The policeman holding Martha went inside the long low building, while his partner went round to the back of the van and unlocked the door and opened it, then he unlocked the metal cage and let Gilbert and Mr Finleyson out. He took both of them inside to the booking desk where the sergeant was waiting for them. He took down all of Gilbert's and Mr Finleyson's details which he typed into a computer. The policeman who was holding Martha, put her down on top of the long desk like counter. Mr Finleyson was so happy to be reunited with Martha, even though their separation had been brief. After being booked, they were taken down the hall to be fingerprinted and have their photos taken. Mr Finleyson picked Martha up and he and Gilbert followed the booking sergeant down the hall, where they were shown into a room. Another policeman came into the room and fingerprinted both of them. Mr Finleyson turned to Gilbert as they waited for someone to come and take their mugshots. He said, "I can't tell you Gilbert how sorry I am to have got you into this mess. You have been a good friend to me over the years and here you are, being fingerprinted, about to have a mugshot done, then you'll be slung into a cell for the night, because of Martha! I hope you can forgive us"! Gilbert replied, "You don't need to apologise Oliver. You have done nothing untoward. You can't blame Martha, she doesn't understand the ins and outs of blowing raspberries. She's Martha! We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens. That Robocop was a bit touchy, wasn't he?" The man who takes the mugshots entered the room. "Who's first?" he said. Gilbert went and sat down on the stool in front of the camera which was mounted on a tripod. Picture taken, he got up and Mr Finleyson went and sat down, holding Martha on his lap. Just as the man was about to take the photo, Martha raised herself up, stuck out her little tongue at the camera as it took Mr Finleyson's mugshot. When it was shown to the desk sergeant, there was Mr Finleyson staring at the camera and also Martha's little black, beady eyes shining into the camera and the little tongue poised in mid air. Martha was in the mugshot with Mr Finleyson!

"Excuse me officer, but Martha here has never been caged or apart from me since she was a chick. Putting her in a cage and then a kennel could kill her. Please Officer, let me hold onto her for the ride! She is my star hen and means the world to me. Wherever I go, she goes"! The policeman stared at Martha, who was staring back at him. Mr Finleyson could see that Martha was turning on the charm. A little late for that, he thought! Once again he was in trouble, and Gilbert also, because of Martha's antics. She's one of a kind, he thought! The policeman finally replied, "Both of you in the back. Martha can ride up front with us. It will be safer for her. Give her to me so we can get going. Mr Finleyson handed Martha over to him. He then said, "Please take good care of her. She's very special to me". He reassured Mr Finleyson that Martha would be well taken care of. Mr Finleyson and Gilbert got into the metal cage in the back of the police van. The two policemen got in the front of the van. The officer who wasn't holding Martha was the one driving. He started the engine and they drove off, heading for the local "Nick". Martha was sitting on the policeman's lap looking out of the window. She seemed to be enjoying herself. He was stroking her head as they travelled towards the police station. He turned to the policeman who was driving and said, "She's a cutie, isn't she? It's no wonder she's a champion. Puts all the other hens in the shade, doesn't she"? The driver said, "If you say so". They arrived at the nick and drove round the back where the cells were. It was now dark outside.

The policeman then said to both of them, "Come on, which one of you blew the raspberry at me"? The question was met with silence. He then said, "If neither one of you is going to own up, then I have no alternative but to arrest both of you. You are both under arrest. Stay where you are"! He went to the front of the 4x4 and called for back up on his radio. He went back over to the drivers window and told Mr Finleyson his partner was on the way from the bottom of the car park. He explained that you need two officers to make an arrest. A few minutes later his partner pulled up in a police Transit van. Another Robo looking cop got out of the van and walked towards his partner. The first policeman went to the front of the Land Rover again and conferred with his partner. It was ten minutes later when they walked over to Mr Finleyson's window. The first policeman said to Mr Finleyson, "Both of you are under arrest. You both have the right to remain silent etc. Now both of you get out of the vehicle and into back of the van. You will both be taken to the local police station for the night, then taken to court tomorrow morning. Do you both understand the charge of breach of the peace? Do you have anything to say to the charge"? Mr Finleyson replied, "I understand officer but what about the hens that are in the back and Martha here? It's been a long trip for them to get here and now a long day. I am worried about them. They need to be fed and watered. I also need to give them some fresh air and exercise. What's going to happen to them Officer"? He and Gilbert got out of the Land Rover at that point. Mr Finleyson had picked up Martha and was holding on to her. He became very worried about the welfare of Martha and his other eight hens. The policeman said to him, "we will cage up your hens and they will be taken with us to the police station, where they will go into the kennels at the back of the station, where they will be fed and watered. They will be well looked after, so you don't have to worry. They will go into a clean heated kennel. We look after animals all the time. You will get them back when you are bailed at court tomorrow. We will lock up your vehicle after we have caged up the hens. You'll get your keys back when you are ready to leave court, after your hearing. Someone will drive all of you back to your vehicle after court. Do you understand the procedure"? Mr Finleyson was holding Martha so tight her eyes were beginning to look bugged out! He did not want her to be put in the cage and then in a kennel for the night. What was he to do? He had never been apart from Martha and vice versa. She would be traumatised badly by being put in kennels. He had to say something to the policeman!

We were going to leave by way of the show grounds when you arrived. The hen you see sitting here on her cushion is Martha, my star hen and the reigning champion of Britain"! The policeman looked at him and said, "Everything seems to be in order sir, you can try to leave by the show grounds exit on the other side of the site"! Mr Finleyson, feeling relieved, replied, "Thank you officer. I'm sure I can find my way out". The policeman turned to leave. He walked towards the back of the Land Rover and before you knew it, Martha stood up, her little pink tongue came out of her beak and she visibly inhaled oxygen deeply into her lungs and then blew the loudest raspberry ever known to mankind just as the policeman passed the open window where she sat on her cushion. Mr Finleyson's heart momentarily stopped as he turned round in his seat to look at Gilbert, who was sitting there stunned, mouth hanging open and his eyes glazed over! Mr Finleyson broke out in a cold sweat. This was not the church or the minister Martha had blown the loud raspberry at, where the worse that could happen was a severe dressing down and a life ban! No, this was a lot more serious. This policeman looked like a cross between the Terminator and Robocop! He thought, Oh Martha, what have you done? Mr Finleyson looked towards the back of the 4x4. There stood the policeman, not moving, his back was still to them. He slowly turned round and began to walk back towards the front of the vehicle. When he got to the passenger's window where Martha sat, he kept walking towards the front, went round the bonnetand then walked to the drivers window where Mr Finleyson sat. He rolled down the window and said to the policeman, "Can I help you officer"? As he squirmed in his seat. The policeman replied, "That sound you made to me just now will not be tolerated." He then looked at Gilbert and said, "Or was it you who blew the raspberry at me"? Gilbert stared at Mr Finleyson, he did not know what to say!

Mr Finleyson said to Gilbert, "Turn around and look straight down to the bottom of the car park, the riot police have moved in and are arresting everyone they see! They're slinging the rioters into those Transit vans and the big blue transporters. We are going to have to make our move to drive out of here, via the show grounds, within the next few minutes, while the police are all down at the far end of the car park. If we go now we won't be spotted. It should be plain sailing all the way"! Mr Finleyson started the engine, put his foot on the clutch and into first gear. He was about to take his foot off the brake and slowly take his foot off the clutch, when there was a loud tap, tap, tap against the passengers window where Martha was. Both Mr Finleyson and Gilbert looked over at the window where the tapping was coming from. There stood a policeman in full riot gear, tapping on the window with the end of a baton. The sight of him startled Mr Finleyson, as he didn't see the policeman approach the Land Rover. Where did he come from and from what direction? He leaned over where Martha sat and rolled down the window and said to the policeman, "Can I help you officer"? The policeman said, "What are both of you doing here? And why is your Land Rover not destroyed like the rest of the vehicles in this car park"? He then said to Mr Finleyson, May I see your driving license and registration documents please"? While he rummaged about in the glove box looking for the registration, he noticed the policeman was staring down at Martha. All he could think of at that point was that Martha behaved herself. He saw her look up at the policeman and cock her head to one side, staring back at him with her little black, beady eyes. Mr Finleyson leaned over Martha and handed his license and registration documents to the policeman. He then said to him, "My name is Oliver Finleyson and I drove down here from Scotland, where I am a farmer and breeder of hens. I came here to show my hens in competition. In the back seat is a friend of mine and fellow breeder and competitor, Gilbert Davidson, who's also from Scotland. I arrived this morning to compete and I was registering my hens when the trouble started. Gilbert and I were caught up in the melee that took place." He paused and continued, "We ran for my Land Rover to hide abd take shelter from the rioters. We have been here all day! As you know every event and competition was cancelled early on."

