His Wooden Son
6 February 1996 - HIS WOODEN SON
Pethefenny is a great comfort to me. In the evenings I prop him up over the bottom step and flick bits of food at his little wooden shorts.
He's so funny: every time he gets hit, he clicks his heels together. And if I knock him right over, he rattles about.
The only problem is his tendency to lie. To deal with this, I've developed a system whereby when he tells a lie, I adjust him with a screwdriver.
7 February 1996 - HIS WOODEN SON
Pethefenny's lies are really getting me down. Last night he told me that a man had knocked at the door while I was out, and tried to sell him a load of dodgy tyres.
I investigated his claims and found that the man had in fact been trying to break in. He'd been using an inner tube to smash a window!
Suffice to say, I punished my wooden son by shaving his face off.
8 February 1996 - HIS WOODEN SON
I don't think Pethefenny is very well. This morning when I took him in his cakes, his head had fallen off in the night and rolled under the bed.
When I tried to retrieve it with my foot, I accidentally booted it into the fire. By the time I'd poked it out his face had gone black and one of his eyes was all melted up.
9 February 1996 - HIS WOODEN SON
I've been trying to fix Pethefenny up a bit. I've secured his head down with hawsers and plated his back with brass pipework.
I had trouble getting into the cinema, though. The manager thought he was C3PO and insisted he stand inside the projector and put on a Star Wars show.
It got so hot in there that his arm caught alight. I really panicked, but the audience just laughed.
10 February 1996 - HIS WOODEN SON
Pethefenny and I went on a fishing trip yesterday, but it ended in disaster.
We had just got back into harbour when this big whale rose up out of the sea and sucked us off the deck.
We both ended up stuck in its stinking gizzard. There are loads of other people in here too, including: James Whale, Joanne Whalley-Kilmer and the Prince of Wales (Whales).