Brock Posted May 18, 2018 Share Posted May 18, 2018 Has anyone been gassed until they pass out on a caravan site or is it just limited to Aires and stopovers? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest pelmetman Posted May 18, 2018 Share Posted May 18, 2018 Brock - 2018-05-18 1:51 PM Has anyone been gassed until they pass out on a caravan site or is it just limited to Aires and stopovers? Apparently it only happens when you've necked a few on a motorway aire ;-) ......... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldi Posted May 18, 2018 Share Posted May 18, 2018 Good Afternoon, I reckon its the Russians selling dangerous substances to East European gangsters. So its clearly a job for M I 6. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest pelmetman Posted May 18, 2018 Share Posted May 18, 2018 goldi - 2018-05-18 4:14 PM Good Afternoon, I reckon its the Russians selling dangerous substances to East European gangsters. So its clearly a job for M I 6. Nah........No need to contact MI6....... the "Motorhome Matters" brigade have it in hand ;-) .......... They're busy proving it's impossible :D ......... So expect a RCoA copy and paste sometime soon :-> ....... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Solomongrundy Posted May 19, 2018 Share Posted May 19, 2018 Have you time to read this full and frank confession? 'Allo, it is I, René Francois Artois! And I would like to make a full Gassing confession. You may recall the family who reported being 'gassed' recently in their Motorhome, we in France call them Camping Cars, and many of the publishers of your soon-to-be Chip wrappers spread the news on their front pagers. It was I, my family and colleagues who were the perpetrators of this heinous crime and I would like to explain the circumstances. After the War I moved from my Café in the little village of Nouvion in Northern France to Gouvets where I opened a new Café at a Motorway Service Station My lovely wife Edith, Yvette and Mimi came with me to help and I was lucky to also have Lieutenant Gruber who cooks in the kitchen and goes to the Cash and Carry in his little tank. The incident happened when the family stopped at my little café and parked their Camping Cars in the nearby Service Station car park. They brought their own food with them into the Café and irritated me by not buying any of dear Gubers delightfully cooked produce. They asked for my finest Red wine, I wasn't going to waste any of that on the tight fisted group, and they were given a few bottles of the worst vintage I could muster. During their long drinking session one of the members of the Resistance heard something that they had mentioned and she told me, only the once, they had used the words 'Madonna' and 'big boobs'. This of course brought back memories of the picture of 'The Fallen Madonna and the Big Boobies' by Van Klomp which hasn't been seen in decades and must now be worth a fortune. Apparently they had a suitcase in the Camping Car and there was the possibility that the long lost painting was inside the case. After they left my little Café in an alcohol induced state after drinking the rough, but expensively priced, wine I had so generously served we formed a plan to steal the suitcase and relieve them of the picture of the Madonna and the Big Boobies. When everyone inside the vehicle, suffering from the after effects of my 'finest' wine, finally succumbed to sleep Gruber parked his ageing smoky exhaust emitting little tank next to the Camping Car. He climbed on top of his little tank and lowered a hook on a rope through the open sky light of the Camping Car and, bless him, lifted the suitcase out without disturbing the slumbering occupants. We hurried back to the Café and eagerly opened the case. To our bitter disappointment the suitcase only contained a couple of Madonna DVDs, some sweaty shirts and a couple of bras that would have fitted Mama Cass - and not the picture we so dearly craved. When the family came back to my café the next morning complaining about bad headaches and a stolen suitcase I immediately referred them to Officer Crabtree. His grasp of French and English completely bemused them, their own accent nullifying Crabtrees attempt at sorting out the English version of the problem, and he directed them to our local Hospital for some headache relieving tablets. Yvette and Mimi's daughters work as Nurses at the Hospital, and with my guidance and advice, both girls intimated that it was obviously Carbon Monoxide poisoning that had effected them and not the worst tasting and smelling wine that anyone could possibly consume and get away without severe repercussions. To my horror, and my horror has often been tested, the family claimed thousands of your English pounds for replacing the contents of the stolen suitcase. We didn't see any watches or diamond rings because if we had stolen them Madam Fanny would have been off like a shot to the Préteur and haggled a good price for them – and she didn't. I, Edith, and the two English airmen, who still haven't gone home despite frequent efforts to get rid of them, have trawled the Internet to find the real value of the contents and I'm afraid the optimistic estimate to be round €40 (£32) as most the items we saw were either possibly pirate versions of the delightful Madonna's DVDs or poor quality shirts and bras bought from a market. I admit my involvement in the crime that your Newspapers reported in chilling detail but feel I have truthfully put my side of the story and insist that normally we would only serve such appalling wine to those who are naïve, stupid or downright thick – and that can't be you, can it? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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