Even though Mr Finleyson was starving, he still shared bits of the bread with Martha, as he had done since she was a chick. After they were all fed and watered, Mr Finleyson turned to Gilbert and said, "We have got to somehow get out of here. There must be a way out for us. We can't stay here all night! Do you have any suggestions Gilbert"? Gilbert replied, "Not really Oliver, we are trapped by all these decimated 4x4's. It will take weeks to clean up the show grounds and car park, not to mention how the authorities are going to manage to get all these vehicles to the Scrappy"! Gilbert continued, "The only way I can see for us to get out of here, is to drive through where the turnstile once was and through the show grounds to where the exit is for the day trippers and spectators. It's our only chance out of here! This is a heavy old solid Land Rover which has got plenty ground clearance and your mud terrain tyres will take us through the rough and uneven ground! You've got to try Oliver"!! As Mr Finleyson was about to reply to Gilbert, he noticed at the very bottom of the huge car park, that the riot police had moved in to round up the stray rioters and flush out the rest of them from ruined 4x4's they in which they were hiding. The riot police had parked all their Transit vans and lorry like transporters for the prisoners, on the perimeter of the car park.

"You're the best Martha! I have retired you a true champion. There's not a hen in Britain who has your beauty and poise. The other hens who compete are just mangy, flea ridden vermin who look like they're ready for the knackers yard!" He told Martha. He then turned to Gilbert, momentarily forgetting he was there, "Sorry Gilbert, no offense meant". Gilbert replied, "None taken Oliver'. Mr Finleyson then said, "I'm going to get out to feed the hens and Martha. Then she can run about for a few minutes. Stay here with her for a wee while." He got out of the Land Rover and went to the back and opened the tailgate. He noticed that all the rioting had taken place towards the middle and rear of the car park, so he was away from the mayhem that was still taking place around fifty yards from where his 4x4 was parked. He tiptoed back and forth with the two hen cages and set them down near where the turnstile once was. He fed and watered them and cleaned out the trays. This environment was not good for these eight hens. They would have to come out of the two cages. He went back to the Land Rover and spread an old blanket he carried with him in the very back of his long wheelbase 4x4. He took the cages back one by one and opened them, reaching inside and one by one he lifted the hens out and set them down to run around the back of the vehicle on the blanket. They could walk around and then settle down and sleep. He set the two cages on the roof rack of the Land Rover. He then went round the front and turned his attention to Martha. He lifted her off her cushion and carried her to a grassy area and put her down. He fed and watered her, then let her walk around stretching her little stick legs and pecking the ground as she walked. After ten minutes, he picked her up and carried her back to the 4x4, where he put her back on her cushion. He then dashed off to find some bushes in which to relieve himself. When he got back he told Gilbert where to go and also relieve himself. Gilbert got out and made a dash for the bushes. Mr Finleyson then remembered he had sandwiches and biscuits he had bought at the last petrol station he had stopped at. They would be going soggy, but Gilbert and himself were starving. He could eat a scabby horse if was offered to him! He also had a few cartons of Ribena to wash down the soggy sandwiches and stale biscuits. When Gilbert returned to the Land Rover, he relayed this information about the food to to him. Gilbert began to jump for joy at the prospect of eating something. At that point he did not care what condition it was in! He got back into the Land Rover. Mr Finleyson got into the drivers seat and reached under the seat and pulled out his piece bag. He opened it up and shared the food and the cartons of Ribena with Gilbert,they were both ravenous and scoffed the food and drink down in record time!

Other items strewn everywhere, were broken bottles, walking sticks, fence posts, chairs, tables, spectacles, hearing aids, wrist watches, pocket watches, zimmer frames, kettles, wigs and toupees were everywhere. Articles of shredded clothing, food of every variety was smashed into the ground and adorned the rioters. There was also a sea of popcorn on the ground, broken and smashed vending machines, spoons, forks and knives of every shape and size, cups, dishes, paper cups, paper plates, toilet rolls, rolls of paper towels, a few machetes, boots, brogues, hats, wellies, scarves, ripped and torn jumpers and jackets, a sea broken and smashed mobile phones, a few pairs of colourful trews, dozens of "see you Jimmy" wigs, etc etc. You name it, it was lying on the ground, smashed, broken, ripped, shredded, dirty, muddy, covered in sawdust and food. What a sight. It looked like a war zone! Animal Control moved in along with half a dozen vets to sedate the bulls. They were still charging about in a disoriented manner. The bulls were isolated by Animal Control, to one part of the car park and the vets began firing the sedation darts at them. The darts they used could bring a Rhinoceros down and the bulls began to fall one by one, until they were all sedated. That was the easy part. The hard part would be to get them safely into the horse boxes. This was done by using a powerful winch. Each horsebox was equipped with a winch. The winching of the bulls into the ten horseboxes was being done simultaneously. Before long all the bulls were safely in the horseboxes, still out cold. It would take time for the sedation to wear off! Martha watched intently at everything going on around them. Her little black, beady eyes wide with excitement. She could hardly contain herself. The little stick legs shuffled back and forth. Mr Finleyson turned and said to Gilbert, who had dozed off and was snoring, "Gilbert, wake up! I need to feed and water the hens and clean their cage trays out.Martha needs water and food also. Not to mention she needs a few minutes outside for fresh air and exercise. I also need the toilet as I suppose you will too. I'm not sure where we can go that's safe"! Gilbert groggily replied, "You're right Oliver, we need to get out and find somewhere safe and quiet. What are we going to do about food? I'm starving! We never did make it to the food stalls for lunch due to the fighting erupting everywhere"! With a shrug he continued, "What a lousy day this turned out to be. I'm never coming back here again. Everybody's gone insane and we got caught in the middle"! Mr Finleyson replied, "I'll let you into a little secret, this was to be my last show, win or lose. I was to retire after today's show and enjoy what's left of my life. As it has turned out, because of the riots and with all the judging cancelled, Martha retires at the top. There is not a hen in Britain who can rival her winning record. He looked fondly at Martha, patting her lovingly on top of her head!

The riot police and regular police force were in the main show grounds trying to bring the riot under control. There were now three police helicopters circling the show grounds and car park, relaying information to the police on the ground. They had to call for back up from police forces far and wide. There were a fleet of police cars and police Transit vans parked everywhere, as all the show grounds fences had been ripped apart and used to beat each other! The riot police moved forward shoulder to shoulder, each holding a baton in one hand and a metal shield in the other, The regular police force were behind them, carrying tasers and wearing belts filled with pepper spray and CS gas canisters. They moved in on the rioters, pushing them forward towards the car park so they could contain them and round them all up! Every single one of the breeders, farmers, rioters, looters and any stray day trippers who were left standing, got their "collars felt"! Some of the looting rioters lashed out at the police. They were tasered and got a face full of pepper spray for their troubles. Other were beaten to the ground with batons and then slung into the backs of police vans, then taken to police stations all over Norfolk, booked and thrown into cells for the night! The sheer number of the rioters and brawling breeders and farmers far outnumbered the police and riot squads. As the police eventually surrounded the rioters who had run amok in the show grounds, they were all pushed into the car park where they were met by angry charging bulls. The police helicopters radioed down to their fellow officers, telling them to take cover back in the main show grounds, wherever they could. The police helicopters radioed headquarters and asked for Animal Control specialists to be drafted in to get the bulls under control. Animal Control for dangerous animals eventually arrived. The car park was now out of bounds for the police until Animal Control got the bulls rounded up and sedated with tranquilizer guns. The police took cover in the main show grounds in their patrol cars and vans, waiting for Animal Control to rid the car park of the angry and vicious bulls. Then they would go in and arrest everyone they came across! Animal Control parked next to the police vehicles. They came in ten large horse boxes. Each would hold four bulls. Since the car park was littered with so many demolished 4x4's, bulls rampaging around the car park, terrorising the rioters, non rioting breeders, farmers and male day trippers, not to mention all the mangled doors, twisted tailgates and smashed windscreens.

Mr Finleyson, Martha and Gilbert had watched the melee from the locked Land Rover. They hunched down in their seats so not to be seen. Martha couldn't be seen sitting on her cushion . She knew something was going on outside and was itching to join in. She was clucking, hissing and blowing raspberries very loudly. She was swaying from side to side on her cushion and bobbing her head up and down in excitement.

