The man who bequeathed a tent to his ten-year old neighbour saying: ‘Promise me you’ll have an adventure in here’ has returned from beyond the veil to complain of breach of promise and disrespecting his memory.
‘I meant the lad to have a bit of fun, like an illicit wank over whatever top-shelf mags he managed to shoplift,’ complained the ghost of Rick Abbott, who died aged 74 earlier this year. ‘Overprotected middle-class kids don’t get to sneak off to the woods for these important rights of passage, like we used to. I thought the tent might give him a bit of welcome privacy in between conversational Mandarin and piano practice. ’
Instead, Max has spent 200 consecutive nights loyally sleeping in the tent, selflessly raising money for the hospice which cared for Rick and his wife Sue in their final days, and intends to carry on for a full year.
‘For f*ck’s sake,’ groaned the apparition, ‘What’s wrong with using it to sniff nitrous oxide from a punctured whipped-cream aerosol, or engineer that first awkward grope of a classmate’s boob? I mean, I did a huge pantomime wink when I said ‘adventure’, I really thought he’d got it; but jeez, that boy’s an unimaginative goody-two-shoes. ’
Clawing up to £16,000 in the first seven months of his camp-out, thanks to the sickening oxygen of publicity, Max’s JustGiving total had leaped to £34,000 by the time our reporter jadedly switched on their laptop, is currently topping £50,000, and probably nailed its first million by the time your partner said: ‘Awww, you’ve got to read this, it’s really heart-warming’.
On hearing the news, Captain Sir Tom Moore of Fundraiseshire was reported to be on the way to defend his record by any means necessary, armed with a bag of M&S Percy Pigs, a pack of cable ties, and a howitzer, news which a delighted Mr Abbott greeted with: ‘Someone with balls- finally!’