Late last night, or more accurately, very early this morning – long after everyone had retired to bed – there was a knock at the door.
Wilson answered it, and found Nërp standing in the porch.
Wilson asked what had happened his Xmas Tree, and Nërp told him that a commuter had admired it, so he had sold it to him for £50.
This deeply impressed Wilson, who announced that it had given him an idea… which is never a good sign.
Before he turned in for the night, Nërp said he had been thinking, and he didn't want to be called Nërp any more.
In future, he wants to be known as Nërp-Man, or possibly just The N-Man, which he thinks is a more suitable name for a high-profile SuperStar…
Wilson has now returned home and is telephoning local News Outlets – The Uckfield Examiner, Uckfield FM, the Brighton Evening Argus, Mid-Sussex Times and so on.
He's even Googled the email address for I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here in case there's still time for Nërp to be entered as a Late Runner – he figures that if Noel Edmonds can do it, Nërp can do it too!
Last night Wilson went round to the Railway Station to check up on Nërp, and to give him a PowerPack in case he's running low on energy or 'Getting hungry'.
Nërp told Wilson that a Guard had said he was blocking the platform – he gave him a 'Laser-Eyes' look, said 'Exterminate! Exterminate!' and hasn't been troubled by authority since.
W was surprised to find Nërp was wearing his Leonard Cohen hat, and enquired whether he was cold.
'No,' Nërp replied, 'it's just that, when it was where you left it, people kept throwing money into it and I found that a bit, well, demeaning!'
'Was there a lot of money?' W asked anxiously.
'Oh quite a bit! I thought about it, then I gave it to a Homeless Person, because I knew that was what you would have done.'
Wilson sighed deeply but, showing admirable restraint, said nothing...
Before leaving, Wilson told Nërp that he was now Uckfield's Official Xmas Robot, and wished him good luck.
Then he placed his Leonard Cohen hat in front of Nërp 'just in case'.
In case of what, he did not specify, but I think I can guess…
In order for Nërp to get maximum exposure and fame, Wilson asks that you invite all your friends to join the Wonderful World of Wilson Vermilingua group:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/wilsonvermilinguaappreciation/
or at least to read the Blog at: https://antwars2.blogspot.co.uk/
Having set Nërp and his Xmas tree up on the platform at Uckfield Station, Wilson hung some decorations on the tree while explaining to Nërp that, while Uckfield Station was a bit smaller than London St Pancras, London had many railway stations while Uckfield has but one – thus giving him a 'total monopoly' on rail commuters.
The London St Pancras Xmas Tree and Robot periodically dispense a puff of Chanel Perfume to distract the passing wage-slaves from their daily grind.
Wilson told Nërp that Chanel was an unnecessary extravagance, so he's bought an AirWick Air Freshener which Nërp will intermittently squirt at people as they pass by.
I wonder how that's going to be received by an unsuspecting public, particularly after the recent Novichok poisonings…
Wilson has promised Nërp that he will make him more famous then 2001's HAL and more popular than Robbie the Robot and WALL•E.
I have no idea how he proposes to achieve this, but they have bought an Xmas Tree in the Village and are now heading towards Uckfield Railway Station with it.
This has Trouble written all over it…
Nërp, having seen a giant robot on tv in the Lord Mayor's Show, and another at St Pancras Station, is feeling a bit… inadequate.
He says that he feels 'left behind' – as if life is passing him by. While other robots have become famous, done things and made something of their lives, he is idling his time away in a suburban backwater…
Unfortunately he has made the mistake of consulting Wilson about the best way to raise his profile.
Wilson's first thought was: Sponsorship – some way he could monetise Nërp's activities…
After coffee and a Belgian Bun, he announced that he had the 'Perfect solution' which would elevate Nërp's reputation and popularity!
The two of them have gone in to the Village to implement this enigmatic and currently undefined Plan…
Last night the sTone Brothers were waiting patiently in the living room for someone to carry them out into the garden.
Nërp went in to oblige, but got caught up watching the Late News.
In the past I have always discouraged him from watching the news because… well, Donald Trump, really – I don't want N getting the wrong idea about humans – but now I've found another reason to discourage any interest in Current Affairs.
The news showed the unveiling of the London St Pancras [a major UK railway station] Xmas Tree, and… a 17ft Robot!
What with the Lord Mayor's Show featuring a huge robot and now this, Nërp has decided that he is not realising his true potential – Life is Passing Him By and he needs to Raise His Profile.
