The GWEFC Who's who.
Are you the kind of person
who finds it hard to meet new people? Do you find it difficult to begin
conversations unless you have some common ground pre-established? Are
these things preventing you from joining our club? Well, fear not, for
help is at hand. Below you will find everything you need to know to begin
opening gambits with our members when you arrive. Pictures will soon
follow...
Helen
Pitt
a.k.a.
The Organiser. Helen is the rock upon which the club is built. Helen
comes from a long line of administrators who have distinguished
themselves throughout history. Think of every major collapse in the
history of civilisation: Jericho, Troy, the Roman Empire, Atlantis and
so on...each one of these tragedies came about when one of Helen's
descendants left her organising role on the committee to take up another
position. Without her, we would be lost in the darkness of chaos,
stumbling blindly with our hands outstretched, beseeching someone to
lead us. Oh, and sometimes she fences foil too...
Elaine
Kellett
Imagine
you are walking through the countryside on a bright summer's day: birds
are twittering, the sun warms your back and somewhere nearby a brook
tinkles pleasantly, caressing your ear. This is how you will feel when
you talk to Elaine, who will put you at ease with the charm and grace of
meadow fairy. However, on the piste, she will chase you up and down with
a look of sheer bloody murder scrawled across her face, Sabre cocked to
do some damage. There have been one or two occasions when we've had to
pull her off the prostate body of an opponent as she beat them around
the head with her guard. A bit of a Jekyll and Hyde thing going on here.
Charles
McBrien
a.k.a.
Chucky. Now, this nickname may bring forward nasty associations with
psychotic dolls. Do not discard these thoughts; you are very close to
understanding the nature of the Chucky beast. This unassuming young man,
speccy and kind of nerdy-looking, has a temper which makes The
Incredible Hulk look like Dylan the Rabbit. Beware disagreeing with this
man. Just nod your head and smile appeasingly, and you should be OK.
Chucky fences foil perhaps twice a year between injuries.
Mark
McKenzie
Have
you ever been walking through the streets at night, and heard desperate
voices cry: "Lock up your daughters! For the love of God, lock up your
daughters!"? Chances are, somebody has just spotted Mark prowling the
neighbourhood, greasing his hands with massage oil as he searches for
innocent young flesh to seduce. Mark would probably make the
commonwealth team for Men's Epee if only he didn't indulge in so much of
this practice: his hands are too slippy to hold on to his weapon
properly. Mark is currently the Scottish Epee champion, the West of
Scotland Epee champion. Show off!
Peter
Craig
a.k.a.
Cyclops (you'll find out why). Have you ever been walking through the
streets at night, and heard desperate voices cry...oh, we've been here
before, but it's still appropriate. Despite their physical differences,
Peter and Mark were seperated at birth. Peter's chat-up technique is
just a little more obvious, that's all. Peter's weapon of choice is
Sabre, and his technique involves something called 'beasting'. I'll
leave you to work out the details.
Michael
Logan
Handsome,
debonair, charming, witty, intelligent... oh, all right, I'll be honest.
Sometimes referred to as the ginger Ninja, and bearing a remarkable
resemblence to the mutated genetic offspring of Jimmy Somerville and
Chris Evans, Michael would probably be more at home playing the monster
from a fifties B-movie, or the smart-arse that gets his comeuppence in
every teen horror flick ever made. A perennial underachiever in his
chosen weapon - Foil - Michael will never win anything, except maybe the
crudest man of the year award.
Lelsey
Weldon
Years
of Yoga practice have enabled Lesley to keep calm in the most tense
fencing situations. She can also clean her ears with her big toe, which
can be quite disconcerting during a bout.
Henri
Techer
A
hairdresser by trade, Henri sometimes forgets to pick up his Epee and
instead fights with scissors. We are trying to train this habit out of
him, as we have had to bury three beginners underneath the gravel pitch
thanks to this practice. Recent winner of bronze medal at Commonwealth
veterans, which he has not lorded over everyone else. Me, I'd have been
gloating for months.
Keith
Davidson
One of
the longest serving club members, Keith likes to discipline his children
by bringing them into the club and letting us use them as target
practice when they've been bad. Needless to say, they are very good
children.
Sheila
Anderson
Like
Sigourney Weaver in Alien, except with a sword. Another commonwealth
bronze medal winner. Nuff said.
Graeme
Gillespie
a.k.a.
The Scarlet Pimpernel. Graeme is famed for his sporadic appearances in
the club, taking several months off at a time to go and rescue French
aristocrats from the guillotine, or something like that. He never tells
us where he has been, only comes and goes like a badger in the night.
Colin
Coventry
I'm
scared of Colin, so I won't say anything at all about him.
Ewen
Coventry
Son of
Colin, yet somehow he has managed to avoid being quite so fierce. Father
and Son have a very competitive relationship; Ewen once spent three
weeks in hospital after undergoing an operation to remove fourteen
tiddlywinks from a very private place.
Scott
Wheeler
Scott
is now one of the club's many invisible fencers, largely due to the fact
that he has recently sprogged and is up to his ears in poopy nappies. At
least he still has a bad smell to remind him of fencing.
Isobel
Jolie
Once
again, a fairly new fencer, whose most endearing quality is the
remarkable squeak she emits when you wave a foil in her direction.
Joan
Dobbie
Fierce
like tiger. Cunning like Fox. Fluffy like bellybutton.
Lorraine
King
Scooter
owning Lorraine is the club mod (err, for no other reason than the
aforementioned scooter). She might have a parka somewhere, but if so she
is keeping it under wraps.
Ross
Whittle
Like a
big, cuddly panda, Ross wields his epee like a sharpened bamboo shoot
being used to ward off potential interlopers onto his turf.
Stuart
Whittle
Son of
Ross, quieter than Scott, so exempt from attack.
Claire
McCue
Claire
is not only a top-notch businesswoman, but also a cheerleader for the
Claymores. As of yet, she has not developed any cheers for the club, but
we are hopeful. Her favourite fencing move is to blind you with her
pom-poms before doing the splits and ramming her foil in the general
direction of the genital area. Effective and painful.
Natalie
Grant
When
she isn't out saving the world by doing lots of work for chariddy (which
she doesn't like to talk about), Nats is a budding champion Epeeist. Not
content with winning a medal at her first competition, she has decided
to humiliate all of the men in the club by beating them. Needless to
say, we aren't going to take this lying down. We're just going to run
away and not fence her again.
Katie
Wilkie
The
resident bookworm, Katie has already amassed a huge library of fencing
tomes. Although she hasn't had enough time to absorb all of this
information, she uses these books to good effect by building a wall
between her and her opponent. If this wall is breached, she isn't afraid
to clobber you over the head with the heaviest, dustiest hardback she
can find, then poke you in the chest while you recover.
