass (Resurrected) and Guillermo Del Toro (Pan's Labyrinth) for the job.

A spokesman for Columbus, who died of a heart attack in 1506, said he was 'thrilled to be joining the Benjamin Sniddlegrass family' and that he hoped to give fans of the books 'the movie they deserve'.

Producer Jon Peters released a statement earlier today, saying he was 'overjoyed to have CC on board' and that he brought a 'sensibility to the picture distinct from the Hollywood mainstream'.

Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins is due to begin shooting in April for an October 2010 release date.

Extracts from 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Insignificant Bullet'

Extract from Chapter One

Benjamin Sniddlegrass was having fun. A vacation was just what he needed, after the events of the previous school year. So there he sat, soaking up the beautiful Isle of Man air and sipping a margarita.

‘Aren’t you a little young to be drinkin’ margaritas?’ the bartender had asked him.

Thankfully, Ben managed to convince the man that he was not a twelve year old boy, but in fact, famed character actor Peter Dinklage.

‘What fresh adventures will await me at Fairport Academy this year?’ Ben wondered to himself.

‘What indeed?’ asked Pentangle, striding purposefully out of a public toilet. His moustache had grown since they’d last seen each other. It was now so big it had gained sentience – and was fed up with Pentangle only ever reading the bloody Guardian. Many heated arguments had ensued.

‘I told you before, Pentangle,’ complained Ben, ‘Stop reading my mind. It’s very- ’

‘Annoying?’ he said, finishing Ben’s sentence. ‘Yes, I suppose it would be.’

The boy glared up at his de facto mentor. ‘What are you doing here Pentangle? I thought wittertainers were only allowed in muggle-land on Friday afternoons.’

The older man nodded grimly, running a hand through his mullet. ‘Normally, that is so. But a special exception has been made. I’m here to take you back to Warthog Island, Ben.’

Sniddlegrass gurned petulantly and rose from the recliner chair he’d been sitting in. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘It’s a week til end of holidays. I just rented four Planet of the Apes movies!’

‘Sorry, young Benjamin, nothing doing. The new headmaster needs to see you before the annual staff get-together.’

Ben furrowed his brow. ‘But I thought the Fairport Assembly was first day of school term?’

‘It is,’ Pentangle explained, ‘but six days before that, there’s a private staff-only meeting. It’s called… Fairport Conference.’

Extract from Chapter Three

Ben finished upacking his suitcase and stowed it under his bead. Little had changed about his assigned boarding room, except the plaid wallpaper had been replaced by tartan. He slipped on his ceremonial gumboots and strode off towards the main hall.

The hall was one of the smaller rooms at Fairport Academy – roughly the size of the Royal Albert. The dining tables were laid out in the shape of an opossum (as was the custom), all set for the staff dinner that evening.

Perched on the throne at the far side of the room was the new headmaster – a sturdy, middle-aged Bavarian wittertainer with late-period Elvis sideburns and a pair of national health service spectacles. Ben entered through the main doors, and seven minutes later, he’d reached the throne at the other end of the room.

‘Good… good afternoon, sir,’ Ben said, out of breath.

‘Aaah, Sniddlegrass,’ greeted the heavily-accented teacher. ‘It voss very goot of you to come at such shawt notiss.’

Ben winced at the headmaster’s spelling. ‘Not at all, sir. Why did you need to see me?’

‘There uh theengs afutt yerng Sneedullgrarse-‘ he began. He paused, cleared this throat and continued.

‘As I was saying, there are things afoot, Sniddlegrass. Terrible things. Things that could lead the death of narrative cinema!’

Benjamin was stunned. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but the headmaster cut him off.

‘But that’s enough about that for the time being,’ he declared, as he stepped off his throne and began moonwalking down the middle aisle.

‘Before I came here,’ he continued, ‘I was chief political advisor to the Conservative Party.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘You look into the eyes of a Tory and you lose yourself in a completely flat, frightening stupidity. They are like a great metaphor for me... I kind of love Tories, but they frighten me more than any other animal.’

As they travelled, the headmaster slowly increased in speed, until he was spinning along with the speed of a drummer being blown off a concert stage by a giant wind machine. Ben was struggling to keep up.

Extract from Chapter Five

After the main course – boiled piranha – had been consumed, Headmaster Herzog stood up before the assembled mass of teachers, administrators and janitors.

