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In the troubled Dentine Colliery, further scandal has erupted after management, rather than investigate the actual cause, poured 20 gallons of minty toothpaste down the main mine shaft in order to “stop it stinking like a dogs breakfast”. Unfortunately, 20 miners were still in the mine at the time and are now trapped with no way of getting past the gloopy barrier.
One senior official, upon being interviewed last week described the mine as “Smelling like the back end of a chav’s pub after happy hour”.
The scene around the mine this morning was a picture of serene chaos, with camera crews and reporters running around like headless gormless chickens amongst piles of empty toothpaste tubes. One reporter likened it to a rather shabby but fresh smelling hippy war zone.
Shortly after the fairly accurate comment was made, a drab and dreary looking spokesman for Dentine’s mine emerged from the site office. He gathered reporters and gawkers in the least manky looking spot he could find, introduced himself as ‘the only one around here with any chuffing sense’ and read out this hastily scrawled statement. “For the time being, we have erected a pine scented security cordon around the mine. This ring will hopefully instil confidence in our ability to not cock it up completely. Yes, we are aware that there are miners still in the mine, but we have received reports that they’re fine.”
He was interrupted when a bright pink helicopter heralded the unscheduled arrival of the mine’s paisley-shirted owner, Michael Dentine. Mr. Dentine upon exiting the helicopter, strode over to the press group, pushed his spokesman out of the way and started addressing the crowd.
Mr Dentine claimed it was all alright and there was “sod all to worry about. It’s just some chuffing toothpaste and everything was going to be bloody great.”
When asked why they put toothpaste down the mine, he responded with a very camp angry outburst: “We had to sort out the stench didn’t we, Mr. Chowderhead reporter. Bad smell in coal mine, we add good smell, bad smell go away. Duuuhhhh!” During this burst of sparkling repartee, his spokesman slouched back into the site office, muttering something about “a canine short of a denture”.
Mr. Dentine was further incensed when one of the gawkers asked why he hadn’t simply found out the cause of the bad odour and removed it. His vitriolic response went: “Look you pug-faced pillock, I don’t tell you how to be a slack-jawed berk do I? So if I stay off your case, you get off of mine. Now go away and let me deal with this situation in peace.” With the gawking fools admonished, he skipped into the site office and slammed the door.
Billy Frogdirt, a behatted reporter from the Weekly Slime compounded matters by banging on the office door and demanding that they use dental floss in some way.
Mr. Dentine’s response to this demented outburst was to throw open the windows and chuck rice balls at Mr. Frogdirt until he backed off. Mr Dentine was last heard to be shouting something incoherent about using plaque acid before slamming the windows shut in a huff.
After this sad debacle of a press conference, the reporters and gawkers were ushered to a safe zone while workers started to clear up the empty tubes in preparation for whatever the weird haired fruitcake would dream up next.
At the time of writing, the miners were still trapped beneath a layer of mint-flavoured gunk, and all of the ridiculous, futile and downright stupid things that Mr. Dentine has tried have failed.