The Royal Court heard yesterday how Retcombe Hawkes, 29, used his 2002 Peugeot 306 as a homemade iron lung for his aunt, Ms Iris Clipton, without adequate insurance.
Representing himself, Mr Hawkes, who described his profession as “nounist”, pleaded not guilty and asked Jurat Weatherpocket for leniency in light of “certain voles” that wanted to “show the Jurat what they’ve done with the yellow room”. When Jurat Weatherpocket asked Mr Hawkes “How do you know about the voles?” Hawkes replied, “Iris needs just one more pelt.”
Following a brief adjournment Mr Hawkes requested he be allowed to send an apology “to the man crying in the yellow room”, whereupon a tearful Jurat asked Mr Hawkes to “please get out of my head” before promptly dismissing the case.
The Royal Court heard yesterday how Amulet Le Page, owner of Mill Street healing boutique You’ve Been Jaded, stopped an opportunist thief in his tracks by harnassing the power of crystals.
Last December 21-year-old Martin Martbart found the door to the boutique was open and, evading the store’s Tiger’s Eye defenses, swiftly emptied the till of the week’s takings.
Martbart rushed outside followed by Le Page who had expertly coupled an Isis Quartz Generator onto a tourmaline cluster, creating a powerful ionotropic field.
“I amplified the ionic flow by diverting it through my spleen,” the Court heard, “then I aimed it squarely at his third chakra.”
Martbart’s energy grid was thus pinned to the diorite cobbles, whose zircon/magnetite compound instilled in him a sense of calm and balance, allowing Le Page time to channel the police. Arresting officers later recovered a haul of fifty pence pieces amounting to one pound.
Addressing the Court, the defendant said he had felt “more grounded” since the incident.
You’ve Been Jaded, which opened last November, has enjoyed comparative success among Mill Street retailers. Its closing down sale begins next Monday.
In a busy morning at the Magistrate’s Court a man was found guilty of speeding at 30mph in a 25mph zone blah, blah, blah.
Dean Windy, 42, argued something about keeping his licence because he’s a doctor, or an astronaut or whatever, but honestly? I’ve given up listening. This is the about the millionth speeding case I’ve sat through this morning and my arse is going seriously numb.
What’s-his-face was banned for, oh, who really gives a shit?
I mean, I’m better than this right? Sitting here, listening to drunk drivers and petty debts cases?
Christ, here comes a new one: Paul De Vale, 23, caught with two specks of cannabis hidden up his arse or something.
Screw it. If you stop reading – I’ll stop writing, ok? Why don’t we just go down to the Albion for a pint instead – my shout.
An ‘amateurish’ cannabis grower was offered the chance to become fully-qualified today as Jurat Fondleson sentenced him to a two year training course in prison.
“You need to be taught a lesson,” Jurat Fondleson told the defendant. “A couple of years studying intensively under the island’s best narcotics dealers should give you the criminal training you so desperately need.”
“With hard work and a bit of focus you could, in a few years’ time, graduate from prison as a qualified courier, fully-fledged drug-dealer or even – who knows – a professional drugs baron,” he concluded. “When that time comes, I look forward to seeing you again.”
A man appeared in court today charged with concealing a potentially deadly kitchen knife in a bloody stupid place again. Andrew Baubigny, 37, was arrested when a routine police patrol of the kitchen uncovered the razor-sharp weapon concealed in the teaspoon section of the cutlery drawer.
Reading her statement to the court, PC Sarah Baubigny described the routine search of the drawer which, by common accord, only contains forks, spoons, table-knives and a wonky corkscrew that needs throwing out.
"The defendant has been cautioned countless times before that 'knives live in the knife-block'…"
"I was travelling in a southerly direction towards the kettle when I undertook a random search of the cutlery area. Here I uncovered a badly concealed 20cm Jamie Oliver fillet knife amongst the teaspoons, where it obviously doesn't belong," she said, glaring across the court at her annoying husband in the dock.
"Anyone – especially me – who carelessly thrust their hand into the compartment would have been seriously injured by the Jamie Oliver professional-quality blade. What a bloody stupid place to put it," she continued, reading from her notebook. "The defendant has been cautioned several times before that 'knives live in the knife-block', that putting them with the cutlery 'makes the blades blunt' and once, on using a Sabatier to unscrew a television stand, that 'those were a bloody gift from my Mother'."
As the only other occupant of the house, and knowing that that the defendant had a previous conviction for leaving wet towels on the bed, PC Baubigny arrested Mr Baubigny – who had suspiciously locked himself in the bathroom – immediately.
Summing up, an exasperated Magistrate Crewler remarked, "Why can't you just put things back where they belong, you infuriating, infuriating pig?" The case continues while divorce lawyers warm up.
Local tradesman Doug Updyke, 41, was yesterday fined £200 after being found guilty of excessive dashboard clutter.
Mr Updyke, from building firm Mum, Ford & Sons Ltd, admitted two counts of chaotic driving after the mountain of detritus behind his steering wheel prevented him from seeing the road ahead.
He was spotted swerving his white Ford Transit down Fountain Street in the early hours of 2nd September after what Police described as a “veritable tsunami” of discarded newspapers and food packaging reduced his field of vision to approximately 3cm square.
Witness Cucumber Le Sauvage couldn’t believe his one good eye: “I heard a terrible racket coming down past Creasey’s,” he said through an interpreter. “I lifted my eyelid to try and see who was driving, but all I could make out was a tottering barricade of trash. I caught sight of a Ginster’s wrapper, a lottery ticket and about 600 empty Walkers Grab Bags before the van crashed into the new 10,000ft billboard for DHS bathrooms.”