‘I have big changes in store at Fairport Academy!’ he announced. ‘My Fairport Academy is not for the faint-hearted; it is for those who have travelled on foot, who have worked as bouncers in sex clubs or as wardens in a lunatic asylum, fo those who are willing to learn about lockpicking. In short: for those who have a sense for poetry. For those who are pilgrims. For those who have a fire burning within. For those who have a dream.’

Shocked murmuring and gesticulations spread throughout the cavernous* hall, many of the janitors’ heads spinning round a full 360 degrees as they projectile vomited chunks of piranha. For his own part, Ben hadn’t been so shocked since his mother was struck by lighting and he was committed to mental asylum.

‘Censorship will be enforced,’ the headmaster continued. ‘There will be no talk of shamans, of yoga classes, nutritional values, herbal teas, discovering your Boundaries, and Inner Growth.’

---

*Really, really big. Like super-large and stuff.

Extract from Chapter Fourteen

Sniddlegrass surveyed the wreckage in front of him. What remained of Fairport Academy after the events of the previous eight chapters was little more than a pile of rubble – dank, ugly and inhabitable. It reminded him of Peckham.

He walked over to the headmaster’s office, which was oddly intact in the middle of the destruction. The headmaster himself was crouched on top of his desk, listening intently to an Ian Dury cassette on his walkman. Ben tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Aah, young Sniddlegrass,’ the Bavarian said, observantly. ‘You must be congratulated on your efforts in the previous chapter. You behaved in a manner both engrossing and metatextually very interesting.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Ben replied. ‘I have to say that thing you did in Chapter Nine was the most astounding – and deep – thing I’ve seen in all my days.’

Ben noticed a trickle of liquid begin to… trickle from the headmaster’s crotch.

‘Sir, if you’d like to be alone…’ Ben began, trailing off suggestively.

The older man looked at him questioningly, then looked down at his trousers.

‘Oh, don’t worry about that!’ the headmaster chuckled. ‘I am not incontinent. I was shot on my way to work this morning! But it was not a significant bullet.’

Benjamin looked concerned. ‘What is the history between you and Lord Emmerich, sir? I believe you knew him – from the old days?’

The headmaster turned to him, in a dramatic medium close up. ‘Rolly and I go back a long way. We were once friends. We fought side-by-side in the terrible Bride Wars of ’09, which almost brought about my destruction. I managed to survive the experience with my sanity intact. He was not so lucky – it… turned him.’

The silver-haired schoolmaster looked down, introspectively.

‘People think we had a love-hate relationship. Well, I did not love him, nor did I hate him. We had mutual respect for each other, even as we both planned each other's murder.’

Extract from Chapter Forty-Seven

‘What a rollercoaster ride of action and adventure, Ben!’ proclaimed Richard Gere.

‘Indeed,’ concurred the ghost of Colonel Tom Parker. ‘People will be talkin’ bout this for all the goshdarn days to come, yessiree!’

They were all assembled together in Los Angeles International Airport, which looked vaguely like a 30s Sci-Fi film, but in colour. Sniddlegrass had promised to reveal the answers to all their unanswered questions. Questions like: Would they be getting in a proper director to handle the next book? What happened to the characters from the previous book that the fans didn’t like? Stray Cats v. Polecats?

Benjamin Sniddlerass stood at the end of the carriage, dressed in jeans and rockabilly shoes, with Tom Ford glasses and an oversized cowboy hat. His jacket was buttoned up, save for the lower button*.

‘Thank you all for coming,’ he began. ‘Before we get started, I’d like to say this. Hello to Jason Isaacs.’

‘Hello,’ said Jason, from his seat, stroking his moustache suggestively.

‘Hello to Dave Morrisey.’

‘I'm not the one on trial for murder,’ replied David Morrisey.

‘Not yet,’ clarified Ben.

‘How very Lacanian of you,’ yelled Meg Ryan, from a helicopter above them.

----

*The Bill Nighy Law of Sartorial Elegance.

Exclusive: The Cauldron of Penguins Poster unveiled

In an exciting exclusive, we can reveal the official teaser postal for the upcoming film adaptation of the first book in the Benajmin Sniddlegrass series, Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins.



