ZANG TUMMM TUMB ARTICLES “the first draft of history”

Frankie faxninfo: the band, staying in the wilds of Southern Ireland are not playing golf, tennis and fishing, as some wag told Fleet Street last week. A real Frankie day goes as follows. 2pm: Get Up. Scran. 3pm: Work. Mucking About. Rehearsals. 9pm: Right lads down the pub and whos getting the ale in?

A minor accident occurred in their Boris Karloff gaff last week when Nasher accidentally-on-purpose let off a fire extinguisher in Mark OTooles face. A concerned Ped explained that it probably wasnt fatal while a furious Paul Rutherford forced the errant pranksters to clean all the goo goo muck off his clothes and the carpets and wouldnt let them have any tea until the job was done.

Other Frankie tricks at the moment are that none of them are shaving (except Holly) for some reason connected with this very magazine. Not so as youd notice mind. Finally, theyve taken to calling each other by their first names in very polite tones. ie. “Oh Holly dear, would you like another drink Holly?” What a caution…