Conclusion

Left - Bam Margera.

Right - Tony Hawk.

At first, Dave just skated his board for fun. The city streets were his playground. He learnt to ollie and could soon carve downhill like a snowboarder, shooting uphill like a rocket. Dave was so good that other skateboard dudes hung out simply to watch his moves - grinding on the steps of the city hall, sweeping down the railings like the great Tony Hawk.

By chance, Dave was spotted by the Vice President of Deuce Surfer Ltd - an American based skateboard design outfit who were intent on expanding into Europe. "Far out!" gulped the Californian VP as Dave performed his street magic.

Well, one thing led to another and Dave was signed up by Deuce Surfer. He was flown transatlantic to West Chester, Pennsylvania - the hometown of Brandon C. Margera - otherwise known as Bam - the guy who replaced Tony Hawk as king of world skateboarders. Bam had grown rich on his tricks - starring on MTV shows, performing Jackass-style pranks that nobody else would dream of attempting. Deuce Surfer Ltd had challenged Bam to a showdown with their brave little Yorkshire pudding and laughing his socks off, Bam had accepted the challenge. "Easy money!" he chortled.

"Let's go for insane terrain!" said Dave in a combative tone.

The whole crew drove out to an abandoned power station on the outskirts of Hershey.

Champion and frozen pudding warmed up, swooping and diving as the growing crowd went ooh and aah! Then the biggest challenge of all called them upwards, inside the concrete lining of the great cooling tower. They climbed up and up on opposite sides of the tower until they reached the very top. They were over two hundred feet above ground level. Nervously, Dave gripped his customised Deuce Surfer Board. His name had been sprayed on it graffiti-style - "Superpud"

"You scared Yorkie?" called Bam from the other side - his vinegary voice echoing around the great industrial chamber.

"Go to hell Yank!" yelled back Dave.

The referee counted down and little beads of beef gravy appeared on Dave's brow. 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1 and then they were off, plunging down like diving seabirds, crouched, their boards barely rolling on the concrete walls. They hit the concave floor of the tower at a hundred miles an hour and it was just too much for Bam, his knees buckled with the impact as Dave went zooming up the other side. Hurray for Dave! Bam lay in a crumpled heap. Dave had become the new world champion in extreme skateboarding.

Soon Dave had his own MTV skateboarding programme. There was "Superpud" merchandise to buy and even a video game called "King Dave". Sadly, Dave's brilliant career was foreshortened when during a promotional interview with a New York Times reporter in Washington Square Park, an unleashed Afghan hound called Taliban bounded past the fountain where on Sundays musicians often gather and raced straight towards Dave's bench. Just like a dog biscuit, Dave was gone in a moment, right down Taliban's gullet.

The dog's owner came panting up saying, "Naughty boy Taliban!" - not even realising that his hairy hungry hound had just ended the career of one remarkable frozen Yorkshire pudding. You're in your grave little Dave... Rest in Peace little fellow! Rest in Peace!

Third

This is the third episode of the gripping tale of "Dave the Frozen Yorkshire Pudding". Thanks this time to Tallullah for moving the story on. Any other offerings? C'mon - don't be bashful...!

Dave the Pudding was feeling a little less full of himself - no doubt a direct cause of gravy loss - but was still keen on some adventure. He meandered along until he came upon an abandoned skateboard. Climbing onto the skateboard, he noticed it move.

"Hmmm," he muttered, "this might prove to be an interesting way to get about."

With one tiny foot on the ground, Dave started to propel the skateboard and was soon ambling forward with ease. Unfortunately, he didn't see the hill until it was too late. At the crest of the hill his skateboard began to picked up speed. All Dave could do was hang on for dear life.

"Oh, mother of God! Will it never end?" he wailed into the night. Clinging to the skateboard, Dave began to enjoy the scary ride. He discovered that if he leaned to the left or right, the skateboard would veer in that direction. If he moved to the back of the board the front would rise up and he would be riding on two wheels. If he bounced, the whole board bounced too. It didn't take him long to discover real thrill with this frenzied ride.

"Woohoo! Look at me! I am so loving this!" he screamed into the wind. I want to be a skateboard rider for the rest of my life! That marked the beginning of Dave the Pudding's rise to fame as an Extreme Skateboarder.

Continued

Brad the Gorilla in Seattle Zoo >

Thanks to Brad the Gorilla for advancing the story of "Dave" - I have adapted the continuation slightly. The story is still not complete. Please - in Visitors Comments - I invite anybody to either write the next phase of the story or to give me an outline plan. To be continued....

Dave, newly free, wandered around in the moonlit garden, feeling gradually lost and not a little lonesome. All of a sudden he stumbled over the hob-nailed boot of the great and fearsome Hitman B, a strange hairy, metamorphosised version of the famous blogger, Hitman J.

"Watch it!" Hitman B snarled, and then his eyes lit up. "A little Yorkshire Pud! I'm gonna eat ya, little fellow."

"No, no," Dave the Pudding said. "I don't want to be eaten. I want to go to America and see all the casinos. I crave the bright lights and the warmth of a Las Vegas sunset."

"Stick with me, kiddo," Hitman B said. "I'll put you up with a nice dame who will treat you right and you'll run one of my little casinos until you prove your worth."

"This dame," Dave the Pudding said, "She doesn't..." he gulped, "She doesn't have a convection oven, does she?"

"No," Hitman B said and then chortled, "But she does have an Aga range."

"Noooooooo!" Dave the Pudding cried, and he began to run.

As he ran, he sweated gravy, and Hitman B in hot pursuit was momentarily deterred. Like a hungry beast or mental defective, he started to lick those delicious puddles of beef gravy from the damp ground. Feeling a little like Pinnochio, Dave got clean away from the evil gorilla who reminded him so much of those wicked robbers that the wooden boy met on his journey. Once again, Dave stood in a pool of silvery moonlight wondering what lay ahead of him.

Pinnochio!