No casting news has been confirmed, but there are rumors that Jason Isaacs may be eying a role. His moustache is also reported to be interested in a part, but they are represented by different agents.

Extracts from 'Benjamin Sniddlegrass and the Cauldron of Penguins'

Extract from Chapter One

From an early age, Benjamin Sniddlegrass knew that he was different. The physical differences were the easiest to notice – the naturally quaffed, waxy hair; the massive, lumpy hands that dragged on the ground when he walked. But he thought differently, also.
‘He gets it from his parents,’ was what his guardian – Aunt David Morrisey – would say. ‘It’s their fault, saddling him with such a ridiculous moniker. What kind of a name for a boy is Benjamin?’
As a schoolboy, Benjamin was haunted by haunting images of Julian Sands, haunting him during class. Once, during assembly, he leapt to his feet and relayed a terrible prophecy that ‘the death of narrative cinema is at hand!’
He also developed a taste for something called ‘skiffle music’.

Extract from Chapter Four

‘Even if I am a… What did you say they were called, Pentangle?’
‘Wittertainer, Ben,’ said Pentagle, bits of the hamburger he was eating spilling out of his mouth. ‘The males are called wittertainers. The females are called lindablairs.’
It had been just six hours since Pentagle had plucked him out of class and revealed to him the truth – that he, Benjamin Sniddlegrass, was really a wittertainer, descendant of an ancient tribe of sorcerers, mystics and BBC radio personalities. It was just starting to sink in.
‘Even if I am a wittertainer, how does that explain the visions I’ve been having?’
Pentagle frowned, his wild Sam Elliot-style tache and purple zoot-suit clashing with the dingy speedboat they were travelling in.
‘They’re not visions, Ben,’ he explained. ‘They’re premonitions – of events yet to come! Events so terrible that they could lead to the death of narrative cinema!’
‘I had a prophecy about that very thing you just said then,’ said Ben, ungrammatically.
He looked out at the forbidding island looming in front of them.
‘Is that Warthog Island?’ Ben asked.
Pentangle had told him of the land, impossible to locate by mortals – even with Google maps.
‘That it be,’ the older man confirmed. ‘Home to the great Fairport Academy, where you shall receive your instruction in wittertaining. First will be your initiation. Every year, the staff and pupils come together for a special gathering we call: the Fairport Assembly.’
Ben thought about all the revelations of the day. He had so many unanswered questions: How had his parents really died? What would come of his terrible prophecies? Was that an Omega watch Pentangle was wearing?
‘It’s a Timex,’ the older man answered, reading Ben’s mind. ‘All I can afford on a BBC salary.’
‘One thing’s been bothering me, Pentangle.’
‘Ask away, lad.’
‘Well, you and I are the only people here, right.’
‘That’s right.’
Ben’s brow furrowed. ‘Then who’s driving the boat?’
‘Don’t ask stupid questions,’ Pentangle replied tersely.

Extract from Chapter Seven

Benjamin was enjoying life at Fairport immensely. He had chosen as his major subjects spells, potions and double bass; and was settling into school life effortlessly. In no time at all, he’d made friends with the Dodge Sisters – Erma and Ikea.
‘You know what you need,’ said Ikea, pouting, as they sat in study hall together.
‘No, girls, I don’t know,’ Ben replied.
‘You need a new bass!’ shouted Erma.
‘I do?’ Ben asked.
‘Of course you do,’ Ikea told him.
Erma nodded in agreement. ‘You can’t keep playing that ratty old thing you found in the broom cupboard!’
‘But where can I buy a double bass on Warthog Island?’
‘M&S, of course!’ the sisters cried in two-part harmony.
‘Marks and Spencer?’ Sniddlegrass queried.
Erma kneed him in the gut, playfully. ‘No, silly – Marks and Simons!’

A little while later, after the news and traffic report, the three students found themselves wandering through the doors of Warthog Island’s largest bass emporium. A natty jukebox stood in the corner of the shop, pumping out Elkie Brooks tunes, while Mr Marks and Mr Simons stood behind the counter, surveying their domain.
As the new arrivals passed into the shop, Mr. Marks stuck his hand out to greet them. He was immaculately attired in a black suit, with black shirt, black tie, black shoes, black socks, black cufflinks and a black Fez perched atop his head.

