Tuesday, 19 January 2010

Trainee Hypnotist Puts Himself Into A Trance


Mr. & Mrs. Bawler

A newly trained hypnotist accidentally put himself into a trance for five days while practising in front of a mirror.
Mr. Dennis Bawler, 62, was found by wife, Janet, staring into thin air at their Lytton Strachey home.
Mr. Bawler, whose stage name is Count Louis Beauvois, was learning to put himself into a trance to help him swallow worms on stage.
He had been taught the skill by hypnotherapist Professor Darby Munson to assist in a new act for the East Effscott Easter Fair show.
But as he practiced the skill in front of the mirror on Wednesday last he set himself into a deep sleep until Monday evening, when he was found by his wife who had been away visiting Bristol Zoo.
It was only after she phoned Professor Munson and put the receiver to Mr. Bawler's head that he could be talked out of the trance.
Mrs. Bawler said her husband had looked just like a shop dummy when she came into the room to find him.
She said: “I tried to ask him what was wrong but he didn’t answer and it was then I looked at the chair behind him and saw a book named Hypnosis Medicine of the Mind. It was opened on page 45 and a chapter named hypnotic anaesthesia and I realised there was something wrong. It was only then I noticed a letter next to the book a letter from his mentor, Professor Munson, and I knew what I had to do.”

11 comments:

Webley-Bullock said...

Oh dear, this is worrying...

I heard once that he did exactly the same thing while overtaking the Landlord's record of eighteen Glenmorangies in three hours at The Three Cocks!

It was chaos!

What he saw in the mirror behind the bar was actually a cardboard cut-out of Hailsham-Hogg doing the Tango at the Guildford and District Square Dancing Winter Ball!

Just ask Doris, she pulled him there!

Disgusting!

Miranda W-B

And don't think I'm a pushover this time; you rapscallion you...X

Dr. Edward Mayhap Cuddler (Dr (Witch)) said...

Any trance or induced comatose state should be carried out only under the following strict guidelines.
1: With the guidance of myself, your trusted Doctor Edward Mayhap Cuddler and my valued nurse Sandy, using strictly controlled prescription only drugs or
2: As a result of shamanic dancing.

Cuddler

Habgood Gum said...

They fat article needs to get hiself along to Cuddler's Fat Loosers club. Mebey wee a'bit o'fluence on't all them fatties they might get thersens a bit more on't lean side.
Did Mrs Bawler git hersen then fur coat from they Bristol Zoo?

T. P. Fuller said...

Miranda, do you have your own tale to tell of Mr. Bawler? He does have bedroom eyes...

Heskett Bellé-Sauvage said...

Füller!

It’s been a time. Indeed, at the risk of sound too familiar, I’d say it’s been a ruddy long time since I struck you last behind your knees with my walking cane of political good sense. The world has changed considerably since I last dragged an unconscious man’s heels across your turf and buried him beneath your begonias. Lots of water under the bridge, pigs up the alley, and a good deal of quality manure spread around Aunt Harrot’s string beans. Lots of quality metaphors lost to the cause. Lots lost in this paragraph but there you go. The price of democracy is the death of metaphor. And you can quote me on that.

I say it’s been a time but we’ve not been idle. My Man has gone out and bought himself a moustache, worn it through the summer, before razing it in the autumn in the hope of promoting grown in the spring. As for me, I have undergone a transformation of my very own. I don’t mean anything as extreme as a moustache. What I’m referring to is a hardening of my views and a new blooming of my ambition. You’ll find a much changed Heskett Bellé-Sauvage sitting in his slippers and dictating this in his dragon embroidered kimono. He has been encouraged to return to his memoirs at this time by the hand of a particularly prescient Fate. But I know what you’re thinking. You’re sitting there, comfortable in your little council owned hovel, thinking: the last thing the world needs is a white bread country squire. But you’d be wrong. So very, very wrong.

Too long has this country of ours ignored the concerns of the landed gentry, the land owners, the business titans, the Bellé-Sauvage Family. My truth is a victory for all of you who have felt the oppressors heel, sniffed our socks, and indeed, tasted the very boot polish on the tips of your tongue.

What has happened to me since last you heard of my exploits? Well, I ask, what hasn’t happened to me? My memoirs were due to be published this year but the powers that be soon put a stop to that. Many lumps of stringed wax were sacrificed to long Westminster nights as political heavyweights assessed the harm that my confessions might make if they ever saw publication. The conclusions they reached might not be ready by public eyes for another forty years but I can show you what they mean in real terms. I have been the victim of the security services taking an interest in my affairs and My Man has bagged himself more than one MI5 agent snooping around the estate.

In fact, the sound of constant gunfire has made it quite difficult. It’s hardly the sort of place a man of quality tweed likes to be seen.
There will come a time when people will seek me out and I intend to be there when they do their seeking. In the meantime, I’ll be here.

Dr. Edward Mayhap Cuddler (Vet. (amateur)) said...

You know, I try to rise above it and maintain my station but sometimes even my patience is tested and I seethe.
GOSLING: need I remind you that it was you that approached me, in an unofficial capacity, to treat your 'unusual' symptoms and need I remind you that my veterniary studies were undertaken in my own time and at my own, not inconsiderable expense, only to reflect my abbiding love of livestock? Further to which, let me point out that you have not succumbed to hoof rot, foot and mouth, scrapie or any of the other beastial ill humors so prevealant and dangerous? Thus showing the efficacy of my ministrations (and you had no need of bending forward to touch your toes as I did so, they are all ORAL vaccines).

T. P. Fuller said...

I imagine your patients are sorely tried Dr. Cuddler.

Heskett Bellé-Sauvage said...

Cuddler is a fine general practitioner. When my sister Jingle lost the strength in her fists, last autumn, he certainly put the spunk back into her.

Dr. Edward Mayhap-Cuddler (Dent.) said...

Heskett Belle-Sauvage, I thank you for your firm support. I am a man as much misunderstood as misunderstanding.
Fuller: Your personal prescription for Health Service Bromide and Almond Oil is rescinded. You can pay full price in future.

T. P. Fuller said...

I ask your pardon Dr. Cuddler. T'was a spelling error only.

Heskett Bellé-Sauvage said...

Dr. Cuddler, (with the exception of that evening at Brixham Harbour, when it assuredly was not me) I have always stood foursquare behind you. You are after all a man after my own heart!

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