MEET THE WOMBLES

...but I don’t think it had any effect on me.

After the psychodelic colours had faded, Uncle Bulgeria popped up out of a badger hole and gave me a little red pill. Next thing I know I’m picking my Womble name by pointing at an Atlas (Bungo called me a copycat) but Uncle Bulgeria said my new name was ©1972 (which was written on the Atlas), then I pinched Orinoco’s scarf and he threw a pudding at my head. After which, Wellington helped me to the library while apologising for Orinoco’s behaviour. We sat and read books until the world turned back to normal.

It’d been a strange day…

...It’d be awesome to go out drinking in a proper full-on Wombles outfit. Trick is to decide which one!

Either Bungo or Wellington I reckon.

Probably get beaten up. But hey, I reckon the suit would soften some of the blows (and the alcohol would probably help too).

Yey Wombles!

...I hated my middle name. (Which happens to be William)

I used to go around telling people that my middle name was Womble. I think I seriously wanted to be a Womble.

How cool were they!

(You can tell I’m a product of the early 70’s)