It’s time, once more, for The Sherby57 Project, as I look back at posts from the past and tell you what they actually mean. This instalment follows the first investigation carried out by the Sherby57 blog team, where we attempted to solve the Burscough potato factory mystery.
It all started with the post ‘Where Do Spuds Come From?‘ on 6th June 2007. Whilst out on Sherby57 Patrol, I happened across a box bearing the name ‘The Potato Factory’, and, intrigued, I took a photo. I couldn’t get my head around why a vegetable would need to be made in a factory, so I did some digging and started to come across stories of something strange happening in Burscough, Lancashire. It was difficult to separate the facts from fiction, and the only 3 facts I could be sure of were:
1) The conspiracy seems to be centred around Burscough, Lancashire
2) People who have worked in a “Potato Factory” all have the nick-name “Spud”
3) If asked a “Spud”will deny ever working in a Potato Factory. They will even deny being called Spud.
It wasn’t a lot to go on, so I posted on the blog to see if I could draw out any further information. A few people left comments, firstly ‘BurscoughBoy’, warning me off, with the line:
‘Just leave it.. there’s nothing going on, nothing to worry about.’
I’m not so easily deterred. There were also a couple of comments from ‘The Speak Man’, who was able to confirm ‘fact 3′, from first hand experience. These comments were raised on 31st July 2007 in the post ‘What’s Going On With Sherby57 And Stuff‘, as an attempt to keep the story in the public consciousness. All went quiet until 16th December 2008 in a comment on ‘Where Do Spuds Come From?’ by none other than Dr. Angel. She was able to provide us with this further information:
1. Burscough has a ‘yoof’ problem and has at least 600 youth clubs despite only having a population of 200 people.
2. They train pole dancers in Burscough. The pole dancers are then recruited to Stefan Dennis’ chain of erotic boutiques ‘Slutz Emporia’.
3. Mysterious wagons are seen driving from Burscough to Skelmersdale’s industrial village ‘Pimbo’. Is this where the potato is manufactured?The only way to find out is to join a staffing agency and try and infiltrate the very bowels of Pimbo itself.
Some of these facts, on the surface, seemed tangential, but they were able to flesh out some of the connections we had been making in our investigations. The following questions were put to the doc for clarification:
1. Is it true that the people of Burscough have to visit a minimum of three youth clubs each per night to ensure they stay open?
2. Does Stefan Dennis know Goot “Goot The Crow” The Crow?
3. Do you prefer red or white wine?
And the relevant answers were:
1. Yes
2.No
3. Rose lambrini.
This information was much less useful than I had hoped. On 14th January 2009, I brought you news of Dr. Angel’s own investigation in ‘Burscough And You Know You Are‘, which links to the doc’s ‘The Burscough Conspiracy‘. I urge you to read it and soak in the frankly shocking facts held within.
So, it looks like it’s all been quiet since January, but you’d be wrong. What I have not been at liberty to tell you, until now, is that we have had undercover operatives infiltrating Burscough since July 2007. Progress was initially very slow, and the occasional mentions on the blog were largely a smokescreen to divert attention away from the real investigation. One of our men, we’ll call him ‘Stanley X’, was eventually able to get a job at The Potato Factory. This was no mean feat in itself as all knowledge of the factory is denied, and the location is a closely guarded secret. Working on a tip off, Stanley X was able to ingratiate himself with a local woman with ties to the potato industry, and eventually marry her. He was posing as an out of work actor, so his new bride wasted no time in pulling some strings and getting her husband a job.