A stamede of at least forty angry , agitated, bulls, weighing in at least two tons each, hurled themselves towards the rioters at full speed, with nostrils flared, shooting flames from their noses! Their eyes were red with fury and they wanted the blood of the rioters. Mr Finleyson, Martha and Gilbert had fled through the turnstile and were hiding in the Land Rover. Mr Finleyson could not drive away, as he was blocked in by thousands of Range Rovers, Discovery's and defenders. It was like the car park of a production plant! Mr Finleyson turned to Gilbert and said, "It's like being at the drive-in movies watching "High Noon". Gilbert replied, "You said it Oliver! Don't usually get excitement where I live! Who thought the "carrot crunchers" would behave like this?" Mr Finleyson chuckled and looked over at Martha. She was standing on her cushion looking out the window at all the mayhem that was occurring all around them! Her little black beady eyes were shining with excitement. As the angry two ton bulls stampeded towards the rioters, they stopped beating the shit out of each other, and ran for their lives towards the turnstile. The problem was a few hundred of them all tried to get through the turnstile at once. They all got stuck as they piled in. Finally they sent the turnstile crashing to the ground, making the entrance wide enough for the rioters to escape to the car park and the angry stampeding bulls to follow them! As the rioters and bulls ran amok in the car park. The rioters smashed their way into the luxury 4x4's to get away from the stampeding bulls. They used whatever weapon they carried, to smash windscreens and windows and to prise the doors open. They then looted the 4x4 before jumping in to take cover! Colin Brown didn't need weapons to smash his way in. He just wrenched the doors of the Range Rovers off their hinges, and flung them at the charging bulls. He then began to rip the front seats out and also hurl them at the angry charging bulls! It stopped the bulls in their tracks momentarily, before they changed course and began running in a different direction. When the rioters saw Colin wrenching the doors off the Range Rovers, and flinging them and the seats at the stampeding bulls. They all decided to join in. Before you knew it, there were doors and tailgates being wrenched off every 4x4 they came across and flung them at the bulls, not to mention the front and back seats sailing through the air. There was mayhem and chaos everywhere for as far as the eye could see! It wasn't long before every Range Rover, Discovery, and Defender were destroyed by rioters and stampeding bulls! Not one 4x4 had a windscreen, door, tailgate or seats left on them! That didn't stop the rioters from taking cover in the destroyed shell like 4x4. They would just lie down on the floor in the backs of the vehicles to hide from the rampaging animals! The car park now resembled a scrap yard for luxury 4x4's. There were more than enough of these vehicles to go round. The Range Rovers were the biggest and strongest ones to hide in, so they thought. As the bulls charged into the the 4x4's, they sent them crashing into each other! It didn't look like a car park anymore but resembled the aftermath of a demolition derby! Every single Range Rover, Land Rover Discovery or Land Rover Defender was destroyed beyond recognition, except Mr Finleyson's thirty year old Defender. For some reason the rioters and the bulls did not go near it! Probably thought it had been destroyed along with the rest of them!

As by now Colin was fighting with four men who had joined in after Colin had thrown old Bertie into the pig pen! The man who had run over to help Colin and had smashed a chair over the heads of each of the men who had restrained Colin, was being pummeled by three other men who had decided to join in! Colin laid into the four men, leaving them on the ground unconscious and covered in blood. He ran over to help his mate who was lying on the ground being set upon by these three men. Colin grabbed each man from behind and one by one, systematically punched them into the next millennium! By now a full scale riot had broken out. Around one hundred and fifty elderly competitors were knocking the shit out of each other! Gilbert and Mr Finleyson tried to make it to the turnstile, so they could take cover in the Land Rover. Gilbert turned to Mr Finleyson and said, "I guess the judging is off and so is our lunch. Run for the turnstile. Lets get the hell out of here"! Mr Finleyson replied, "Good idea. If we get separated, meet me at my Land Rover. Let's go for it now! Good luck, try to skirt the riot so you go unnoticed"! They both tried to tiptoe towards the turnstile as the riot was now in full swing. Men from other areas of the show grounds had got wind of the riot and took off running towards it! All judging in every category and in every breed of animal was officially cancelled. This was announced over the tannoy. All the day trippers fled for their lives, dragging their children along by their arms! It didn't take long for the entire show grounds to be engaged in rioting! Security guards from all over the show grounds were running this way and that way trying to control the rioting. They all got knocked to the ground for their efforts! The riot police were on their way. Police helicopters were already circling the show grounds, ordering the riots to cease on their helicopter loudspeakers! Those who had heard it looked up at the helicopter and gave them the finger! Food stalls had been ripped apart and looted, with the rioters throwing food at each other. The rioters were running around covered in mayo, ketchup, mustard, custard, whipped cream, relish, chilli and eggs, as they had raided the hen tent, stealing all the eggs and throwing them or smashing them over each other's heads! There were two men hitting each other with candy floss. It looked like handbags at dawn! Chairs were broken up and used to beat each other along with tables. Fence posts ripped out of the ground and used as weapons. The stages that were dotted around the show grounds for the competitions, were dismantled and used as shields against rioters wielding wooden and steel fence posts! The elderly breeders and farmers were beating each other with their walking sticks. A few had zimmer frames they smashed over each other's heads! They were rolling around on the ground ten deep, arms flailing, fists flying, covered in food and sawdust, clothes ripped to shreds, glasses broken, hearing aids ripped out of their ears, comb-overs hanging on their shoulders on one side. False teeth torn out of their mouths, toupees ripped from their heads and trampled on covered in mud and sawdust! It was like a pitched battle. Every vendors stall and every solid object within the show grounds was torn apart, smashed to smithereens, looted and used in any way possible to inflict the maximum damage to each other! Old Bertie was still lying in the pig pen, covered in pig shit with the pigs resting their heads on his body. He was still crying for help. Still no one came to help him! Colin Brown was still in the think of it, fists flying, men being thrown through the air by him, landing in the show animals holding pens. The rioters had let most of the animals our of their pens and they were all running amok. But worse still to come when some asshole decided it would be a clever move to let the bulls out of their holding pens. Before the rioters knew what was happening, the bulls started to stampede towards them, near what used to be the registration

Mr Finleyson sat down behind the wheel. He once again turned round in his seat and said to Gilbert, "What did you think of what just happened? Old Bertie deserved that punch on the nose. Rounding on Colin and verbally abusing him was not a very smart move on Bertie's part. You don't mess with Colin Brown if you want to remain standing"! Gilbert replied, "You're right Oliver, but the irony is that Colin did not touch Bertie's lousy jumper. He is innocent in all of this. We know who the culprit is". He leaned forward to look in Martha's direction. "Don't worry Oliver, your secret is safe with me"! The two men just stared at Martha, who stared back with her cocked to one side, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Mr Finleyson turned to Gilbert and said, "I'm starving. We've missed lunch. How about us going back into the show grounds and making our way to where the food stalls are"? Gilbert replied, "Good idea Oliver, what about Martha and the other hens"? "The hens in the cages", said Mr Finleyson, "will be fine, for all the time we will be gone. I'll just bring Martha with us. I'll just pop on the carrier I made for her. Let's get organised to go"! They both got out of the Land Rover. Mr Finleyson went round to the back and opened the tailgate and took what looked like an old flannel shirt. It was some sort of sling he had made using three old flannel shirts that had seen better days. He had cut the sleeves off and sewn, by hand, the body of the shirts together, making a large pouch. He had then made a long strap from the sleeves and attached it to the pouch. It didn't look pretty but it did the job! Mr Finleyson had always recycled for longer than he cared to remember. He recycled before it became popular. He saw no point in wasting anything or spending money when he didn't have to. He put the contraption on and reached in and picked up Martha from her cushion. He put her on the ground for a few minutes to stretch her little stick legs and do her business. She walked around, pecking the ground along the way. After ten minutes, he picked her up and popped her into the flannel pouch. You could just see her beak and little black, beady eyes peering out at the world. This way his hands were free to eat and have a cup of coffee. The three of them set off towards the turnstile to re-enter the show grounds. Mr Finleyson was wondering why there had been no announcement over the tannoy, informing the competitors,the judging was about to start. He found that strange as it was after 12:00 p.m. The competition was easily behind schedule. As soon as they went through the turnstile, they heard an almighty uproar. While they had been away for around twenty minutes, all hell had broken loose! After Colin Brown had punched old Bertie in the face, sending him crashing to the ground, via the registration table, which he took with him to the ground, a couple of men in the next queue had helped old Bertie to his feet, while another two men behind Colin each grabbed one of his arms, pinning them behind his back. Bertie, now standing after being helped to his feet by the two men in the next queue. With Colin's arms pinned behind his back, Bertie flew at him, knocking him to the ground along with the two men restraining Colin! They all fell backwards, landing on the dirt floor, which was covered in sawdust. One of Colin's mates standing three queues away, saw what had happened and ran over to help Colin. He picked up one of the folding chairs at the long table and smashed it over the heads of the two men who had restrained Colin! Colin jumped up and grabbed old Bertie and lifted him above his head and threw him as far as he could through the air. Old Bertie landed in the pig pen on the other side of the long table! Working on the rigs had made Colin stronger than most men. Even at his advancing years, he could outrun, outfight and was fitter then a man half his age! Colin was afraid of nobody! The years of brawling in pubs left him with a fierce reputation throughout Scotland. He never ran from a fight but was always the first to jump right in! He was now in his element! Old Bertie was now covered in foul smelling pig shit as he lay on his back, unable to move, as one of the pigs was sitting on him! His clothes were ripped and caked in pig shit! His back was aching from landing on it. He reckoned Colin had broken his back. He lay there calling for help. No one came to his rescue!

