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Tom Riach
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Tom Riach   My Press Releases

Petrus And A New F1 Season

Published on 3/12/2014
For additional information  Click Here


'Petrus and a New F1 Season' is the 1st in my 'Petrus F1' series of original copyrighted satirical sketches written by Tom Riach (that's me above) from my home in the sunny south of Portugal.

Petrus F1
Tom Riach's Daily View Of The World!


Petrus is an avid Formula One follower. So not surprisingly he is confused. And with a name like Petrus he obviously enjoys the odd glass or three of wine, consumed at the mythical Woolsack pub which is frequented by a motley crew of equally befuddled fellow Formula One addicts. Petrus attracts scrapes effortlessly, is shamelessly promiscuous and is known to consult an ample-bosomed psychotherapist with a uniquely intimate bedside manner. Read on ....


Looking forward to a pending GP season is akin to relishing the prospect of a bloody nose in a bar room brawl ..... so I headed to the Woolsack!

Shortly after I arrived there, Lewis Hamilton came in. He had with him an alligator on a lead! "Do you serve Tifosi here?" he asked Dan, who was just coming to behind the bar where she had passed out the previous night. "Yes", she replied, "Is that a problem?" "Not at all", said Lewis, " A pint of Old Stoat's Breathe for me and two Tifosi for the alligator!"

Now .... I happened to hear this as I was by now nursing my glass of '66 in a nearby corner whilst glued to the Sporting Post's 'Girls With Whips' special supplement. (I was glued to it as Sid had been playing silly beggars with the super-glue again). Concealed so however, Mr. and Mrs.Paddock Bend (as avid Ferrari fanatics as ever worshipped at Maranello) did not observe me when they entered and sat alongside. I could not help but overhear their conversation.

Looking mischievously into Mrs.PB's eyes her husband said, "Do you remember that it was thirty years ago today that we first made love against the fence out back here? What say that we do it again now, bring in the new F1 season with a bang?" "You old devil," replied Mrs.Paddock Bend, fluttering her eyelashes coyly and dragging her husband half kicking to the back door. "This," I thought, "I must see!"

So I hurried to the window and, picking shreds of Sporting Post from my eyes, peered out. Mamma Mia! It was explosive! As soon as the PBs got to the fence they started frantically tearing at each other like rabid ferrets! And the frenzied screaming, gyrating, clutching and clawing continued for a full thirty steaming minutes before they collapsed to the ground. It was a further twenty minutes before they stirred, struggled to their feet and, grasping the tattered remnants of their clothes around them, staggered back into the pub - where they promptly fell in to the Shergar-hair settee in front of the fire.

(This settee, by the way, is one and the same as the Woolsack had acquired a few years earlier from a family of itinerant Irish travellers who, at the same time, had also supplied the landlord with 500 pounds of quite superb steak from a 'never-to-be-repeated secret source'. I know that the steaks were excellent as I ate two for lunch that same day and afterwards ran the six furlongs to Elsie Clitorit's cottage in 60 seconds flat)! ..... but I digress .... .

I could not resist but approach Mrs.PB and confess that I had witnessed the remarkable 'performance' of she and her husband. "Why is your face covered in newsprint?" she puzzled. "Just head lines," I quipped, then pressed on, "Out there in the yard, that was fantastic, unbelievable. Please, please,” I enthused, “You must tell me the secret of your incredible libido?" Mrs.Paddock Bend, still barely able to speak, stammered painfully, "Thirty years ago the f-f-f-fence wasn’t electrified!!!!"

I was about to jest that Mick B would deride her use of performance-enhancing technology and Achilles consider it 'cheating' when Dan came over. "Strange fellow," she commented, nodding towards Lewis Hamilton who was just leaving. "Ah, the pet alligator?" I said. "No, the Old Stoat's Breathe," she replied, "He had me fill two jerry cans of it and says he'll send a van to collect another 200 litres later!??!"

Mention of a van reminded me that the 'yellow' one was waiting outside to take me to my scheduled consultation with my amorously eccentric shrink, so I retrieved my precious '66 from among the Kimi-Is-God communion wine (where Mouse had sought to conceal it), and left. On my way out I passed the alligator headed towards the two medium-rare Tifosi still smouldering on the settee ......... I pulled my Team
Lacoste jacket around my shoulders and thought that we'll not be hearing much more from the PBs this season!


Tom Riach lives and works in the sunny south of Portugal. I carry out all types of Writing Assignments – Articles, Content, Copy, Business Plans, Website Scripts and Short Stories and Humourous, Satirical, Sporting and Topical Reference Pieces like the one above. I'll write anything, any style for anybody! Just contact me as below.

Petrus and a New F1 Season

My Office In The Algarve


EMail :

Tel : (00 351) 914 021 159

Website : Tom Riach - Freelance Writer


is an original copyrighted Tom Riach satirical sketch. I hope you enjoyed reading about 'Petrus and a New F1 Season' and found it entertaining. To learn more about my work, inquire re.commissions or just to get in touch with me please visit me on my website at TOM RIACH, FREELANCE WRITER

See you there! Regards, Tom.

©Copyright Joseph T.Riach 1998-2015. All rights reserved.

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