Honestly, I dread to think what this will entail, but I fear I shall find out in the fulness of time…
Saturday morning everyone gathered in the living room to watch the London Lord Mayor's Show, a traditional expression of Pride, Pomp and Ceremony that has been taking place annually since the year 1189.
Wilson was very excited to see a Tweet he'd sent to #LordMayorsShow scroll across the bottom of the screen, but this was rather over shadowed by Nërp suddenly shouting,'I know him! I know him! That's my relative!'
He had spotted a massive robot trundling down the street, apparently sponsored by the Hong Kong Economic & Trade Office.
Nërp's joy soon turned to dismay, though, as he noticed the size of his robotic relation.
'He looks about six metres tall!' he said, 'whereas I'm just… tiny. Perhaps I should start going to the gym.'
Wilson was quick to dismiss this plan, saying, 'Gyms are absolutely useless! I went to a gym once – it was the worst ten minutes of my life!'
I persuaded Wilson to have a practice race before he spends any money on his website, advertising etc.
He set up his webcam, placed a pile of sugar cubes at the end of his little race track and placed six Racing Ants behind the Start line.
Pandemonium ensued.
Before Wilson had even said, 'Get ready… Steady… GO!' the ants had started scampering around in random directions (one even taking flight) while Antony – who had been put in charge of guarding the sugar cubes – and Wilson ran about in pursuit trying to catch them.
After a few minutes, W and Antony gave up looking for the miniature athletes, and it wasn't until much later that they were discovered, sated and too full to move, sitting under the sugar cubes with smiles on their tiny faces…
It turns out that ants, unlike racehorses and greyhounds, are harder to train than you might think.
I don't know why I was the only person not surprised to learn this simple fact…
Wilson has just proudly shown me the logo for his new On-Line Ant Racing project, ANTrack.
It's good – actually it's very good – but I can't help thinking it looks the tiniest bit familiar.
Then he confided the secret behind his ant-racing plan, the secret that is guaranteed to make it a sure-fire money earner: the races won't be shown live.
'No tv is LIVE live any more – it always has a few minutes delay built in, in case someone swears or dies – you don't believe Strictly Come Dancing is LIVE live, do you? They use a thing they call the Seven Second Delay, or the Dump Box!'
I confessed that I had believed that Strictly was indeed live. He greeted this with a withering look that clearly showed my levels of naiveté had reached a new high.
'Anyway,' he continued, 'Our Live Ant Racing will be just a little bit less live than that – there'll be just enough of a time delay that we can see which ant wins before we set the odds! We'll be trousering a fortune!'
This morning Wilson invited me into his library to pitch his new idea to me.
I knew I had been right to expect the worst when, having softened me up with a glass of ant gin, he announced that his idea is: On-line Ant Racing.
He showed me a little race track he'd made, explaining that the ants would start at one end and race towards a sugar cube strategically placed at the other.
'People place on-line bets on the ants, then we show the race live,'
He paused for a moment – I thought he looked a little bit shifty at this point, but I said nothing.
'Then we pay out on the winning bets,' he continued, 'and bank the profits! Sweet or what?'
This is wrong on so many levels, but I can foresee such a multitude of practical and logistical problems that at this stage I'm prepared to let him carry on with his plans, in hopes that they will never come to fruition…
Wilson eventually emerged from the library in time to supervise the lighting of the fireworks, although he remained tight-lipped about what he'd been doing.
Naturally, I fear the worst.
Anyway, the fireworks display was a great success, passing off without incident or injury.
TT had to be accompanied indoors when any bangers were lit, but apart from that everyone had a wonderful time, and when the pyrotechnics had ended for another year potatoes were baked and marshmallows toasted in the bonfire, all washed down with Mulled Ant Gin!
I hope your Fireworks Night was as successful as ours!
With Hallowe'en out of the way there's only Guy Fawkes' Night to go before we're on the downhill slope to Xmas.
In an unusual break with tradition, Wilson asked me to pop down to the firework shop and choose something as he was 'too busy' working!
He's also delegated Bonfire Building duties to Nërp, with strict instructions to check each piece of wood for insects, and the bonfire as a whole for hedgehogs.
I think Nërp has made a big mistake in asking Uncle Zoltan for bonfire-building advice, but he'll learn…
All this delegation is most unlike Wilson – I hope he can make time in his busy schedule to come and watch the fireworks with the rest of us tonight!