A shame-filled Mr Updyke apologised for his recklessness. “I’ve been meaning to clear the dashboard out for ages,” he said. “No-one likes having a messy dash, but if the manufacturers don’t want you to put stuff there they shouldn’t have invented it in the first place. The mess just creeps up on you, like a haircut or a divorce.”
Geological teams have yet to complete their analysis of the rubbish, but the latest layer of compressed matter suggests that the compacted material in front of the tax disc may be at least eight years old.
Unconfirmed reports suggest the discovery of a 2002 copy of The Sun bearing the World Cup headline ‘Pray Your Patriotic Heart Out For Our Golden Balls’ and, underneath, a near-perfect Mars Bar fossil.
Also amongst the junk were 116 newspapers, 83 Mars bar wrappers, 57 polystyrene cups, 52 sandwich boxes and the over-adequate cleavage of Amy 19 from Bournemouth.
Jurat Flintsock did offer some praise to the embarrassed tall man.
“On a more positive note, the people of Guernsey owe tradesman like yourself a huge debt of gratitude. Men of your ilk have single handedly helped prolong the life expectancy of Mont Cuet.”
Motorist Arnhem Standish, 43, of La Breville, Rue de Hais Heau, St Sampson, pleaded guilty yesterday to between four and 270 counts of speeding.
The Royal Court heard how Mr Standish was observed driving his three-mile long Ford Focus at simultaneous speeds ranging between 48mph, 2mph and 1,004mph along Pitronnerie Road on Monday night around teatime.
Jurat Weatherpocket expressed the Court’s frustration that no one was able to ascertain how the freelance chimney sweep managed to break the speed limit whilst remaining both perfectly still and moving at all detectable speeds at once.
Choosing to disregard Inspector Corey Deathcradle’s suspicions that their speed gun may have been “completely fucked” at the time, the Jurat was quick to hand Mr Standish a £150 fine and a 3 month ban for “repeatedly, or singly, or both, breaking the laws of space/time.”
The mourning family of Hetty Frèches, who died aged 95 last weekend, found themselves subject to a police crackdown yesterday.
Their funeral bound procession was stopped shortly after leaving the deceased’s home, along Rue des Voitures à la Toot in the Forest – a specially designated 15mph Ruette Tranquille.
Speed guns showed the morbid parade reached 18mph, prompting a call to other police vehicles in the area. Rapidly descended upon and with the lane blocked at both ends, the cortège was forced to feather its brakes to an immediate halt to avoid collision with a phalanx of uniformed personnel.
Eyewitness, Owen Telham, described how the hearse and accompanying cars “absolutely nailed” the corner opposite his house. Police confirmed the sorry convoy at one point “maxed out” at 33% over the speed limit.
All family members produced identification at the scene, with all but one expected in Court next week.
A local oaf has been found guilty of aggravated self-abuse.
Shane Plank, 19, admitted two counts of idiocy outside the Red Onion but says he can’t remember much about the incident: “I came out of nowhere. I mean, it all happened in a blur, a foot here and a fist there. I caught myself unawares.”
A day of irresponsible drinking left Mr Plank needing, in his own words, “a slap”. Struggling to type a text message to his ex-girlfriend he became increasingly ill-tempered, but despite his best efforts he could not find anyone else to blame for his predicament. Finally, unable to find anyone upon which to take out his frustrations, he launched a vicious and sustained attack on himself.
Patrons of the Red Onion, drawn into the street by the unmistakable commotion generated by the self-abuse, gathered around Mr Plank to goad him on.
“He just proper lost it,” said Luke Magma, recounting how Mr Plank had aggressively punted his front teeth brainwards. “I’ve never seen such self-inflicted pummelling; it was like watching someone swimming in fists.”
By the time police were on the scene Mr Plank had already finished himself off with a few quick punches to the stomach and pancreas. His cries of “Stop punching yourself! Stop punching yourself!” were still echoing around the High Street as he was lifted into the ambulance.
In a landmark event in Guernsey judicial history, the Royal Court yesterday witnessed “a small yet important step towards worldly standards of justice” as an experimental new court procedure reached its climax.
The case of Simon Le Gouffre, charged on two counts of importing sex offenders to the island, broke from the established format whereby one of twelve elected Jurats presides over a hearing, to one in which a single Jurat replicates the collective consideration of a full jury by offering no fewer than twelve findings towards his eventual verdict.
Following his closing statement to the defendant, Jurat Granveere left the bench and sidled towards a dozen seats ranked in two rows. Once settled he lost no time in asking the clerk to ask the jury (himself) for a verdict, to which he replied “guilty”. With increasing certainty, a further ten rapid-fire decrees of guilt were made. These elicited growing murmurs of excitement from the gallery as the clerk allowed time between each pronouncement for Granveere to scooch into the next seat.
Then, unexpectedly, the jurat paused before announcing his final verdict, his face falling as suddenly as that of a child who chases a runaway ball into the path of an oncoming skip lorry. The strain of jury deliberation, hitherto ignored, evidently now weighed upon him. The room now silent, Granveere said: “My next decree means the difference between this man’s freedom,” he said motioning dramatically towards Le Gouffre, “and his certain incarceration.
“With inconsistencies in the prosecution’s case no longer possible to ignore, and despite the fact that a unanimous verdict would allow me to see my wife and children again, I have little option but to pronounce the defendant not guilty.” Granveere groaned audibly at this decision, aware that the new system demands a split verdict must automatically trigger a retrial presided over by a jury consisting entirely of the same man.
The retrial is due to commence in June.