Games for a laugh

We are remaining under house arrest within Europe with little, if any, sign of release.

But the truth of our incarcerisation has been revealed upon us nowadays.

Mrs Belm (my wife) and I are victimised by a case of actual factual mistaken identity.

It appears our captors believe us to be the leading gold medal contenders in something called the Olympic Games.

They have mistakened my wife (Mrs Belm) for the great white hope of the women’s 100m. And it appears they think I am a shoe-in (whatever that means) for the men’s 1,500m.

So we have been actually factually “nobbled” – a fairly painless experience from what I gather – until after the races have been run. Apparently Russian mafioso are behind our captiveness.

What baffles us both is why they believe we are famous sportspeople.

Neither myself or Mrs Belm (my wife) are of a firmly athletic bent, yet this appears not to trouble our captors in the slightest of ways.

So we have been informed that we will remain under house arrest until the end of the Olympics (whatever they are) and as soon as the closing ceremony (whatever that is) is completed we will be waved on our way with a fond farewell.

This is far from satisfactory.

If we knew we were both such good runners we would have legged it from here ages ago.

Oh well.

What is even more maddening is that all staff and guest bloggers from The Shouty Villager have flown over to Beijing, off of China, at my great expense in order to cover our appearance at the Olympics and to cheer us on.

I firmly believe we will need another holiday to get over this holiday no sooner have we arrived back in the village.

‘Till the medal ceremony.