AN Abergavenny man who just wanted to kill some wild pigs in the Forest of Dean has alleged that “the illegal hunt went sideways” after he and his friends had their whiskey spiked with acid by a psychic called Steve.

“Originally, Indiana Jenkins told us Steve was a necromancer,” explained semi-professional long-distance runner Johnny Turnip. “And that we needed his blessing to hunt wild boar or risk the seventh torment!"

Turnip added, “To be honest we thought Indy was a clown but we were a bunch of Welsh boys in an English forest, and you know how weird they can get on that side of the border. We decided not to upset the natives and get the boss wizard’s blessing."

Turnip revealed that as they approached the magic man’s lair things began to go a little pear-shaped.

“Suddenly I began talking all flowery like some sort of perfumed ponce who had just necked a bottle of opium,” explained Turnip. “Big Tony had it worse, he started barking like a dog and cocking his leg on nearby trees. Meanwhile, Puerto Rico Paul had begun doing the river dance while reciting nursery rhymes and Indy was busting aggressive yoga moves like a new age mum.”

Turnip explained, “Indy had warned us that the necromancer would probably put some sort of weird spell on us as we approached his cabin, and his prediction proved right.

“However, after downing half a bottle of whiskey to counter the magician’s influence I had that familiar feeling you get when a bad trip wears off and realised this was no spell but the purple haze! We had been spiked!”

Turnip added, “I quickly worked out that Indy must have been in league with the necromancer and dropped a few tabs into the bottle of whiskey we shared the previous night.

“The thing is the dozy tart had gone and spiked himself but I supposed he had to for the scam to be plausible. Anyhow, I now had this David Blaine wannabe’s number, and leaving the boys to their trip I knocked on the door of his cabin ready to go to war!”

Turnip revealed that when the ‘necromancer’ finally appeared from behind a cloud of coloured smoke and puffing on his vape, he instantly recognised him.

“This was no magi or high priest of the dark arts,” explained Turnip. “It was Steve the psychic. He used to run a spiritualist night at the Mardy Village Hall every Thursday before he mysteriously disappeared like a thief in the night!

“Some say he had taken out one too many PayDay loans to fund his online gambling addiction and needed to do a vanishing act. But if you need to lay low in a place no one ever goes, why not choose Talgarth?”

Turnip explained that when Steve appeared he was “still very much into his necromancer’s act and hadn’t realised his ruse had been rumbled!”

He added, “As the smoke cleared I saw his weasel-like face smirk at Tone, Paul, and Indy who were valiantly fighting off the effects of their trip. I simply gazed at him all cool and stony-faced like Michael Corleone in The Godfather and said, ‘I know it was you, Steve. It was always you!’

“He just looked at me all haughty like he’d never done tarot card readings for a fiver in a caravan at the Steam Rally and said, ‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t Potato Bill, Portugal Polly and Little John.’

"I just tried not to laugh, stood my ground, and replied, ‘You know our names, Steve! It’s Johnny Turnip, Puerto Rico Paul, and Big Tony!’”

Turnip explained, “He just pulled this tired expression and snarled, ‘Because those names are a lot less comical aren’t they my wandering anus.’ I ignored his pathetic attempts at humour and warned him, ‘Laugh it up dickhead! When Tone stops thinking he’s a dog you’re in a world of trouble pal. He’s never liked you. He may forgive you for telling his missus that the spirits said he was a wrong un! But when you spiked his drink you crossed the Rubicon. Why’d you do it, Steve? What you playing at!'”

Turnip explained, “As I talked Big Tony had begun making these weird whimpering sounds like my old bitch Kipper used to do every time there was a thunderstorm. To make matters worse Puerto Rico Paul had moved on from the river dance and was hopping around on one foot muttering that if both feet touched the ground the devil and all his legions would claim him. I shouted, ‘Will you two tarts cut it out? Anyone would have thought you had never done shrooms before! This is in no spell. It’s the purple haze! You’re tripping! This bastard spiked us!’ I said while pointing theatrically at Steve the psychic. ‘Now get the whiskey from the bag and man up!’”

Turnip explained, “As the boys and Indy started necking the spirits and feeling better. I turned to Steve and said, ‘I’ll ask you again. Why’d you put acid in our whiskey dude? That’s a bit uncivilised, even for a necromancer!’

"This time around the sturm and drang seemed to leave Steve completely. He dropped his act and sighed, ‘Ok lads’ he said. ‘You’ve got me. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but after consulting with the Arch Wizard Earl Elderflower about the prophecy of the three unwise men and confirming that Indy was indeed five hundred years old, I had no choice.

“Men have been seeking the gift of immortality and eternal life since time began and when I found the hapless three promised to end the curse were lost in the woods I knew the gift of ages was but a stone’s throw away.’”

Turnip said, “I just looked at him and tried to think of something clever to say but all I could think of was, ‘Oh!’

"To be honest I was dead on my feet. The lack of sleep, booze, and acid had taken their toll. All I wanted was a pork pie and a place to rest my bones, but once again I feared that somehow me and the boys were being called upon to save the world!”

To be continued….