Mr Finleyson and Gilbert stared at each other in disbelief. Martha became excited, her little, black beady eyes full of mischief and fire! She started to screech and rock back and forth violently, trying to break free from Mr Finleyson's death like grip. He turned to Gilbert and said, "I don't know how much longer I can hold onto Martha." He then looked Gilbert squarely in the eyes and said, "The shit is about to hit the fan. Run for cover!" Both of them and Martha siddled towards the car park. They beat a hasty retreat through the turnstile and ran to Mr Finleyson's Land Rover, parked right at the front, close to the turnstile. Mr Finleyson opened the door and got in, setting Martha down on her cushion. Gilbert opened the back door and got in. Mr Finleyson turned in his seat and said to Gilbert, "What about my hens in the holding pen, in the tent near the registration area?" Gilbert said to him, "Don't worry, they should be ok. Everyone who is competing in the hen category will have their hens in the hen tent. If you want me to go and cage them up and bring them back while you stay here with Martha. I will go now if that will put your mind at ease? I don't mind. I will be happy to go and get them." Mr Finleyson said to Gilbert, "Thank you Gil, I really appreciate your offer but I don't want to put you to any trouble." Gilbert replied, "It isn't any trouble Oliver, it will only take me ten minutes at most." Mr Finleyson replied, "Go ahead then, I would feel better if they were safely back in the Land Rover with us!" Gilbert then opened the back door and got out and headed back towards the turnstile, leaving Mr Finleyson with Martha. The turnstile was only around fifteen feet from the Land Rover. Gilbert disappeared through it. Mr Finleyson sat and waited with Martha. After around fifteen minutes he saw Gilbert emerge carrying one of the cages. He set it down on the ground and went back for the other cage. He emerged with the second cage a minute later. Mr Finleyson felt relief. He got out of his 4x4 and went to give Gilbert a hand carrying one of the cages. They both walked back to the Land Rover, each carrying a cage with the other hens. They put the cages in the back of the vehicle. Mr Finleyson fed and watered the hens before shutting the tailgate. He also fed and watered Martha before getting back in the Land Rover.

Back in Norwich at the show grounds, old Bertie has taken off his jumper to have a look at the missing back. He sees it and starts shouting and reels from the shock of seeing a big gap where the back used to be. He then begins shouting how his beloved mother had knitted the jumper fortyfive years ago! Mr Finleyson and Gilbert, having already registered, are standing off to the side of the registration table watching old Bertie throw a hissy fit over his crappy old jumper. Mr Finleyson is having to hold onto Martha with all his might as she has become agitated and bolshy over the sight of old Bertie, who she cannot stand because he had taken her bowl of food the year before at a competition, to give to his hens. He had also chased her out of her holding pen, where she had become separated from the other hens which belonged to Mr Finleyson. She had hated the sight of old Bertie ever since. She has never forgotten or forgiven what he did to her. She is trying to break free from Mr Finleyson's tight grip on her. She begins to hiss and blow raspberries as loud as she could manage, which drew attention to her and Mr Finleyson from the competitors who stood in the queues, still waiting to register. A few of the men in the queues gave her disapproving looks. She acknowledged their derisory looks by sticking out her little tongue and letting rip with a long and loud raspberry! Mr Finleyson just stood there holding onto Martha and smiling at everyone. He felt a bit uncomfortable with Martha's unbridled behavior! Old Bertie still stood at the registration table shouting and arguing with the woman seated at the long table. He was holding up the queue and the men in his queue were becoming impatient and angry with Bertie. Nobody cared about his lousy jumper! It was at that point old Bertie turned around and saw Colin Brown standing behind him. All of a sudden he turned on Colin and pointed at him, shouting, "You old bastard, you did this to my jumper! " Old Bertie was still holding on to the remains of his jumper when he rounded on Colin. He held it up to Colin's face to show him the back was missing. Before Colin could respond, old Bertie threw the jumper in his face and began shouting and swearing at him! Colin peeled the tattered jumper off his face and said to old Bertie, "Who do you think you are accusing me and assaulting me with that moth eaten rag, and where do you come off shouting at me and calling me a bastard?" "I don't suffer fools gladly and you're the biggest fool here!" Before Bertie could respond, Colin punched him right in the face, sending Bertie crashing onto the registration table, where all the women sitting there scattered! The long table collapsed, sending Bertie crashing to the ground!

He had to really pull hard on the driver's door to get it open. He got in and unzipped his jacket and took Martha out and set her down on her cushion, which he had carried out of the church with him. He put the space heater on and started up the Land Rover. It turned over at the first attempt. They sat there letting the engine warm up. He de-iced the windscreen but the rest of the windows were frozen solid. It was like being in a tunnel of frozen snow! As they sat there waiting for the 4x4 to defrost, he mused over the night's events which had occurred. What a night it had been! Martha hissing and blowing raspberries in church, no service took place, he was blamed by his fellow parishioners, ordered into the minister's office to his utter embarrassment and mortification, was given a severe dressing down by the minister, who he had regarded as a friend for years but now realises that the minister is nothing but an egotistic, arrogant, self-important, dour, pompous gasbag with no sense of humour! Mr Finleyson then thought of his parents. He was at that moment glad they were dead, because what had occurred tonight would surely have killed them! He could not wait to get home to his warm and toasty house, where the roaring Aga and the Inglenook fireplace awaited them. He shook his head and smiled. He glanced at his watch, it was now 3:45 a.m. As he put the clutch in with his left foot and put it into first gear. The roads would be treacherous, so he put the auxiliary four wheel drive on and very slowly took his foot off the clutch and the Land Rover started to take off. The road was like a skating rink. He could feel the back of the 4x4 swing out. The worse thing you could do was to hit the brakes on black ice. Even driving a 4x4 was not making a blind bit of difference. He had actually driven on worse roads than this in his long driving career. The 4x4 started to skid sideways. He turned into the skid, taking his foot off the clutch and throttle pedal. He down shifted, the 4x4 straightened itself up. He was doing five mph and he drove like this all the way home. All fifteen miles! There were an assortment of abandoned cars littered along the verge and in ditches on the roadside. As he neared the entrance to his farm, it was still dark. He checked his watch again. It read 4:45 a.m. It had taken him an hour to drive the fifteen miles to his farm from the village! Martha was asleep. What a bloody disaster of a night it had been. Since he usually got up to start his days work on the farm at 5:00 a.m., there was no point in going to his bed. He would put Martha in her bed in front of the warm Aga, so she could get a few hours sleep. He would then go upstairs and take a long, hot bath, then put on fresh clothes and begin his day. He would have breakfast and his usual two cups of hot strong coffee, rebuild the fire in the Inglenook fireplace, restock the Aga with wood to keep it going for the day. As it was so cold, he put logs in the wood burning stove which was in the dining room. He would leave the door to the dining room open to circulate the heat. Tom would be here at 6:00 a.m. to give him a hand for the day. He would let Martha have a long lie without being disturbed. He had missed sharing his cereal and toast with Martha but there was always tomorrow. Today was Christmas day but to Mr Finleyson it was just another day of working the farm. He would send Tom home early to have Christmas dinner, while he and Martha watched the Queen's speech to the nation. His mind drifted back to last night and he realised the night had not been a total disaster after all. It had turned out to be a very merry Christmas, thanks to Martha!!

As he emerged once again into the church, he noticed that the majority of the congregation had gone home, except for maybe half a dozen old boys scattered around the church asleep in the pews, snoring loudly. At that point he burst out laughing and said to Martha, "You little rascal, you did well back there. You showed that pompous bastard!" After enduring the minister's draconian and boring lecture, he found himself understanding why only Dougal Menzies' cattle and sheep attended church, standing in the aisles chewing their cud! Mr Finleyson then put his scarf, hat, Donkey jacket and gloves on, then put on Martha's bonnet, cape and her scarf that he always carried around in his jacket pocket for when the weather dropped below zero. Martha had an array of wool scarves that Miss Daniels from the pet shop knitted for her. They hung neatly on the coat rack in the hall of his house. Once they were wrapped up well, he gave Martha a big hug and twirled her round and round as he danced her down the aisle towards the door doing an'Eightsome Reel'! He then opened the door and stepped outside. It was the middle of the night. He was not prepared for the freezing cold that that hit him. It literally took his breath away! He wrapped his scarf around his face, just his eyes exposed. He wrapped Martha's little scarf around her face with only her little black, beady eyes shining out into the darkness. He then tucked Martha inside his jacket for extra warmth and protection from the elements. He then zipped his jacket back up to where Martha's chin was. It must be -15ºc but what made it worse was the frost which had frozen the snow and it was blowing a gale, which made the air temperature feel as if it was -30º with the wind chill factor taken into account! It was still dark and there was no one going about. He turned to walk to his Land Rover which would be frozen solid! He would have to use the can of de-icer on his windscreen. As the heater in the Land Rover had stopped working years ago, he had a small portable space heater that would actually heat the inside of his vehicle faster than a car heater would. Mr Finleyson's boots made crunching sounds as he walked towards his 4x4 on the

"How could you blame an innocent hen? Is that the best excuse you could come up with?" He was beginning to shout at Mr Finleyson. "Since you have been in my office, Martha has sat there quietly making no noise whatsoever! If it had been her, she would have continued her verbal assault on me in my office. Not a peep has she made! Shame on you Oliver for blaming poor Martha. It would not surprise me to learn that when you break wind in public, you blame poor Martha here." He then reaches out and pats Martha on her head. "It pains me to tell you that you are now banned from this church for life and all the activities connected with this church. Do you understand Oliver? " Mr Finleyson then replied, "Yes, I fully understand " The minister, still pacing up and down, then began pontificating about the virtues of society and today's young folk! He then went behind his desk and stood looking out of the window with his back to Mr Finleyson. That was his way of letting Mr Finleyson know he was being dismissed like a naughty schoolboy, in seeing the headmaster. Mr Finleyson got up out of his chair while holding onto Martha. He again looked at the clock and noticed that it was now 2:40 a.m. He could not wait to get out of the church and go home to his bed. Even Martha's beady little eyes looked droopy. He walked to the door and opened it. Just as he was about to go through the door, Martha blew the loudest raspberry towards the minister's back. He had never heard her blow a raspberry that loud! It was like Martha had brought be raspberry up from the deepest recesses of her bowels! Her little tongue had remained stuck out for longer than usual to maximise the loudness and length of the raspberry! He ran out before the minister*s reaction.

hose who were still awake, turned round to stare at him as he picked Martha up and uncovered her eyes by pulling her bonnet up, so she could see. He picked up his scarf, hat, Donkey jacket and Martha's little cape. He left the cushion on the pew. As he and Martha walked up the aisle towards the minister's office, he could feel the hostile stares of the congregation that were still awake. He actually felt as if he had done something wrong, with the reaction he was getting from his fellow parishioners. How could Martha do this to him, he thought as he neared the minister's office, which was situated through the altarpiece which was above the pulpit area. The door to the office was closed. He knocked softly and waited. After what seemed like hours, he heard the minister say, "Come in." Mr Finleyson obliged and entered the office. The minister then said without looking up from his desk where he was seated. "Shut the door and sit down Oliver" He sat down and put Martha on his lap and removed her little bonnet. The minister had conducted services, married the young and buried the old since he had taken up the post as a young man. He was eightysix years old, so it meant he had been the minister at the village church for over sixty years. He had even buried Mr Finleyson's parents. He was a real family man. His wife was still alive and he had five middle aged children, twentyone grandchildren and seven great grandchildren. He lived at the manse in the village. Mr Finleyson had always regarded him as a pompous windbag with a double barreled name! The minister stood up and began pacing the room, as if he was in the pulpit preaching. All of a sudden he felt five years old. The minister stopped pacing and stood there looking directly at him and Martha, and began to speak. "Oliver, I am disappointed in you. We have known each other since we were young men. I have always respected you and I felt that you respected me, but tonight's blasphemous outburst leaves me in no doubt that either you have lost your mind or you have been drinking! You have ruined my Christmas service, aggrieved your fellow parishioners, and brought shame on yourself. Your father was a much respected elder of this church for over fifty years and your mother taught Sunday school for over forty years. It is my understanding that you were baptised in this church, attended Sunday school until you were old enough to attend services every Sunday. You have been an active member of this church for as long as I have known you! Your fellow parishioners have always regarded you highly. You have lent a helping hand when needed, not to mention your involvement with the choir. How could you have behaved so disgracefully tonight? What do you have to say for yourself Oliver? " Mr Finleyson looked at the clock behind the minister and noticed it was now 1:45 a.m. He guessed that there would be no midnight mass this year! He was actually relieved, as the minister's sermons were painfully boring, just as he was. Mr Finleyson was tired and just wanted to go home and get to his bed. He hoped the minister was not going to resort to his filibuster tactics and keep him there all night. He was trying to think of what to say to defend himself. He finally looked at the minister and said, "I cannot lie, it was not me who was hissing and blowing raspberries at you, it was Martha who was sitting on her cushion next to me that you heard but could not see. She learned how to hiss from the geese on my farm and how to blow raspberries from the parrot at the pet shop. I'm very sorry Martha ruined your service, but what she did, she did because she is a hen who does not know any better. She was not being personal and hisses and blows raspberries at everyone she sees " The minister stared at him through narrowed eyes and with a raised voice, he reproached him angrily and said, "What kind of a dunderhead do you take me for? Do you really think I would believe that it was Martha making these noises?"

s the minister once began his, "The true meaning of Christmas" sermon, a loud raspberry rang out through the church! Once again the congregation all turned round to glance at Mr Finleyson, shake their heads and say "Shush"! The minister's face was like thunder as he glared at him. He felt like a naughty schoolboy just before the headmaster rapped your knuckles with his ruler! It did not help the minister's temper when the same children and young folk once again burst out laughing and were practically rolling in the aisles! Mr Finleyson did not know where to look and squirmed in his seat. He gave Martha a disapproving look and whispered to her, "Please be quiet. You are going to land me in big trouble"! Martha turned to look at him with mischief in her little black beady eyes and stuck out her tongue at him and let rip a loud raspberry again! She then began swaying from side to side, which meant she was enjoying what she was doing! He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him! It was now 12:15 a.m. and the minister was yet to begin his sermon! Martha then began hissing and blowing raspberries intermittently. There were loud murmurs mixed with fits of laughter throughout the congregation. The minister looked as if he were going to burst! His face was bright red and contorted with rage. He glared at Mr Finleyson. The only other thing Mr Finleyson could think of was to pull the front of Martha's bonnet down over her eyes so she would go to sleep. It seemed to work! It was now 12:30 as the minister once again began his carefully prepared and boring sermon. "The true meaning of Christmas". He began by telling the congregation how Christmas came about with the birth of the baby Jesus in the stable in a manger. He was in full flow about the baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph and the three wise men, when a loud hiss, followed by a loud raspberry rang out and seemed to reverberate around the church for hours before Martha continued her torrent of rude and abusive gestures of hissing and blowing raspberries! This was the final straw for the minister. He could take no more. It was now 1:00 a.m. and most of the congregation were now asleep, with the elderly snoring loudly! The minister pointed to Mr Finleyson from the pulpit and shouted angrily at him with such rage in his voice that he was stuttering and spitting all over the front row, who were asleep and did not notice. He said, "Oliver, in my office right now"!!

s Martha felt the cold,he had bought Martha a little, bright red Gortex cape with a faux fur lining and a matching bonnet, to keep her as warm as toast for the long winter months. The little matching bonnet tied under her beak. All you saw was her little shining, black beady eyes and beak peering back at you! Whenever Mr Finleyson put the little cape and bonnet on Martha she became very excited, as she knew they were going somewhere. As soon as he walked towards her with the cape and bonnet in his hand, she would start to dance. Her little stick legs were a blur. The church that night was full to the rafters. There was always a big turn out for the midnight service. The rest of the year the heathens who masqueraded as the locals, never went near the church. It was always empty on a Sunday except for the church elders and a few of old Dougal Menzies' stray cows and sheep who would wander in and stand in the aisles while the minister, Robert Duncan-Smith, delivered the sermon. As the elders of the church sat in the front row sleeping, the minister was grateful for the cows and sheep which would stand in the aisles throughout the service and stay awake and listen to his carefully prepared sermon. The pew Mr Finleyson and Martha sat in was a short pew by the door and only able to seat three people. As Martha sat on her cushion beside Mr Finleyson, there was only room for one more person. No one wanted to sit beside Martha for some reason and just looked and walked on to find somewhere else to sit. Finally, everyone was seated. As the minister stepped up to the pulpit a loud hissing reverberated throughout the church. As it had come from Martha in the back pew, everyone turned round to stare disapprovingly at Mr Finleyson, with Martha sitting on her cushion beside him and with the pews in rows in front of her, she could not be seen by the congregation when they turned round. Even the minister who glared at Mr Finleyson from the pulpit, could not see Martha. It looked as if he was sitting on his own. The young teens and children in the congregation were in fits of laughter! Mr Finleyson was horrified at what Martha had done. It was far too cold to put her in the Land Rover. She would have to stay in the church.