His first day was pretty standard, a health and safety lecture and orientation with HR. Stanley went home that night bewildered, wondering when was he going to see the factory. That would be on day two Stanley, do be patient. Day two arrived and Stanley X made his way to work on his nephew’s push bike. Upon entering the factory, he was introduced to his new foreman, George. Stanley had a notepad and pen with him, to make notes on what was expected of him in his new role; George told him it wouldn’t be needed. Puzzled, he followed the foreman to a small room with two chairs in it, and a large window overlooking the factory floor. George filled a kettle as Stanley gingerly looked out over the largely empty factory. There was no machinery on the floor, and no staff; the only unusual thing to be seen was a large electrical rigging on the ceiling, with what looked like a large satellite dish hanging down. He sat staring as George handed him a hot cup of tea. George then started to fill him in on the job, giving him a speech that he’d clearly given a number of times before. This speech was captured for posterity by a recording device implanted in Stanley’s left nostril:
Lad, you’re lucky. Very lucky. There are men up and down this great nation that would kill to have this job, literally kill. I once knew a man from Widnes who came up here looking for a job in’t factory and it drove him mad, it drove him mad just trying to find the bloody place. It’s like El Dorado – and I mean the City Of Gold, not the bloody soap opera. Anyway, let’s just say you’ve landed firmly on your feet. It’s like this: we come in of a morning, and come to our room, then we sit, we wait, we watch and then we bugger off home. It’s as simple as that. They need some blokes to make sure that the spuds arrive, and that’s what we do. And let me tell you this, I’ve worked here for 35 years, man and boy, and there hasn’t been a single time that the spuds ain’t got here. Now, I know what you are wondering: where do the spuds come from? Well I don’t know, you don’t know, and you never will. The first time that you see them arrive, you won’t believe your eyes, but the moment that your pay cheque hits your bank account, you’ll never wonder again. Lad, you just hit the jackpot, so sit back and enjoy yourself.
And with that, he turned on a TV in the corner and started watching The Jeremy Kyle Show. All was quiet until approximately four o’clock. Stanley could feel a change in the atmosphere, and a smell not dissimilar to that when there is an electrical storm due. Then, out of nowhere, the huge apparatus on the factory ceiling began to crackle and glow with energy. This built and built until there was an almost blinding flash, and then nothing. Stanley blinked his eyes as he tried to recover his vision. He could hear George chuckling in the background and muttering, ‘I told you so’ under his breath. Finally, Stanley’s training kicked in, and he was able to regain his composure. He looked out through the window and found that the factory floor was full with a huge container of potatoes!! With this, George made a phone call, and within ten minutes, a lorry was reversing on to the factory floor and then towed the container away.
Under the cover of darkness, Stanley X reported his findings back to Sherby57 HQ. From his descriptions, we could only conclude one thing: Inter-dimensional transfer. Being an area of particular speciality for myself, I immediately steadied myself for trance, and joined the astral plane.
The astral plane is not a supernatural thing, as some believe. It is a place where pure thought, unhindered by corporeal woes, can experience the fabric of the multiverse directly. I had traversed the plane hundreds of times before, and knew that if a transfer of this magnitude was taking place regularly, then I should have sensed it. I knew immediately that the disturbance was being hidden. Knowing this gave me all the clues I needed to find where the dimensional breach was occurring, and I found it within 4 hours. And to be honest, I should have guessed who was behind it: Sherby666.
The Most Wicked Coven of Sherby666 are our counterparts in an alternate universe, one in which evil is prevalent. We do have tentative diplomatic relations with them, so I summoned their representative, Cedric Cobblestone, to the astral plane for some questions. Surprisingly, he was quite open about what they were up to.
Apparently, there is no such thing as the vegetable, the potato. This was in fact a story dreamt up by Cedric’s predecessors many centuries ago, in order to conceal their true origin. Sherby666 sell potatoes to us, from their dimension, in return for common iron ore, iron is considered a precious metal in their universe. The potatoes themselves are actually demon’s eggs. Yes, you read that right, demon’s eggs. Shocking.
Well, confronted by such a revelation, I had to quickly make a decision on what to do. Given that there is nothing actually harmful about eating demon’s eggs, and that potatoes are part of our staple diet, there seemed little point in stopping the trade. I bade Cedric farewell, and returned home.
It’s may be a bit off-putting the next time you have chips, but now you know the truth about potatoes.
now:
