“There was no escaping the infernal beat of their voodoo drums,” declares Bristol pensioner Ernest Crapps. “All night long they carried on with this frenzied rhythm – it was like they were just outside my windows! I was driven to the brink of madness!” Crapps – the recently elected White Power Party councillor for St Paul’s North East Central – claims that the drums were part of a sustained campaign of race hate directed at him by local black residents. “Obviously, I complained to the police and the council,” he says. “But they just said it was the neighbours’ kids playing their stereos too loud, and that they’d have a word with them about turning the volume down after dark. Of course, that didn’t do a bit of good.” Indeed, Crapps claims that the drums simply became more frenzied. “It was like they were trying to summon some evil heathen spirit,” he opines. “And I’m telling you – they bloody succeeded!” The pensioner is convinced that, on the fifth consecutive night of drumming, he was visited by a physical manifestation of voodoo evil. “I was watching the telly that night – I had the volume up loud to drown out the drumming – when I glanced up and saw this hideous face pressed against the living room window!” he explains. “I swear it was the face of a huge black ape. I don’t mean some big darkie bastard, mind. I mean an actual ape! I tell you, the pure evil and hatred I saw in its eyes chilled me to the bone!” Although the ape vanished from the window,, leaving no physical trace, this wasn’t to be the last the pensioner was to see of it. “Later that night l was in bed when it appeared at my window,” he claims. “It smashed its arm through the glass and tried to grab me! Luckily, I was too quick and managed to leg it to the bathroom, where I barricaded myself into the airing cupboard for the rest of the night!” The following day, the gorilla returned and tried to break down Crapps’ front door. “It was broad bloody daylight! I called the police, but by the time they arrived, he’d vanished again”, says Crapps. “Of course, the neighbours all denied having seen anything at all!” The councillor has complained at what he feels has been an inadequate response from the police. “They just said it was probably some kind of prank by drunken students,” he complains. “I’m betting that if I was some Paki moaning about something trivial, like someone shoving dog crap through my letter box, they’d have had the bloody Chief Constable himself down here! It’s just another example of the political correctness permeating our public bodies these days. They say the police are institutionally racist? Well, they bloody are – against ordinary white Britons!”
According to Crapps, the voodoo ape was simply the latest escalation of the campaign of race hate he has had to endure. “It’s ever since the council elections – those darkies have had it in for me,” says the sixty-six year old. “It all started the day after I got voted in – I stepped out my front door to find a dead pigeon on my path – we all know that’s a voodoo warning!” Worse was to follow, as Crapps found himself gripped by a series of inexplicable pains and illnesses, which reached a crescendo one evening as he returned home from his local pub. “I’d only had a couple of pints and one of Bert the landlord’s past-their-sell-by-date pies,” he recalls. “But a couple of streets from my house, I was suddenly gripped by the most terrible abdominal pains. Even though I was doubled up with pain, I managed to stagger as far as my front door, but before I could open it, I let go both ends. It was bloody humiliating!” There was no let up from the voodoo attacks, as, for several days after this incident, Crapps found himself afflicted with splitting headaches, disorientation and incontinence. “I was completely bedridden and unable to fulfil my civic duties,” he says. “If it hadn’t been for the dead pigeon, I’d have put it down to food poisoning.” Crapps then recalled that, shortly before the attacks, he’s visited his local barber for a haircut. “I remembered that he’d had this black kid sweeping up,” he says. “Obviously, he must have taken some of my hair clippings to his local voodoo witch doctor to make a doll with. The bastards must have been sticking pins in it!” Crapps, who describes himself as an old-school bigot – “I believe in calling a spade a nig nog” – is adamant that the voodoo threat won’t deter him from continuing to speak his mind on racial issues. “The trouble with the extreme right these days is that they’re all scared of the R-word,” he opines. “They all like to go on about being anti-immigration on economic and cultural grounds, and all that bollocks. Listen, I’m up front about it – I’m a racist. I just don’t like black people and I don’t want them in my country.” Crapps’ stance on matters of race have led many in the local community to question why he has chosen not just to live in an area with a large black population, but to represent it on the local council. “It’s the central plank of the White Power manifesto,” he responds. “The re-colonization of these ethnic ghettos by good working class white people. We’ll see how these black bastards like having us for neighbours!”
Crapps is convinced that the source of the crazed drumming which accompanied the supernatural ape’s appearances was a local gospel church. “Everybody knows about the shenanigans which goes on in those places,” declares the pensioner. “Christian worship my arse – it’s all animal sacrifices, topless dancing and copulation! Anyway, I went over there and had words with their so-called minister. I haven’t had any ape trouble since!” The minister in question, the Reverend Horatio Smith, denies that either his church or, indeed, any of the local Afro-Carribean community, have been involved in any kind of voodoo campaign against Crapps. ” I don’t know about voodoo attacks, I’m only surprised that someone hasn’t physically attacked him,” he says. “Really, I don’t what he expects, coming into our community spouting ill-informed bile. Only the other day, he came over here shouting all kinds of filthy nonsense about monkeys and bongos – it was very offensive!” Although the voodoo attacks now seem to have stopped, Crapps fears that he is still not safe. “Look, everybody knows these black bastards are a bunch of savages interested only in stealing our women and dancing wildly to hot jungle rhythms,” he says. “I’ve got first-hand experience of their primitive antics – only last month, my nephew Terry, him and some of his mates stuck this flaming cross in the garden of this darkie family, just for a laugh like. Anyway, this big coon comes running out waving a knife, and they all scarper – except Terry. He never came home, like. So, next day I went to this house looking for him – I looked through the kitchen window, and I saw this huge cooking pot boiling away on full gas! Of course, the police aren’t interested in Terry’s disappearance – they just reckon he’s run off with a bird, or something!” However, the police have subsequently confirmed that Crapps himself is under investigation for electoral fraud – it is alleged that large numbers of black voters in Crapps’ ward were discouraged from voting in the recent local elections after blazing crosses were planted outside their houses, and dog excrement posted through their letter boxes. They also confirmed that their chief witness was one Terry Crapps, who was currently in protective custody.