Thelma also keeps trying to teach Martha to swear. Thelma can out swear any person, man or woman in Britain! Fortunately for Mr Finleyson and the inhabitants of the highlands, this is one skill Martha will never accomplish. It was bad enough hearing Thelma in full flow whenever they entered the pet shop but the thought of Martha swearing like Thelma, at everyone she encountered, made him shudder! He stood and imagined Martha at Tesco' s doing the Charleston on an upturned apple crate in the produce section, surrounded by admiring customers and staff who had gathered to see her dance, when all of a sudden, Martha starts hissing, blowing raspberrie's and effing and blinding at everyone in the produce section, including children! Her hissing and raspberry blowing was now out of control and very embarrassing for Mr Finleyson at times. He had witnessed Thelma shouting and swearing in the pet shop and Miss Daniels' customers fleeing the shop with their lips pinned back in terror, knocking each other to the ground to get away from the belligerent Thelma! Mr Finleyson was still reeling from being banned for life from his local church because of Martha last Christmas, when they attended midnight mass, as they did every year. As it was now September, and not even a year had passed, he was still upset by the incident and the fact that he could not attend midnight mass and the festivities leading up to Christmas and the New year, made him sad. He had never in his life missed midnight mass, nor was excluded from the choir and lending a helping hand. The incident which took place, that ended with a life ban, occurred last Christmas eve when he and all the villagers attended midnight mass at the local church. Since the church and it's parishioners did not conform to the constraints of a big town or a large city's parochial ways, so they could do things their way. It was not uncommon to see an array of pets and farm animals attending this service with their owners as long as they were well behaved and not a nuisance to the other parishioners, they were welcome in the church by the minister himself Mr Finleyson had taken Martha for five years without incident. This year was different though, Martha had learned to hiss and blow raspberry's since the year before's midnight mass! They entered the church at 11:45 pm, and sat at the very back pew which was on the right of the entrance door. It had been freezing out all week, with heavy snowfalls which had frozen solid, causing chaos on the roads and blocking access to outlying farms. Snowploughs were working round the clock. Those snowed in on the outlying and remote farms came into the village to attend the service on snow mobiles and tractors. Mr Finleyson was grateful of the churches efficient central heating. The warmth enveloped them as they came in through the door. He and Martha settled into the back pew and he took off his hat, scarf and heavy donkey jacket which had seen better days. Like · · Promote · Share

Martha just looked at Mr Finleyson, her black beady eyes were full of anger and mischief, the likes of which he had never seen before! He said to Martha, "I know you can't stand old Bertie after he stole your bowl of food but you just have to ignore him. I do not want anything to happen to you. There's no telling what he would do to you if he found out it was you who unravelled the back of his jumper"! Martha turned to him, and for the first time, she hissed at Mr Finleyson. She had learned how to hiss from the geese on his farm! She had never hissed at him before. Everyone else including all the hens on his farm she had. He was quite taken aback, and just said to her, "That was not very ladylike Martha. I am holding on to you for your own good. Stop trying to break free. We are not home on the farm where you can boss everyone about! Trust me, this is for your own good"! Martha always liked to have her own way and Mr Finleyson had always pandered to her every whim. She had learned how to blow raspberries from the parrot who belonged to the owner of the pet shop, Miss Daniels, who brought her parrot, Thelma, to the shop with her every day. Thelma and Martha got on like a house on fire. Thelma was a bad influence on her. Martha liked to strut around the farm and village hissing and blowing raspberries at every animal and person she came in contact with!

When he saw that the back was missing, he reeled backwards, grabbing his heart. He shouted to the woman, "My old Mum knitted this jumper for me fortyfive years ago for my Christmas present! Not only is it my best jumper but my old Mum is gone and passed away twenty years ago. The jumper is all I have left of her"! He looked up towards the sky and shouted, still grabbing his heart, "More over Mum, I'm about to join you. Hurry up and take me, my heart is broken Mum"! Mr Finleyson and Gilbert were standing off to the side, watching and listening to old Bertie's drama queen outburst. They both looked at each other, knowing it was Martha who had caused the damage to Bertie's jumper, by pecking it apart. Old Bertie could not find this out as he would go ballistic and strangle Martha! Mr Finleyson said to Gilbert, "Pretend you're as shocked and upset as Bertie. Don't ever tell him it was Martha"! Gilbert then replied, "Don't worry Oliver, your secret is safe with me. I know what that miserable old bastard is capable of. Who cares about his old moth eaten jumper. And as far as his mother knitting it, well I say, big fucking deal. I remember her from when I was in Primary school. She used to cuff me about my ears for taking a short cut through her garden. She was a miserable old bitch"! Martha was all excited and swaying from side to side and kicking her little stick legs about as Mr Finleyson held on to her tightly! Martha was a fiesty hen. She was fiesty as a chick. She could also be quite fierce if you crossed her. All the hens on the farm tiptoed around Martha! She could tear them a new asshole if they crossed her! She was like a kung fu fighter when she got going and it took Mr Finleyson all his strength to hold onto her at the moment, because Martha was trying to break free to tear old Bertie a new asshole. She could not stand old Bertie, as she had never forgotten the time a couple of years ago when they were all at a competition and Bertie had chased her out of her pen and taken her bowl of food and given it to his own hens. She always quite agitated when she saw him, hence her destroying his lousy jumper! She was now clucking and screeching loudly like a banshee, her head bobbing up and down like a cockatoo! He told her to calm down and behave herself!

It was then the woman who was helping him to register, opened her big mouth to the agitated and irate Bertie. She was heard telling him; "Please Mr McPhee, calm down " She shouted, "Those are not wrist bands you are wearing, but your jumper sleeves which have fallen off!" Bertie looked closely at his hands and wrists, then shouted at the woman; "What's happened to my jumper? Why have the sleeves fallen off"? "This is my best jumper!" He yelled. The registration woman told old Bertie to turn round, which he did. She then shouted back at him; "Mr McPhee, the back of your jumper seems to be missing as well"! Bertie then shouted, "Are you taking the piss lady"? "What do you mean missing? It was there when I put the jumper on this morning"! "Take it off and have a look if you don't believe me"! Said the woman indignantly. Old Bertie dutifully took off what remained of his jumper to have a closer look at the missing back.

Mr Finleyson had to nip out to his Land Rover to display a plastic card he was given at registration, on his dashboard, which identified him as a show competitor, therefore allowed to park in the competitors car park. He headed to the vast car park to find his Land Rover. He was clutching Martha as he made his way there. Once at his vehicle, he put the plastic parking badge onto the dashboard. He then went to the back and fed and watered Martha. When he was finished, he was about to head back to the competitors tent to display another badge he was given and check up on his other hens to make sure they were okay and had plenty of water and feed. As he was parked close to the entrance of the show grounds, it was no bother to nip back and forth to his vehicle. Before he went through the turnstile to the show grounds, he turned round to survey the huge car park. It was two thirds full, which surprised him as it held over one thousand cars when full. Of course there were farmers there who were showing sheep, lambs, cows, calves, and bulls. There were also various dog shows plus sheepdog trials. As Mr Finleyson's eyes scanned the car park, he burst out laughing at what he saw. A vast car park of over seven hundred brand new Land Rover Discovery's, long wheelbase Defenders and brand new £120,000 Range Rover Vogues, glistening in the morning sun! If you did not know any better, you would think you were surveying the car park of a Land Rover/Range Rover production plant! Not the car park of the Norwich show grounds! What was even funnier, was in the midst of all these multi-million pounds worth of 4x4's sat his crappy old, rusty, dilapidated, thirty year old long wheelbase Land Rover Defender, with it's hen scratched bonnet and peeling faded paintwork! He didn't give a toss what people thought of his 4x4. At least he was not a pretentious and pompous gasbag, like all these farmers trying to impress and outdo each other! It was well known throughout Britain that farmers were the most miserable, greetin faced, moaning, bastards on the face of the earth! They were always crying poverty, when in fact, with their set asides, government subsidies, and vast payments for not growing this or that crop as laid down by the EU rules, not to mention the acreage of fertile land worth a fortune, owned by each farmer, made some of them the richest people in Britain. Yet they would stand and tell you to your face that they did not have a brass farthing to their names. They would tell you that with a straight face to boot! They all dressed as if they were store detectives for Oxfam. Yet each one of them were driving brand new, expensive, top of the range 4x4's! He chuckled to himself when a picture came into his head, of Martha and the other hen friends tap dancing on the bonnets of the new Range Rovers. What a sight that would be! All the bonnets scratched to buggery! He hurried back through the turnstile to see if Gilbert was finished registering. He was. Mr Finleyson noticed that old Bertie was still at the registration table, arguing with the woman about competitors entry fees. He was holding up his queue, in which Colin Brown was behind him waiting his turn and looking right pissed off! Gilbert turned to Mr Finleyson and said, "Do you want to go over to the food stalls to get something to eat before the judging starts?" He replied, "Sure, let's eat now, I'm starving!" They were about to leave the registration area when they heard old Bertie shouting and swearing about the red wristbands he was wearing, that he could not remember putting on!

Hilary and Cedric had been mingling with the growing crowds as they walked around the show grounds on their way to the area where they would judge the hens. They had both been very well paid by the breeders who had hired them! Hilary and Cedric had no problem with the fix they were instructed to carry out. This was just a well paid job to them. They were as unscrupulous as the men who had hired them. The judging fix was not personal to them, it was just a good business move. It was now Mr Finleyson's turn to step up to the registration table. Gilbert was still behind him and old Bertie was registering at the long table to his right. Mr Finleyson had to fill in some forms, then pay a registration fee. After that you are given armbands with numbers on them. Numbers on a plastic card to hang on the holding pen he was using for his other hens. There were also various badges he had to wear for other categories in which he had entered Martha and the other hens. As he was finished registering, he picked Martha up from the registration table, where she had been sitting and turned to leave so Gilbert could step up and register. As he turned to leave, he could see old Bertie on his right, was still at the registration table filling out forms. The woman who was sitting there helping him was having a difficult time getting through to him.With him being stone deaf, it was a hindrance for the woman to be able to help him with the forms and giving him directions to the area where the judging would take place. Old Bertie being deaf, always shouted loudly when he spoke. He could be heard throughout the registration area, car parks and the competitors tents!

