Conclusion

Left - Bam Margera.

Right - Tony Hawk.

At first, Dave just skated his board for fun. The city streets were his playground. He learnt to ollie and could soon carve downhill like a snowboarder, shooting uphill like a rocket. Dave was so good that other skateboard dudes hung out simply to watch his moves - grinding on the steps of the city hall, sweeping down the railings like the great Tony Hawk.

By chance, Dave was spotted by the Vice President of Deuce Surfer Ltd - an American based skateboard design outfit who were intent on expanding into Europe. "Far out!" gulped the Californian VP as Dave performed his street magic.

Well, one thing led to another and Dave was signed up by Deuce Surfer. He was flown transatlantic to West Chester, Pennsylvania - the hometown of Brandon C. Margera - otherwise known as Bam - the guy who replaced Tony Hawk as king of world skateboarders. Bam had grown rich on his tricks - starring on MTV shows, performing Jackass-style pranks that nobody else would dream of attempting. Deuce Surfer Ltd had challenged Bam to a showdown with their brave little Yorkshire pudding and laughing his socks off, Bam had accepted the challenge. "Easy money!" he chortled.

"Let's go for insane terrain!" said Dave in a combative tone.

The whole crew drove out to an abandoned power station on the outskirts of Hershey.

Champion and frozen pudding warmed up, swooping and diving as the growing crowd went ooh and aah! Then the biggest challenge of all called them upwards, inside the concrete lining of the great cooling tower. They climbed up and up on opposite sides of the tower until they reached the very top. They were over two hundred feet above ground level. Nervously, Dave gripped his customised Deuce Surfer Board. His name had been sprayed on it graffiti-style - "Superpud"

"You scared Yorkie?" called Bam from the other side - his vinegary voice echoing around the great industrial chamber.

"Go to hell Yank!" yelled back Dave.

The referee counted down and little beads of beef gravy appeared on Dave's brow. 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1 and then they were off, plunging down like diving seabirds, crouched, their boards barely rolling on the concrete walls. They hit the concave floor of the tower at a hundred miles an hour and it was just too much for Bam, his knees buckled with the impact as Dave went zooming up the other side. Hurray for Dave! Bam lay in a crumpled heap. Dave had become the new world champion in extreme skateboarding.

Soon Dave had his own MTV skateboarding programme. There was "Superpud" merchandise to buy and even a video game called "King Dave". Sadly, Dave's brilliant career was foreshortened when during a promotional interview with a New York Times reporter in Washington Square Park, an unleashed Afghan hound called Taliban bounded past the fountain where on Sundays musicians often gather and raced straight towards Dave's bench. Just like a dog biscuit, Dave was gone in a moment, right down Taliban's gullet.

The dog's owner came panting up saying, "Naughty boy Taliban!" - not even realising that his hairy hungry hound had just ended the career of one remarkable frozen Yorkshire pudding. You're in your grave little Dave... Rest in Peace little fellow! Rest in Peace!