I was almost blind with tears, but that did not stop me thrusting the point of my poniard through the giant’s gigantic heart. Its foul impure giant’s blood gushed, splattering me from head to toe. It crashed to earth, writhed, and perished. I was in no fit state to sort out my business at the viaduct. Sheathing my bloody poniard, I wended my way home, past the spinney and the duckpond. When I had hosed the giant’s blood off my coat and my cardigan and my shirt and my scarf and my trousers and my underpants and my socks and my shoes and my Homburg, I sat in the bath for an hour. Then I took five fresh leeches out of the leecharium and affixed them one by one to my torso. The first four I named Fee and Fi and Fo and Fum. The fifth, I decided, would remain nameless, like the nameless horror in the eerie barn at Scroonhoonpooge Farmyard. Thus I paid tribute to my lost leeches, my lost blood.
This episode was recorded on the 21st April 2011. A complete transcript of this episode can be found on Frank Key’s Hooting Yard website. Accompanying Hooting Yard On The Air, the six publications We Were Puny, They Were Vapid, Gravitas, Punctilio, Rectitude & Pippy Bags, Unspeakable Desolation Pouring Down From The Stars, Befuddled By Cormorants , Inpugned By A Peasant And Other Storiesand Porpoises Rescue Dick Van Dyke are available for purchase