Legendary beast sighted in London

Anthropologists across the world spoke today of their excitement over reported sightings of "Homus Plumberus" for the first time in a decade.

The people historians have been flocking to London after an initial sighting a week ago was subsequently confirmed by two other sources.

Homus Plumberus can be easily identified by its protruding buttock cheeks and a characteristic rasping sound produced when the creature sucks air through its teeth in response to threatening questions.

Preying on the elderly, women and those who lack basic DIY skills, the predatory creature was once a common sight in our nation's capital and carved out a comfortable niche for itself by replacing perfecting functional equipment while diverting the victim with incomprehensible pipe-related jargon.

During the 1980s however, its numbers began to dwindle for reasons still not fully understood. One theory ventures that it was driven out by hounding from consumer watch groups, another claims that it remains in the capital's streets but has grown so apathetic this it is unable to get off the sofa.

Recently however, there have been a number of claims of plumbers attending properties within the city. None has yet been caught on camera and so we at The Rockall Times set out to see if we couldn't bag ourselves one.

In a rigorous study, our boffins rented a house in the heart of the city to which they hoped to lure out the plumber. This involved setting bait at the front of the house. After consultation of the archives at the Museum of Natural History, a trail of used five-pound notes was laid up the garden path, leading to a cup of tea containing forty sugars. A crudely lettered sign saying "Plumber Wanted" completed the picture.

The team hopes were raised when, after a couple of hours in the garden shed hide, a man in scruffy overalls wandered up the path gathering the money as he went. Anticipation levels reached fever pitch when the individual then drank the sugar-laden tea without gagging.

Sadly, the teams hopes were dashed when the man offered to ret-tarmac the drive "really cheap loike" — thus revealing himself as the common "Dodgus Builderus". We re-laid the bait and settled down again.

Three hours later and another overall encrusted individual made his way up the path. He said he was working "in the area" and would pop back "in twenty minutes". Nine days later he reappeared and was taken to the kitchen to view the boiler. After an inspection lasting just 8.6 nanoseconds, he waved a foot in the vague direction of the boiler and announced that the "wobble sprocket was knackered".

We thought we had our specimen but to make sure we ask what a wobble sprocket was. We were informed it was part of the "grunge drive pinion" and he had "never seen one as bad as this before". Bingo! And then an unexpected treat in the form of a quote for £9,547.75 for fixing the "problem". We truly had stumbled across a fine example of this rare and unbeautiful animal.

Next week

"Oooooh, dear oh dear love. Looks nasty. It's gonna cost ya. Cash only, mind. Got any biscuits?"