Hendy may not call himself a gourmet but he knows what he likes and equally knows what he doesn't, so he entered the burger joint with very clear idea in his head regarding his order.

He transmitted this equally clearly to the spotty youth behind the counter.

"Give me a burger, just a burger, not a meal, no chips, no drink, no going large!"

Just as the lad was about to write out his order he was distracted by a 'ding' from somewhere or other, and advised Hendy that he must serve the drive thru first, as it was company policy.

Hendy was annoyed about being left standing waiting, so he left the building and, demonstrating the decisiveness which these environmental specialists are renowned, jumped in his car and drove into the drive thru lane.

He drew up to the order point and said: "Give me a burger, just a burger, not a meal, no chips, no drink, no going large!"

The slightly perplexed lad then speedily fulfilled the order and Hendy was on his way with everything he wanted. It is not for us to judge his taste.

* * *

WHEN the flood waters descended on the strath a few weeks ago, we two on the 10th floor simply exchanged nonchalant glances and carried on with our afternoon nap.

We felt sure that in our elevated position no threat was imminent from the rising tide.

After all, only the day before we had restocked the drinks cabinet and filled our American-sized refrigerator with an assortment of snacks, so we could confidently hold out for at least three weeks, if not longer, largely depending on how well we could defend the office from other staff, and in particular a very thirsty editor.

As we were removing the barricades a few days later when the floods had receded somewhat – in fact never actually reached us – the telephone on our desk started to ring.

Stunned for a moment by this unusual event we nervously lifted the receiver, worried that it may be angry next of kin wondering exactly why we had been holed up in the office for three days with a very large supply of booze.

We were more than relived to hear our Aviemore informant on the other end of the line ready to regale us with a story concerning the Old Bridge Inn, in Aviemore.

As it is a lot less elevated than our own lofty retreat it had suffered very badly in the flood, and was up to its barstools in water.

Upon entering the building for the big clean-up, however, staff had wry grins as they noticed banners hanging up on the wall left over from a fund-raising event a few nights previously in aid of the RNLI.

Rumours that Nigel Reid, the lofty owner of the Old Bridge, had foreseen the floods and was planning to organise a booze cruise within the very pub itself are – as we go to press – probably unfounded.

* * *

THE UK's largest online voucher code listing site took an alternative approach to Valentine's Day by sponsoring a pair of endangered snow leopards.

The voucher code discount site is the first of its kind to support such a cause, and is hoping to raise awareness of the plight of the endangered animals and encourage their continued support.

The lucky leopard lovers are residents of Howletts Wild Animal Park in Kent. MyVoucherCodes was hoping that Cakya Muni and his feline fancy Marta would knock the spots off each other on Valentine's Day, and hopefully it won't be long before some cute kitties are on the cards.

As well-intentioned as this tale of animal loving is, we were a bit concerned that the managing director of MyVoucherCodes, Mark Pearson, chose the following words in support of the project: "Having experienced the beauty of these luxurious leopards first hand, it is mortifying to think that these magnificent cats are within a whisker of extinction".

Now it's the use of word "luxurious" in this context that concerns us the most. We simply don't feel that it's a word one would normally associate with a wild animal unless of course it's wrapped around one's neck as a scarf or is stretched out in front of the fire, looking flat.

We can't help wondering that if the leopard in question gets wind of the fact that the MD has been referring to him as luxurious he may well wrap himself around the unfortunate orator's neck, and not with the intention of keeping out the chill either. For that, one requires a wind cheetah.

* * *

OUR elected representatives often give us cause for concern, so we are pleased to find this photo of Provost Ian Malcolm of Aviemore, in the guise of Sheikh Matill, doing a George Galloway.

He is accompanied by two indefatigable maidens and is possibly negotiating a large bribe from the OPEC leaders for his work in ensuring all the extra oil that trucks, cars lorries and buses will have to use to get around the new roundabout at the south end of the village.

The roundabout is so entertaining that we have reports of drivers going around more than once just to enjoy its pleasures for longer.

In Dundee, where our provost originates, they are having traffic trouble at a roundabout on Riverside Drive called the Marmalade Pot Roundabout, which opened up a train of though amongst those of our readers who have not been taking their medication recently.

They thought that the south end roundabout in Aviemore should be given a name that suitably ennobles our provost.

Suggestions to fools.cap@btinternet.com and the best idea will be awarded a bottle of something dramatic, if cheap. (Cillit Bang – Ed.)

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