THE GREAT POLTROON CRAVAT

LISTEN TO OR READ MURDER MYSTERY TV REVIEW – ‘WHO FARTED IN PARADISE?’ by Triumph Nostalgia.

Well this is cosy isn’t it? Very cosy indeed. A televisual outing to The Lake District - a small cabal of entitled twats, a fluffy dog with the nose of a top detective and two batty old women very much keeping each other alive by going around being fucking bonkers. Two minutes in and I’m being pleasantly distracted from all the other things I’ve got to bloody think about and already SIR RONALD ‘TODGER’ LEGSPIN has tried to kill himself breaking the World Record for sponging off his Aunt.

“Give me another 10 thousand quid or it’ll be the worse for you!” he shouts at her in what he believes to be an otherwise empty house. Unfortunately the heated exchange is overheard in its entirety by POLTROON CRAVAT – a world famous detective, who happens to be passing at the behest of token posh Englishman SIR HUGH TEDIUM.

TODGER attempts to pass it all off as ‘banter’ but that’s not going to wash with the great POLTROON CRAVAT – a man who’s already looked at two murders and worked out who done it mate.

SIR HUGH introduces POLTROON to a motley crue who for all I know might all turn out to have been involved in the ghastly murder that's about to take place. There's DR JOHN PRITCHARD, a fine upstanding pillar of the community who’d never dream of straying from two minutes of missionary and TULIP LONGFELLOW, a woman he keeps standing next to and kissing and touching. There’s LOUIS BAGUETTE, a Frenchman immediately assumed to be the culprit because he isn’t from these fair isles and his wife BERNADETTE and their three little children. The two old bats and the dog round off the cast.

When AUNT VERITY is found gagged and bound to a chair in the garage in the early hours, everyone assumes she’s got confused again because she’s so old and wealthy but the great POLTROON CRAVAT suspects different and when VERITY finally does die after accidentally falling into Lake Windermere, apparently having tied herself inside a sack of rocks, the great detective asks every character a lot of questions, looking increasingly pleased with himself before he finally orders them all to sit mutely in a room together until he reveals who farted in paradise.

It wasn’t the dog, or the doctor. Or the two old bats or the French bloke. It wasn’t Sir Hugh Tedium either mate. He’s never done anything of note his whole life and he’s not about to start now.

Triumph Nostalgia.

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