Open Air Business April 2017

PERIWINKLE
The battle of the wedding fairs leads to trouble for Periwinkle’s chums
MONDAY
Twistleton-Penge dropped by. He is so full
of entrepreneurial va-va-voom following
his discussion with Fields of Gold - our
consultancy - that I reckon he might burst.
He says he has been inspired by business
advice from me and the boys on getting his
ancestral pile, Squirrelton Hall, to generate
much needed coins of the realm. Upshot?
Wedding Fair on Wednesday. Twistleton-
Penge’s daughter, Daphne, is the event
manager. Daphne is broad of thigh and
dowdier than Tubby’s niece, Freda the
Frump, who was expelled from her convent
school for being too straight-laced.
TUESDAY
Only Tuesday and by golly is this turning
out to be a busy week! Tubby popped in for
breakfast. Said that if the Twistleton-Penge’s
could have a wedding fair so could he (you
can’t keep anything secret for long around
here). He’s going to promote rustic weddings
in the woods round at his place on exactly
the same day. Tubby has organised
a mini-bus of hairdressers,
photographers and caterers to set up
stalls in the woods for prospective buyers.
Mark my words, it’ll end in tears.
The postmistress informs me that Daphne
Twistleton-Penge has dug out her riding
boots from the stables with the intention of
greeting all visitors on horseback on the day
at the main gate.
Tubby has placed adverts in the local
press for a number of al fresco wedding
styles: Posh names like the ‘Rusticana’, the
‘Raggle-Taggle Gypsy’, and the ‘Pastoral’.
But he has gone over the score with the
branding at the bargain basement end of
the market: The ‘Redneck’, the ‘Hillbilly’ and
the ‘Shotgun’. Seems, to me anyway, they all
come down to the same thing really - getting
married in the woods.
The weather man predicts a dry day
tomorrow with highs of 15-17 degrees.
WEDNESDAY
An unexpected phone call from Ms Meadow
Flowers, regarding arrangements for
Woodstock II, meant I could attend neither
Tubby’s nor Twistleton-Penge’s events.
Note to self: Get updates from both parties
tomorrow.
THURSDAY
Police combing Tubby’s woods since
daybreak looking for three missing couples.
Not surprising really - the forest on Tubby’s
estate is so vast that no one would be
surprised if the descendants of Robin
Hood and his Merry Men were discovered
in there somewhere, still splitting the
green wood and whacking each other with
quarterstaffs.
Good news: While combing the woods
for the missing couples police saved a bit of
overtime by simultaneously combing the
woods for Daphne Twistleton-Penge whose
horse got squirrelly when the first guests’
car backfired and bolted in the direction of
Tubby’s spread.
Bad news: The ink on the wrist stamp
used by Tubby’s officials as a pass for
visitors turned out to be indelible.
Solicitors’ have been calling Tubby all day
to warn of pending law suits from young
couples who will have to spend the rest
of their lives with ‘Tubby’s Forest Frolic’
emblazoned on the back of their hands.
A gaggle of local veterinary surgeons
has been bussed in to dislodge deer ticks
off Tubby’s guests’ legs. Tubby is warned
that the solicitors threatening litigation for
the indelible ink intend to join forces with
the solicitors threatening to sue over the
potential for their clients to develop Lyme’s
disease, in a class action likely to quadruple
Tubby’s liability.
FRIDAY
Tubby’s accountant discovered today that
the VISA terminals Tubby rented to take
deposits for venue bookings worked only
sporadically in the woods. This resulted in
transfers being either part financed only,
not financed at all, or even double charged.
Tubby also told me that iPads intended
to allow PayPal payments couldn’t find a
signal and some guests ended up sitting
in their cars in the car park playing Angry
Birds. Which was handy really since it
turned out the weatherman lied and a
thunderstorm of biblical proportions
washed out what remained of the day.
Good news: A police search party
found all three couples, soaking wet and
huddled together to the leeward side of
a fallen tree, crying. Bad news: Two of
the business cards Tubby collected in a
networking frenzy turned out to have been
from drug dealers. A third came from
a Ms Whiplash. The inspector wanted
to know how long these had been
in Tubby’s possession - were they
given to him on the day? Or had he
had these in his wallet long before
that, for personal consumption?
There’s still no sign of Daphne,
though her horse came home on its own
yesterday.
SATURDAY
Given the ineffectiveness of the VISA
terminals, the surprise weather bomb
and the fact that over 50 per cent of
visitors never left the car park, Tubby’s
accountant estimates profits for the day
ranging from a possible loss of £50,000 to a
profit of 86 pence. It’ll take a year to square
the books, Tubby says.
Good news: According to Twistleton-
Penge’s butler, a postcard from Ms Daphne
Penge reached Squirrelton Hall this
morning postmarked ‘Gretna Green’. Turns
out the horse had not bolted at all. Rather
she rode all night to reach Gretna where
she met her secret lover, Cecil, a man far
more Albert Steptoe than Heathcliff. Her
elopement was a bit of a shock to the old
war horse himself, but as he confessed on
the phone, “It’s one less mouth to feed in
these troubling post-Brexit times.”
SUNDAY
Tubby still helping police with their
inquiries.
66 WWW.OPENAIRBUSINESS.COM