Fresh from their holiday in lovely Quakland, Surfin' and Voodoo were so impressed that they decided to go their and by themselves a timeshare. Now, a holiday in Quakeland; which you all saw in our lovely postcards; looks a lot different from a timeshare on the luxurious Costa Del Gib. So, kitted up in yet another derivation of the Surfin' Melons' Uniform, Melon and Bird went out wandering, ready to meet their new neighbours, the folks they'd now be spending at least a fortnight a year with.
It was looking like it was going to be a relaxing first week in the Costa del Gib. But, Surfin' wanted to go exploring, find all the cute little ethnic shops, meet the locals and so on. But it looked like dragging Voodoo Melon out of his sun lounger was going to be the hardest bit of the whole holiday.
"We're lost," said Surfin' within about five minutes. "Git," said Voodoo Melon. Having a brainflash, Surfin' decided to ask a nice policeman where to go to get a bite to eat. Whipping out the phrase book, Surfin' managed to get out about seven syllables before giving up. Unfortunately, the seven syllables he chose were Spanish for "Hey, your momma's so stoopid, she took a spoon to the Superbowl!" The results were predictable. Oops.
"I can see our apartment from here!" Luckily, Voodoo manages to find an interesting way to spot the Peevish Ministerial Housemoth Jelly Bag Hotel (random words © Collins Dictionary) from within the depths of the shopping district in the Costa Del Gib.
"D'you come here often, darlin'..?" After visiting some interesting Spanish nightclubs along the Costa Del Gib, Surfin' Bird and Voodoo Melon suddenyl realise that there isn't any limit to what you'll do when suitably bevvied.
When shopping for souveniers, Voodoo and Surfin' decided that there was something very unusual about the salesman in the quaint little Spanish shop.... as he scrabbled under his desk for something he called the "tourist eviscrator," our heroes decide that perhaps leaving now would be very rude, but likely to increase their lifespan somewhat. Yikes.
Surfin' decides that the trip home wasn't very interesting, and needed a little more excitement. Despite Voodoo being completely unable to hear a word he said, Surfin' challenges his buddy to a quick game of "Dodge the Missile."
Voodoo loses Dodge the Missile.
As is traditional on holiday, tempers in the Surfin' Melons camp flare up a little when an arguement breaks out over who's going to have to get up early to sweep up last night's cockroach corpses. As the first to reach the Surfin' Melons' Ceremonial Holiday Axe, Voodoo wins the arguement. Convincingly. "Suck it down," yells Voodoo, scaring Surfin' beyond all reasonable comprehension.
It's the Surfin' Melons' production of "Sleeping with the Enemy," except starring Surfin' Bird and a Vore instead of Julia Roberts. We reckon it's a sure-fire blockbuster.
"Simon says; put your hands on your head!" Voodoo Melon joins in the festivites before leaving for home, while Surfin' Bird finds out graphically why you shouldn't let your mates swing axes about during a party. Ouch.
And so that was it. Sporting rather sore heads, numerous battle wounds, hundereds of missing limbs, and an unusual will to return again, Surfin' and Voodoo make it back from their first holiday to their very own timeshare in Quakeland. So, what was their impression of the Costa Del Gib? We'll leave the final word up to them:
Voodoo Melon: My impression was a really good one of Rolf Harris.
Surfin' Bird: I hear the Costa Del Frag is available for bookings. We could leave next week.
Voodoo Melon: Let's go for it.
Surfin' Bird: Yeah.
And so, the boys jet off again to frag and be fragged in some far-flung corner of the globe. And you can be sure that as soon as they've recovered enough to tell someone about it, and had their films back from Boots, you'll hear about it first here!
From our travel correspondant, Salty Basket.