According to Wilson, he has been commissioned by Antsy – the famous but anonymous Graffiti Artist – to sell his iconic piece, Anteater With Balloon.
He says this is a 'unique once-in-a-lifetime opportunity' for you to snap up an 'iconic piece of art' by one of 'Britain's favourite artists'!
Antsy is apparently inviting offers in the region of £1Million (€1,125,360 / $1,277,367) for this 'totes unique piece'.
Cheques and postal orders should be made out to Wilson Vermilingua and sent to him at the usual address.
If it doesn't sell I wouldn't mind hanging it over the mantelpiece in the living room, but Wilson is on what he calls a 'substantial commission' and will doubtless spare no effort to unload it onto some unsuspecting art lover…
Hello, we are Polly and Billi The Bees, and this is our Guest Blog!
Yesterday was Hallowe'en, and it was one of our busiest Hallowe'en nights for years – the children were mostly okay, but some of the people we Trick-or-Treated fainted when they saw us, and had to be revived with Royal Jelly.
Then Wilson singed his sniffer playing with the magic wand Nërp had given him – we can't imagine what N was thinking of, trusting Wilson with something like that!
Finally one or two people rather overdid things at the Surprise Midnight Feast and had to be treated for a surfeit of Skeleton Ant Soup and Vampire Ant Nibbles… not to mention Trick-or-Treat Candy!
Our First Aid Skills were really put to the test!
But hey, we're Bees – we are resilient and resourceful; that's who we are!
Oh, Wilson asked us to mention that he's got something special and unique planned for tomorrow, and you should have your Credit Cards handy!
Anyway, we've been The Bees and we'll see you again next month – until then, BEEEEEEEEEEE GOOD!
As dusk fell, everyone assembled in the front garden ready to go Trick-or-Treating.
Nërp had been extremely thoughtful in his choice of masks – Wilson, Antony and TT all had Plague Doctor masks, which perfectly fitted their faces, and even little Diesel has a Nemo costume!
So that Wilson wouldn't feel underdressed next to Nërp's magnificent costume, N has presented him with what he calls an Authentic Magic Wand.
This appears to be less of a wand, more of a TASER, so I've made him promise to be extremely careful with it and not to cast any spells near people – but he is immensely pleased with it.
When everyone returns, W has laid on a midnight feast of Skeleton Ants Soup and Vampire Ants Nibbles – tempting, but honestly I might give that a miss...
With only one day left until what Wilson is calling 'H-Day', he gathered everyone together to explain about this year's Hallowe'en Masks.
'These masks, which Nërp has kindly supplied, are so petrifyingly chthonic,' he said, 'that even I was deeply affected by their overwhelming terrifyingness the first time I saw them!'
He paused dramatically.
'In view of that, I insist that The Bees (who I trust will be wearing not horrifically demonic masks but their Sexy Nurse outfits) are in attendance tomorrow night to render First Aid and Royal Jelly to anyone overcome with fright at the sight of the masks…'
Polly then suggested that, if the masks are indeed as frightening as Wilson said, perhaps everyone should be given a prophylactic dose of Royal Jelly and – just to be on the safe side – close their eyes while putting them on…
Before Nërp returned to his sanctuary in the bathroom, Wilson asked whether he might see the masks.
Nërp beckoned and Wilson followed him into his lair, while I waited outside.
There was silence for some moments, broken only by several sharp intakes of breath.
Eventually Wilson emerged, ashen-faced and speechless, grasping the bannisters for support.
When he eventually calmed down enough to speak, he told me excitedly, 'We should be okay for candy, anyway! This is going to be the Scariest Hallowe'en EVER!'
While The Bees tended to the fainted children, Wilson took Nërp to one side and demanded an explanation for scaring everyone.
Nërp said no-one had mentioned the tradition of making one's own costume, and as for frightening people, Google had said that (apart from candy) scaring people was the whole point of Hallowe'en.
However, he explained, as it happens he had also bought Hallowe'en Masks for the whole family, and he hopes W could find it in himself to forgive this tactless faux-pas.
Wilson asked if he would at least change out of his costume until Hallowe'en Night – Nërp replied that it had taken so long to apply his make-up etc that it wouldn't be possible, adding that perhaps it would be better if he remained in the bathroom for the time being. Like a Robotic Elephant Man…
I interrupted at this point, to ask whether I might have a shower before he returned.
Wilson dismissed my request out-of-hand, saying I was of far too nervous a disposition to survive seeing the Masks…
