Water, water everywhere

I'VE come to the conclusion that there is nothing worse than getting a phone call from Tricky Trev.

You know exactly the question he is about to pose.

And he does it in such a way that it is difficult, almost impossible, to simply say "No".

And besides, I don't believe the word "No" is one that he would accept.

So there I was being requested - perhaps, I should say, ordered - to be placed in a ducking stall. (And the fact that Tricky Trev can complete his list of unsuspecting victims to this outrageous act of public humiliation).

Of course, I should have known better, as this was the second year I succumbed to his persuasion.

Although there was a time when I was almost down on both knees - I thought that would be the right approach to someone who was organising a church event - pleading that I could not do such a thing again.

The memory of last year still gives me sleepless nights.

But Tricky Trev is just too convincing and, as Shakespeare would have said, it was once more to the breach.

To make matters worse, our mayor, Cllr Paul Grimes, could not hide his delight in demonstrating his almost perfect aim, and not once, but twice, giving me a soaking as a gallon of water cascaded from the bucket above.

Let me tell you, he has become a marked man - and he has actually volunteered to be a "victim" next year. Remember you read it here, so make sure that he is reminded, constantly.

But really, I think we have to devise a way of stopping Tricky Trev.

There must be something in health and safety rules that could put an end to this now annual ritual of water torture.

After all, those people who endlessly produce such ridiculous rules that seem so unnecessary should have the common sense to be able to come up with a reason for stopping an activity which could be seriously damaging to our health.

Well, mine at least.