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Once again it was time for the annual Produce Prizegiving Event, a celebration of all things home grown and edible! In the fluttering marquee Mrs Green’s gooseberries stood proudly alongside Molly’s marvellous marmalade. Freda’s fabulous fruit cake sat between Tom’s tower of tomatoes and Mr Cox’s ramrod cucumbers. Sally’s strawberry and cream fancies, Screams as she calls them, appeared scrumptious and Miss Penelope’s petit-poi looked like tiny green jewels. Beneath the benches were sacks of spuds and piles of parsnips.
However, self-centred Cedric Dobbs’ carrots were well past their best, his lettuce limp and his apples knocking on a bit. Whilst he he claimed his exhibits were the best in their class, it looked like his entries had lost to their rivals once again.
Sadly, the prize giving ceremony was spoilt by Cedric’s heckling. True to form, he complained when John James’ beetroots were judged the best and jeered when Mr Jackson’s jam was named the fruitiest.
“A curse on your cauliflowers and a blight on your beans” he yelled at the assembled crowd. There were sighs and groans all round.
Police Constable Potter who’d dropped by to ensure everything was fair and square, put down his glass of Mr Winstanley’s winning white wine and escorted Cedric out doors.
Master of Ceremonies Major Mason regained his composure and resumed.
“Dear friends, it’s time to present this season’s top award, the coveted Silver Spade for the Village’s Finest Garden”.
The head judge handed him an envelope. The marquee fell still. A hush descended.
“The award goes to…oh…erm….”
The Major fanned his face with the slip of paper.
“PC Potter, would you mind popping outside and bringing back Cedric Dobbs?”
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Thanks to Brenda for hosting The Sunday Whirl where this week’s given words are – sighs siren knocking still centered lost slip doors true screams beneath and curse. I used all but one!
Lol!