‘Can you I help you, ladies and gentlemen?’ he inquired. ‘Are you looking for a bass today?’
‘Isn’t that all you sell?’ asked Ben, quizzically.
‘Not at all,’ Marks responded excitedly. ‘We also sell many items of magical property: Bay-Away Spray, a DVD cleaning liquid; the Kermodrifier, which can alter your voice to sound like any celebrity you choose; and ImmersoVision Specs – special glasses that allow you watch films in two dimensions, even if they were originally made in three!’
‘But why would you-‘ Benjamin began.
‘Just go with it,’ Mr. Simons whispered into Ben’s ear.
‘What was that?’ Mr. Marks asked tetchily.
‘Nothing.’
The shop owners stared at each other fiercely.
‘You’re always like this with new customers’ said Mr. Simons. ‘Ranting on about your harebrained theories and crackpot inventions.’
‘Here we go again!’ Mr. Marks responded. ‘You’re just jealous because I have a real doctorate, and yours is just honorary!’
‘Jealous?!’ Mr. Simons exclaimed. ‘You have a PhD in ‘Slade In Flames’ studies!’

Extract from Chapter Thirteen

‘I don’t understand, Acting Headmaster Bacon,’ Ben asked. ‘What exactly is the cauldron of penguins?’
Professor Bacon’s real job was maintaining the Blue Peter Garden, but he had been filling in as headmaster - ever since the previous one left to run the Chris Evans Driving School.
‘Well, well young Sniddlegrass,’ he smiled, ‘aren’t you the inquiring mind. The Cauldron of Penguins-‘ (Ben adjusted the capitalisation in his head) ‘- is one of the great unanswered questions of wittertainment lore. You know, like ‘How long is a piece of string’ and ‘What kind of grown man goes around calling himself McG?’ How many penguins can you fit in a cauldron? No one knows! But why do you ask?’
Ben handed him the note. He’d found it stuck under his pillow when he awoke that morning. It was scrawled in a semi-legible hand.
‘Dear Sniddlegrass,’ the Professor read. ‘If you value your life, you must solve the riddle of the Cauldron of Penguins before it’s too late.’
He furrowed his brow. ‘Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good.’
Ben stared at his with mild incredulity. ‘Professor, it sounds like my life’s in danger! What should I do?’
The Professor considered this for a moment. ‘Well, young man, I know what I would do if I suspected I could be murdered at any moment.’
Ben looked at him hopefully. The Professor reached into a desk draw marked ‘POTIONS, POISIONS, MISC.’ and took out a… DVD. He handed the case to his bemused pupil.
‘Of Time and the City,’ Bacon explained. ‘Cracking good film. If you see one movie before you die, see this one.’
Ben read from the blurb on the back of the case: ‘A depressing black and white documentary about Liverpool.’
Bacon rose from his chair and moved to usher the be-quiffed youngster out of the room. ‘Now, leave me in peace. I want to be alone with my Comsat Angles albums.’
‘But Professor,’ Ben protested, ‘my life is in danger!’
‘Who do you think I am? Batman? Now, bugger off out of my office!’

Epilogue

Three weeks after the confrontation, Ben Sniddlegrass awoke from a coma in the school infirmary. The Dodge sisters, not to mention Pentangle and vast majority of other characters mentioned in this book, had gathered around his beside, eager to hear the story from the horse’s mouth.

‘So tell us, Ben,’ said Pentangle. ‘How did you escape?’
Erma Dodge chimed in. ‘We all thought you were done for after evil Lord Emmerich banished you to Development Hell!’
Ben smiled at the assembled crowd. ‘It was quite simple, really. All it took was for me to answer the riddle of the Cauldron of Penguins. Then the demon gatekeeper had no choice but to send me back to Warthog Island and reverse Emmerich’s hex on Fairport.’
‘But that’s amazing, Ben!’ said School Matron Michael Sheen in admiration. ‘The riddle’s meant to be impossible to solve.’
‘How did you do it, Sniddlegrass?’ Stephen Fry asked eagerly.
‘That’s not important, friends,’ declared Ben. ‘What’s important is finding Lord Emmerich. He’s still out there, and he may very well strike again. When he does, we must be ready!’
‘And movie of the week?’
Ben thought for a moment. ‘Of Time and the City’.
‘Told you so!’ piped up Professor Bacon, from the back of the room.