Bob Fry – the inevitable has come to pass

Readers, it is with great sorrow but no surprise that I must announce to you the departure from this life of Mr Bob Fry. It has been apparent to those of us who know him, that his war against spoonwalkers must eventually be his undoing. Friends will remember the spoonwalker deterrent of a few years ago that instead opened some kind of portal through which a modest abomination attempted to get a hold on the island. Anyone who attended last year’s church picnic will never forget the anti-spoonwalker missile and the absolute destruction of the cake table. Granted, there had been a spoonwalker on the cake table, but there had also been seventeen cakes, an assortment of china and several casually resting hands and elbows that will never be quite the same again.

Bob has been a distinctive figure on the island in recent years. Those of you who do not know him by name will no doubt have seen him, silhouetted against some dramatic sky as, armed with net and club he pursued thieving spoonwalkers across the hilltops of Hopeless. The skyline will not be quite the same without him.

Those of us who have lived here longer and wrangled with spoonwalkers ourselves had tried to tell him. They aren’t easy to kill. They look like they should be – small and squishy as they are. But, luck favours them in the most unreasonably ways. I am certain that it is only their uncanny good fortune that allows them to pilfer spoons from householders with such great success.

Dear, departed Bob had a love of spoons to rival that of any spoonwalker. His spoon collection is a marvel to behold, and he has protected it with a ferocity that has, inevitably, killed him.

It is my understanding that last week, Bob set off on what would be his final hilltop pursuit of his sworn enemies. He was seen from afar by Gommer and Gof Chevin – the twins were horribly drunk at the time so it took them several days to sober up enough to mention this to anyone. They report that three or four Bob Frys ran across the headland together, and that this sight was incredibly funny. Bob, or perhaps Bobs, cornered the spoonwalker on a rocky outcrop and attempted to reclaim the spoons it had taken. However, the cliff edge proved unstable, and Bob was dropped unceremoniously into the sea.

We wait with interest for the reading of his will and to discover the name of the person, or persons who will inherit his most exceptional spoon collection. In the meantime, some of our more responsible citizens have removed said spoon collection from Bob’s abode, to the safety of The Squid and Teapot, where all of the spoons, I am assured, will be kept perfectly safe.

 

Bob Fry died as a direct consequence of his pledging to our kickstarter. We have some slots remaining (at time of writing) so if you would like to see your own preposterous Hopeless Maine death scenario, follow the link… https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/countrostov/tales-of-hopeless-maine 

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