How do. My name is Selwyn Gumstaff and I’m the Groundsman and Head Gamekeeper of the Hylands Estate. Now usually my job is to keep degenerate riff raff like you off this land, but the Gentleman of The House has obviously had his head turned by some fancy London media type. Against all my words of warning, he has decided to throw open our gates to all you rock and roller hippy traveller types. Seeing as how most of you will be strangers to the courteous ways of the country, it is my duty to introduce you to some of the wildlife that inhabits our grounds. You may see and hear some or all of these creatures during the course of your weekend “rave up”. These are your bedfellows for your weekend of ear splitting debauchery. Treat them with respect, and I wont fill you full of buckshot. Because mark my words, I will be watching you like a hawk. Oh yes. You wont see me. But I’ll see you.
KING LEON WOLF
Come nightfall, the King Leon Lupines can be heard howling mournfully at the moon in a heartfelt fraternal chorus. Although their mangy appearance may provoke pity in the casual visitor, do not be tempted to try and feed these undernourished canines. They may look like man’s best friend, but they’ll have your arm off and carry it away to a cave in the woods before you can say “Southern Fried Rock n Roll”
THE ASHCROFT OWL
Wise beyond his tender years, the Ashcroft Owl’s mournful hooting provides a yearning clarion call for the lost and disaffected wandering through the darkest glades of the modern urban landscape. This sage old bird has migrated from the festival scene many times, only to return when domesticity threatened to render his song mute and when he ran out of cig papers.
HOT CHIP MEERKATS
Have you seen them dancing? Really dancing? These cute little fellows may have the coy and wide-eyed demeanour of a bunch of bookish rodents, but when it gets dark you can spot entire troops of these endearing little fellows strutting their stuff in formation, emitting strange beeps and bleeps from their scrawny little throats.
MUSEOSAURUS
Dinosaurs may be extinct in the rest of the natural world, but someone forgot to tell the Museosaurus. Lumbering relentlessly around the globe like a gigantic touring Godzilla, every thundering footstep laid down by this three headed behemoth sends symphonic shock waves around the planet. Probably the only surviving beast of the ancient Progrockacious Era, the Museosaurus thrives in the wide-open spaces of the festival environment.
STEREOPHONIC PIT PONY
A trusty old work horse of the festival scene, the Stereophonic Pit Pony tends to trundle along in a trad rock furrow of it’s own distinct making. Unless of course it gets stung on the arse by a wasp, when it suddenly rears up into a flaming nostrilled stallion and goes galloping over the hillside in a screech of feedback and a thunder of hooves.
LENNY KRAVITZ
Lenny the Lion has been a fixture on the rock n roll landscape since the year dot. Tossing his mane proudly as he struts to the watering hole, this regal old feller has lost none of his charm and pizzazz. He may be a tad lead legged when it comes to rutting lady lions these days, but when it comes to natural showmanship there are none dandier than Len.
PEACH FACED GIRLS ALOUD LOVE BIRDS
Their delicate nature led many to believe that these gloriously plumaged birds would wither and fall from their perch in the harsh and unforgiving glare of the hardcore rock n roll woodland. Far from it – wherever a spotlight falls, these melodious songstresses positively flourish.
THE PRODIGY PEACOCK
With it’s garish plumage, bristling stance and shrill piercing shriek, the Prodigy Peacock is a bird of both beauty and menace. It’s natural habitat is the open fields of South East England strutting manically to a repetitive beat whilst gurning at all and sundry. Breathtaking in full flight, but tends to frighten very young children.
KING BROWN MONKEY
His shuffling gait and heavy lidded demeanour may lull the casual observer into thinking the King Brown Monkey spends his days lolling around in trees and scratching his hairy belly whilst staring up at the sky. But underestimate him at your peril – he may smoke his own bodyweight in vegetation every morning, but the King Brown Monkey is a keen exponent of simian martial arts. One false move and he’ll chop your hands off.
THE POGUE MAHONE PIG
Imported from the rolling green pastures of rural Ireland, there is nothing this aged beast likes better than wallowing in a field full of mud and swill whilst banging a tin tray repeatedly against it’s skull. Has been sent to the butchers on several occasions to be chopped up into bits of breakfast, only to escape to the nearest boozer and spend the day swilling from the trough and shitting itself.
Right, you’ve been warned. You might think you’re all hip and groovy, with your modern music and your “gear”, but remember – the countryside has a code. Break it at your peril. And if you or any of your bloody teepees are still here on Monday morning, I’ll set the bloody dogs on you.
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