He handed Martha to Gilbert and beat a hasty retreat to his Land Rover. Once there he took the two cages out of the back and set them on the ground. He then gave the hens food and cleaned out the trays underneath. That done, he picked up one of the cages and carried it towards the competitors tent. Once inside, he found an empty pen, full of clean straw with a trough if fresh water. He opened the cage and let the four hens out. He put in a big bowl of food and went back to his vehicle to get the other cage. He picked it up and hurried back to the tent and let those four hens out to join their friends. They all seemed happy enough as they pecked their way around the large wooden holding pen. As he walked back to the registration area, his thoughts turned to the man who had been queuing behind him, Colin Brown. He was seventyseven years old, lived outside Aberdeen on a small croft and was ugly and as mean as a polecat! Colin had worked all his days offshore on the rigs, which were many miles off the coast of Aberdeen in the cold and desolate North sea. Working on the rigs separated the men from the boys! He was a big, powerful man who still stood six foot three inches tall at the age of seventyseven! He also liked a drink and could drink anyone under the table. He only drank single malt whisky. You didn't mess with Colin. He was a quiet man of few words. Breeding hens had always been a hobby of his since he retired from the rigs. Mr Finleyson did not think that old Bertie and Colin knew each other. He reached Gilbert who was now only two places away from the registration table. Gilbert stepped back a few steps to let Mr Finleyson into the queue in front of him. He handed Martha back to him. He then turned to Gilbert and said "Thank you Gil, I really appreciate this. I owe you one!" Gilbert replied, "Not to worry Oliver, you would do the same for me. Do you think Colin took notice that you and Martha were standing in front of him?" Mr Finleyson replied, "Even if he did, he is not the type to go telling tales to anyone." Mr Finleyson had crossed paths with Colin over the years at various shows throughout the country. Colin had never stopped to speak to him, nor had he ever said hello to Mr Finleyson. The most he had ever had from him over the years was a quick nod as he walked past him. Colin's reputation was that he was hard as nails, kept himself to himself, was a man of few words and did not mix with the other breeders. His personal life was a mystery to everyone. Colin couldn't care less if Martha had stripped old Bertie butt naked, destroying all his clothes he had worn that day. As he neared the registration table with only one man in front of him, he was unaware of the two "ringer" judges, Hilary Lumsden and Cedric Henderson, who had been hired by some of the disgruntled and jealous breeders, to make sure Martha and Mr Finleyson's other hens did not win any category nor a place. They wanted to knock Martha from the top spot, paving the way for their hens to triumph. These unscrupulous band of bete noire breeders wanted Martha to go home humiated and beaten.

Martha started coughing because some of the fibres from the wool she was pecking away at, must have gone down her throat. She was trying to cough the fibres up! Mr Finleyson, who was still deep in conversation with Gilbert, looked to see why Martha was having such a coughing fit. He turned to look at her and it was then he saw what used to be the back of old Bertie's jumper, which was missing and bits of red yarn was scattered everywhere in a trail like pattern. With Martha coughing, the back of Bertie,s jumper missing and the trail of red yarn, he put two and two together and instantly knew why Martha was coughing. She had pecked old Bertie,s jumper to pieces! Mr Finleyson was mortified at what Martha had done and to make matters worse, she could not have picked a more bad tempered, ill natered, cantankerous, feisty, old bastard if she had tried. He was the worst, with a fearsome reputation! Mr Finleyson always gave old Bertie a wide berth when he encountered him. Old Bertie was stone deaf, eighty six years old, bandy legged to the extreme, with gnarled hands and a weather beaten face. He did not suffer fools gladly! Even though Bertie's farm was only fifteen miles away from his, he avoided him at all costs. Old Bertie's age did not hamper him and he had not become more mellow with age. What was he going to do? If Bertie found out it was Martha who had destroyed his jumper, he would not hesitate to wring her neck! Mr Finleyson turned around to see who was standing behind him. It turned out it was another miserable old bastard by the name of Colin Brown. Mr Finleyson was sandwiched between two old miserable and ornery bastards! He had to think fast, the queue was moving along and it was getting on for 10:00 am. Everything was running late. He leaned over to Gilbert on his left and said "I need to go back to the Land Rover and take out the two cages in the back with my other hens in them. I can only carry one at a time. I am going to put the hens in a holding pen in the competitor's tent. I won't be long as I will let them out of the cages and feed them. Could you hold onto Martha for me while I take care of the hens, and when I come back, do you think I could slip back into the queue in front of you?" Gilbert said "no bother Oliver, you do what you have to do and I will take good care of Martha for you". "Does your sudden departure from that queue, have anything to do the destruction of old Bertie's jumper by Martha?" Gilbert then gave Mr Finleyson a knowing wink!

Old Bertie McPhee was standing in front of them, waiting to register his moth eaten hens. How old Bertie thought his hens were up to competition standard was a mystery to Mr Finleyson. Old Bertie had been entering hens in shows around the country for over fifty years and had not even placed let alone won! It didn't stop him from entering competitions though. Old Bertie was a real character. Mr Finleyson had known him all his life, as Bertie's farm was around fifteen miles from his. Old Bertie uses a livestock carrier to transport his hens from show to show, then he takes a train. The queue was now moving steadily along. He did not notice that old Bertie's bright red jumper was a bit tattered, with bits of the wool hanging everywhere where the jumper had come unravelled in places. It looked as if the jumper was as old as Bertie! Unfortunately Martha noticed and she was in pecking distance to the back of old Bertie, she began to pull on the bits of yarn that had been used to knit the jumper. The bright red yarn that was hanging everywhere must have intrigued Martha as she merrily pecked away! Mr Finleyson did not notice because he was speaking to Gilbert Davidson, who was in the next queue on his left. So Martha pecked away at old Bertie,s jumper unchallenged. Mr Finleyson moved along with the queue while speaking to Gilbert, and Martha continued to pull the yarn that was hanging from the jumper with her beak and then she would toss it to the ground. There was now a trail of red yarn on the ground. Martha managed to unravel the whole of the back of the jumper, until it was entirely missing. Old Bertie did not even notice that his old threadbare jumper now consisted of a front bit and two arms! You could now see his old threadbare flannel shirt which was moth eaten. Martha then stretched her neck out as far as it would go and started pulling at the left sleeve, tossing the wool to the ground. After a few minutes the left sleeve was no longer attached to the arm hole. Old Bertie did not even notice that the unattached sleeve had slipped down his arm to his wrist. Martha then got started on the right sleeve and that sleeve came loose from the arm and slipped down to old Bertie's wrist! As the queue moved along, people were starting to notice the state of old Bertie's jumper and the trail of red yarn along the ground, and were howling with laughter. As old Bertie's red jumper now only consisted of a front part being held onto his body by the knitted crew neck. The front of the jumper was now flapping about his body unnoticed by Bertie himself. Surely he must feel a draft up his back!

He pulled the bus over and got up out of his seat and walked to the back of the bus to investigate. He at first saw nothing untowards, so he kneeled down to look under the seats and lo and behold there was Martha asleep on a newspaper someone had left there. He recognised her, as everyone knew Martha! She was famous in the village and glen for being the most winning hen at competitions in Scotland. She was a beauty and the pride and joy of Mr Finleyson. Ewan just laughed to himself and went back to his seat where he started the bus and then drove Martha home. When he got to Mr Finleyson's farm, Mr Finleyson was standing at the roadside wringing his hands and pacing up and down. The poor old boy was frantic! He did not know where Martha was or what had happened to her. He had feared the worse and thought maybe she had wandered out of the farm onto the busy road and had been run over! He had searched everywhere and walked up and down the road for a few miles. He had no idea she had stowed away on Ewan's bus. Ewan pulled over and opened the door and carried Martha down the two steps of the bus. When Mr Finleyson saw Ewan holding Martha, he ran towards him with both arms outstretched and literally snatched Martha out of Ewan's arms. Mr Finleyson was hugging and kissing Martha for all he was worth! Ewan looked on in disbelief at Mr Finleyson's display of affection towards a hen! He was hugging Martha so tight that her eyes were bugged out! Ewan just shook his head as he got back on the bus and thought, he needs to get out more and socialise with humans instead of hens! He then drove off to finish his round, leaving Mr Finleyson and Martha at the side of the road. Once back at the Land Rover, Mr Finleyson checked on the hens in the cages in the back and then he pulled his old, comfortable boots he always wore from under the back seat. He went round to the drivers side and got in, setting Martha down on her cushion. He took the new brogues off and carefully put them into his overnight satchel he had brought for the trip, to put his change of clothes into. He pulled on his old boots, which felt like he was walking on air. He picked Martha up off her cushion and went back to stand in the long queue of other show competitors, who were also waiting to register. He had lost his place in the queue, but it had been worth it to put on his old boots. He could not walk around all day in shoes that felt like he was walking on razors! He stood in the long queue holding Martha, who happily clucking away and taking in her surroundings.

