It was a dark and misty night, fog had slowly set in over the small venture scout unit in an isolated campsite somewhere in Scotland when from the midst of the fog a hill appeared, and on the hill was a house. One member of the 44th VSU piped up...
"You see how that mist is clearing around that house?"
"Yeah"
"Well that's all because of Mrs McDooley & her wee doogie..."
As the mist gathers over the hills at Monreith a blanket descends over the coast. A large shadow looms high up on the hill: Monreith house - the remains of a once grand manor.
In the house lived Mrs McDooley, an old woman whose only companion is a small white Scottish Terrier. She gets up from her comfortable red armchair, straightens her large owl-like spectacles and tidies her white curly hair. It was that time of the week when Mrs McDooley usually did her vacuuming. She had recently purchased a new hoover; it was a Dyson dual-cyclone vacuum cleaner. Mrs McDooley was eager to try this new technology but what she was unaware of, was the severe consequences of her actions...
Humming a long forgotten melody, Mrs McDooley began to extract the dust from her carpet.
The suction power of her new vacuum cleaner was immense, so immense in fact that it was capable of sucking the fog in through her windows. Her home was filled with fog as the mist was sucked in through every hole in the house; letterbox; window frame; chimney; the house soon had zero visibility. From the mist came a brief howl then a strange sucking noise and a scrabbling sound...
On the campsite below all the mist had vanished and the howling could be heard for miles around, nobody knew what the monstrous noise could be.
In her house Mrs McDooley was able to see again, the mist was now contained inside her Dyson - as was the dog. Her "wee doogie" was spinning around inside the cyclone that now acted as a blender. The white fluffy appearance slowly became red as the dog was liquefied...
So if ever you find yourself in Scotland, and the mist begins to clear around a certain large house, high up on a hill, and you hear a ghostly howl, you may have found the home of Mrs McDooley and her (late) wee doogie.
Jon ("The Cripple")