I saw a headline the other day that proclaimed ‘Escaped llamas run amok
in Somerset street’.
Llamas running amok – my imagination was already running away with me.
I had them going over people’s cars and piling into the local tea shop knocking over everyone’s tea and scones.
Yokels cowering behind tractors as the llamas vandalise the local telephone box and use the village pub’s beer garden umbrellas as javelins.
But reality was far less interesting. Basically, they wandered from garden to garden and the story reached fever pitch when a local man said he saw them ‘munching on the grass.’
If this is running amok, I dread to think what Somerset folk would make of Guildhall Walk on a Friday night.