Giant Crabs have been terrorising the denizens of Barmouth, a small coastal town in Wales with a big heart. The military have been called in and General Grisedale has called a press conference.
Grisedale: Gentlemen, Gentlemen! Please, If I can have some order. Now I'll be allowing questions one at a time but I must ask you to keep things crab related.
Press Johnny: What can you tell us about reports of giant crabs attacking our coastal defences?
Grisedale: Good question. I can confirm that crabs HAVE been attacking our coastal defences.
Cliff: General, If i might interject...
Grisedale: Ladies and Gentlemen...Dr. Cliff Davenport. (smattering of applause)
Cliff: Gentlemen of the press. And, yes, I see we have one or two ladies here tonight as well. Hello ladies. Gentlemen, the reports have not been exaggerated. I'm an expert in this field and let me tell you these are not ordinary crabs. To use a layman's term of reference these crabs are as big as sheep but their leader, whom I've dubbed "King Crab", well - he's as big as a cow!
(Gasps)
Robson, Examiner: What are the army doing about these so-called giant crabs?
Cliff: Let me be clear. The army has no defences against these crabs. Bullets don't stop them, they just piss them off!
Tindall, Gazette: What can we do about them then? Is humanity doomed?
Cliff: Let's nip these rumours in the bud! (some laughs)Gentlemen this is no laughing matter. What I propose to do is swim down and find the crab's base and destroy it with limpet mines.
Grisedale: Cliff! We haven't discussed this! That's one helluva responsibility.
Cliff: I'm not afraid of responsibility, even if it is a helluva responsibility. I'm an expert in this field General. It has to be me!
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