He waited his turn in the long queue with Martha tucked under his arm. His feet were beginning to hurt. These new brogues that he had ordered were pinching his toes. He did not notice while he was driving but was in extreme discomfort. This was no good, he thought. He could not walk around or stand all day in these new brogues. He slipped out of the queue clutching Martha and headed back to the Land Rover. He was going to put his old, comfortable boots back on. Who cares what they looked like, if he wore the new brogues all day, he would be crippled by the end of the day and they would need to wheel him out in a wheelchair! As soon as he got back to the farm, the brogues were going back into their box and being sent back . He hadn't paid for them yet as he got them on approval from Aitkenhead and Hardy, who sent them up to him on the bus. Well, they would be making the trip back to them via the village bus. He had been buying his footwear from Aitkenhead and Hardy as far back as he could remember, as did his father. A family run firm for generations, all footwear was sent to their customers by bus on approval. If they were not comfortable or ill fitting, you then put them back in the box and sent them back for a different size or a different pair of boots or shoes. The local bus would wind it's way through the picturesque back roads outside Oban to the outlying farms that dotted the landscape that was covered in heather and grazing sheep. The bus could be carrying anything from Fisherman's Friend, assorted livestock and food supplies to old Sandy's dinner that he forgot when he set out earlier on his tractor to help out Dougie, who was two farms away from him. His missus put the bucket with Sandy's dinner in it, on the bus, behind the driver It was this bus that carried Mr Finleyson's brogues which sat neatly wrapped in thick brown paper and tied up with brown string. Also on the seat in the third row, left hand side of the bus, sat eight more neatly wrapped boxes containing men and women's shoes from Aitkenhead and Hardy, alongside Mr Finleyson's brogues. They were all to be dropped off along the way, on approval. Once Martha sneaked onto the bus when the driver, Ewan, was by the barn speaking to Mr Finleyson. Her nosiness getting the better of her once again! She went and hid under one of the seats at the back of the bus. She was gone for hours until Ewan went down a steep gorge in the glen and all these eggs came rolling down the aisle to the front of the bus.

To his fellow competitors, who were bitter and jealous of Martha. To hell with them all, he thought. In fact if his farm was not so far away, he would turn round right now and not even bother to compete. Well he had come this far, so he had to compete one more time. So might as well make the best of it! They had now arrived at the outskirts of Norwich. The directions to the show grounds was sign posted along the way and also showed they were now only two miles away. He followed the signs slowly as there was now a procession of tractors, farm vehicles and day trippers out for some fun with their families. As they approached the show grounds, he could also make out the vast parking area. Those who were show competitors had their own parking area close to the back entrance for easy access. He followed the signs to the parking area in which he would park. All the rows were identified with a letter and each parking bay was numbered. He would have to write down where he was, so he could find the Land Rover amongst his fellow competitor's vehicles. He managed to park in row B, space 12. This was it he thought. Win, lose or draw, his competing days were over. When he got out of the Land Rover, the air was thick with the smell of cotton candy, popcorn, toffee apples and burgers. The smell made him quite hungry all of a sudden, and he looked forward to lunch. Martha and the other hens were in for a big treat. All of the popcorn they could eat! He went round to the other side and reached in and picked up Martha. The other hens he would come back for after he registered. First, before going to register, he fed and watered the hens and Martha, who pecked away at her food on the bonnet of his Land Rover where he had put her food and a dish of water. Martha knew she would soon be competing as she had dozens of times in the past. After pecking up all her food, she began to dance on the bonnet of the Land Rover. She loved to dance on the bonnet, and over time had completely ruined it. It was covered in scratches and gouges from Martha and her hen friends, who seemed to treat the bonnet of his vehicle as a dance floor. He had seen up to eight hens up on the bonnet, jiving away for all they were worth! Little stick legs were a blur as they did the Fandango in perfect unison. Arses up in the air, chests puffed out. They were having the time of their life. He couldn't care less about the state of his bonnet. It was only an old, battered, faded, rusty Land Rover that had got him from A to B and that was all that mattered to him. Let the hens "cut a rug" on top of the bonnet. It was a sight to behold! No more time for dancing. There would be plenty of time later. He took Martha off the bonnet and headed for the registration table where the long table had entry forms, badges, numbered arm bands and tags for the show animals. There were seven people sitting at the long table registering the competitors and their animals.

She must have jumped out of the window of the the Land Rover to come and look for him and followed someone in through the automatic doors. And instead of looking for him, her nosiness got the better of her. She had never been in a super store like Tesco's before! Now she was entertaining the staff and customers! It took him forever to get her out of the store. Everyone wanted Martha to continue dancing! She ended up doing encore after encore before Mr Finleyson could pick her up and run out of the store! It was only when they got back to the Land Rover, he realised he had forgotten the milk and bread! That was the last time he took Martha to Tesco's! His thoughts came back to the present, and the rest of the journey. As he cruised down the M1, his thoughts were on the directions he had written down before he had set off back in Scotland. He didn't have that fancy Sat nav, he had a plain old fashioned AA road map of the whole of Britain. He was to come off the M1 at Leicester, then drive to Peterborough then take the A1 (M) to Huntingdon. From there it was on to Cambridge and then the drive east to Norwich. The show grounds were on the outskirts of Norwich before the city centre. They were now about an hour away. He checked his watch, it was 7.15 am. It would not matter if they were a little late as the judging would not start until 10.00 am. They had plenty of time! The traffic was heavier than when he got onto the M1 at 6.30 am but moving along at a steady fifty mph. Mr Finleyson started to sing as he motored down the M1. He sang that song from "Annie get your Gun," which was "Buttons and Bows." He had always liked the movie and the song. Martha rocked from side to side on her cushion as he sang. He could never get depressed with a companion like Martha. She was his world and he loved her to bits! As they neared the last leg of their journey, Mr Finleyson kept a close watch for the sign for Cambridge. He spotted it after another ten miles of driving, and then got into the lane that would take him there. Finally they were in Cambridge and he took that road east to Norwich. . He glanced at his watch, it was now 8.00 am. He reckoned they would be at the show grounds by 8 30. Plenty of time to register and get ready for the judging. It had been a long drive for him and the hens and they still had to make the journey back. He would take his time and pull over at a rest area to sleep for the night. He now knew he had made the right decision to retire after the Norwich show. This was the last show his hens and Martha would ever compete in again! He was too old and tired to go through such a long, gruelling journey. As this trip had taken its toll on him, not to mention how hard it was on Martha and the other hens. He looked forward to getting back home to his farm and putting his feet up. He would employ another farm hand to help Tom and also to take the heavy load off him. It was about time he started enjoying life. He wasn't even bothered if Martha won or even placed. The same thing for the other hens he had brought. In fact he should never have made the journey to Norwich. He did not need the money and there was not a hen in Britain who could match Martha's accolades! She was retiring at the top. He scolded himself for driving across country when he didn't need to. He had nothing to prove!

This done, he made his way back to the Land Rover and lifted Martha off her cushion. He went back to the grassy area, put Martha down and sat on the same bench. He drank his coffee and shared his toast with Martha. He did not have time to sit there for as long as he had the night before. They needed to get going if they were going to reach Norwich on time. He had changed his clothes, fed the hens, cleared out their cages, had coffee and shared his breakfast with Martha. The Land Rover was full to the neck with diesel. After going over his mental checklist, he went to pick Martha up. She was enjoying the grassy park like area with the sun on her back. She gave him an accusing look with the shiny, black, beady eyes as Mr Finleyson scooped her up in his arms. She was enjoying herself! It was now 6:30 am and time hit the road. He plonked Martha down on her cushion and started the engine. He put the Land Rover into gear and moved forward from the rest area onto the road. The hens and Martha were really making a racket with their loud clucking. They knew they were close to Norwich and the show grounds. They were getting excited, as was Mr Finleyson. It was already warm, clear blue skies, sun shining brightly and it was only 6:30 am. It was going to be a glorious day! He would call Tom when they arrived at the show grounds to tell him they had arrived safely and to inquire about his other hens and the farm. He knew his farm and his hens were in safe hands but it did not stop him from worrying. They were still around ninety miles away from Norwich. Mr Finleyson drove onto the slip road that would take him onto the motorway which was the M1. It was starting to get busy with commuters. Martha was sitting up surveying her surroundings as the Land Rover did a steady 60 mph. She was the most inquisitive hen he had ever owned. She was also the most bolshie! He thought back to a few months ago when he had left Martha in the Land Rover, with the windows down, for a few minutes so he could pop into Tesco's for some bread and milk. Next thing he knows, the store is in a state of uproarious laughter and customers and staff were running to the produce section. It was like a stampede. People were pushing and shoving. Some woman pushed past him, her trolley into his side, knocking him bandy! Mr Finleyson was swept along in the stampede. When he got to the produce section, there was Martha on top of the shelf that the bananas were on and she was doing a jig! Her little stick legs were a blur. They flew from side to side and she spun round, wings flapping, her black beady eyes were smiling. It looked as if she was doing the Jig,Highland fling and the Lindy with a touch of break dancing thrown in! All the people in Tesco had gathered round Martha and were laughing and clapping their hands. The staff had abandoned their tills and a few shoplifters took the opportunity to clean out the booze aisle. Martha was a real show off. She was loving the attention!