The rarity value of the 2008 Range Rover Sport is such that it is tipped to fetch over £150,000 once the bidding starts. This is considerably more than a new model featuring the standard personalised plate would cost, with numbers mangled to vaguely resemble the letters in ‘BIG MIKE’. Experts feel though that it is worth the extra cash to stand out from the crowd of other 4x4s, with a plate that doesn’t make any pretentious statement about the driver.

The current owner of the car has expressed his surprise at the amount of interest generated by the sale. ‘I just don’t get it, I can’t understand what all the fuss is about at all.’ said Mr YG58 HGY.

‘There was a lot of interest in the sale,’ said Mavis Jones, manager of the Cat Protection League shop. ‘Two customers thought about it and one even tried it on, but in the end offered only £3. I’m glad we held out for the higher bid. Head Office are thrilled.’

Mrs Foster said she had decided to sell the frock – pink with a bold floral pattern and gold edgings – only after seeing Marilyn Monroe’s frock sold for £2.8m a few days ago.

‘It reminded me of my frock and the day of my sister’s wedding,’ she said. ‘The best man said I reminded him a bit of Arthur Miller.’

Fortyman, so named because of his fearless ability to drive his 2-litre Rover Coupe at 40 miles per hour regardless of traffic, speed limits or road conditions, gained a wide following for his carefree disregard for authority and his own safety. Translated into German, Vierundsechzigkilometerprostundemann became a rallying figure for opponents of the Nazi regime later in the decade.

Fortyman’s ability to drive everywhere at unthinkable speeds averted many a potential disaster and saved countless damsels in distress. There was never any violence, just a cheery, ‘Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,’ on arrival at the scene, followed by his catch phrase, ‘Hop in, love,’ before he double-declutched his way into the sunset.

Sadly, as roads and cars improved in the post war years and road safety became a major issue, Fortyman’s popularity slowly waned, and his last adventure, Exeter Bypass, was published in 1963. His creators tried to update the character, for example by allowing him to speed up on motorways, and appear ‘virtually half-naked’ without driving gloves, but these innovations came too late.

Despite his demise, his legion of fans continued to wear the costume and drive their Rovers, and latterly Hondas, everywhere at a strict 40 mph, whether on fast roads or in congested urban areas, and many can still be found throughout Britain today. While other drivers find such behaviour infuriating, devotees remain unaware of a problem, largely because they share Fortyman’s disdain for using mirrors.

When one adherent was challenged recently, he said, ‘The blighters will have to catch me first!’ before driving over a busy pedestrian crossing and going the wrong way down a slip road at forty to make good his escape with a cheery beep of his horn.

‘This is a record price for a turd,’ said Christie’s director of coprophilia memorabilia, Dr Marcus Cunningham, ‘but it does have major historical significance since we believe it was produced while Churchill was straining over the decision to launch the D-Day landings.’

The turd is understood to have defied numerous attempts to flush it away, in typical Churchillian defiance, and had ended up being collected by one of Churchill’s private secretaries and left in a cupboard for over 50 years.

Lot number 107, described in the catalogue as ‘a big, fat jobbie, in perfect condition with no damage or repairs’ was purchased by an anonymous bidder and will enter a private collection where it will sit alongside turds by Roosevelt and Stalin.

edward hack

The rare copies had a mistake in the story at the bottom of page 12, about trees. The word ‘government’ was wrongly printed with a capital ‘G’. The defective copies, dubbed the ‘Grauniad Grey’, were initially changing hands for £500, but now, seventeen years later, copies in mint condition are worth a great deal more.

The previous record for a defective newspaper was set in 2007 when an issue of the Financial Times containing ‘stranglewank’ misspelt as two separate words, fetched £200,000.
Fredd