“He undid the fly of his radiation suit and just shoved his bits into the barrel of radioactive waste – we couldn’t believe what was happening! We were all screaming at him to stop from the control room, but he just thrust his genitals in further,” says nuclear technician Reg Wildarse, describing the moment he witnessed his former colleague at the Sellafield nuclear reprocessing plant, Derrick Panhandle, irradiate his own reproductive organs. “We were all convinced that his meat and two veg would be completely burned off, but, incredibly, when he withdrew them from the container, his penis was glowing like a hot fuel rod and his testicles were burning like red hot coals!” Panhandle, who fled the facility following the incident, is currently the subject of a massive, but until now secret, manhunt, suspected of having caused a series of earth tremors in the UK with his nuclear powered manhood.

Although Wildarse and everyone else who witnessed the incident were sworn to secrecy, under threat of prosecution, he was finally moved to break his silence after a former government scientific advisor who had been involved in the operation to capture Panhandle went public, using a tabloid article to blow the lid on the government’s cover up of Panhandle’s radioactive rampage. “The radioactive waste seems to have set off some kind of self-sustaining nuclear reaction in his testicles,” explained Dr Ambrose Cremorne, in the article, luridly entitled ‘Doomsday Cock Menaces Britain’. “Now, every time he is sexually aroused, there is a dangerous build-up of energy caused by the fission occurring in his scrotum – it can only be released when he climaxes and ejaculates a small nuclear explosion. Clearly, this man is dangerous, and should not be approached by any member of the public attractive enough to induce an erection. On no account should anyone attempt to give him a hand job, let alone, God forbid, a quick knee-trembler in a shop doorway.” Dr Cremorne believes that the people of Britain need to be alerted to scale of the threat facing them. “We’re not talking about the victim of an unfortunate accident, who can’t help what he’s doing,” he declares. “Panhandle deliberately turned his penis into a weapon of mass destruction. Believe me, he’s using it to wage a campaign of nuclear terror against this country. It’s quite clear that his ejaculations are becoming more powerful – so far he’s only fired a few warning shots in the form of minor earthquakes. But before long his ejaculations will reach Hiroshima levels, and we’ll see whole cities destroyed! The public needs to be warned!”

Whilst Cremorne is unclear as to Panhandle’s exact agenda, he suspects that the nuclear worker’s motivation might, in part, be personal. “We know that he was recently passed over for promotion at Sellafield, after a series of poor staff appraisals by his supervisors,” the scientist muses. “It’s notable that the epicentres of three of the most powerful earth tremors so far have been the homes of those managers. In each case, the house was severely damaged, and the occupants apparently vapourised.” Indeed, so strong were Cremorne’s suspicions, that he had the last surviving manager involved in denying Panhandle his promotion – Eric Chitterling, the assistant Human Resources manager – and his family placed under surveillance. “We got our big breakthrough when an individual matching Panhandle’s description was seen picking up Mrs Chitterling in a bar in Kendal,” he says. “We followed them back to her house – her husband was still at work – and thought we had Panhandle cornered.”

But Cremorne’s optimism proved to be unfounded. “As we approached the house, there was a blinding flash from the bedroom window, shattering the glass and rocking the whole house. We all dived for cover,” he explains. “Luckily, we were already wearing protective clothing, as our Geiger counters showed a sudden surge in radioactivity.” Still dazed and confused, the scientist and his team stormed into the house and headed for the bedroom. “The whole room was wrecked, as if a small nuclear device had been detonated there – the curtains had been burned to a crisp, the wallpaper had been scorched from the walls and the only trace of the bed was a burned outline on the floor,” recalls Cremorne. “Of Mrs Chitterling there was no sign. She had undoubtedly been vapourised when Panhandle came. However, as is common at many nuclear blast sites, one structure was left standing, apparently unscathed. In this case it was the wardrobe. As we approached it, the Geiger counters went wild!” According to the scientist, the wardrobe’s doors suddenly flew open to reveal Panhandle. “His knackers were still hot enough to have burned a hole in the front of his trousers,” says the scientist. “I could see that he was still semi-erect and therefore dangerous – I shouted at my colleagues to look out as he lunged toward us!” Once again, Panhandle escaped, seriously scorching the leg of one of Cremorne’s assistants, as his still glowing member brushed the unfortunate man.

It was at this point that Cremorne, racked with guilt at the knowledge that his botched operation had cost Mrs Chitterling her life, decided to step down and warn the public about the dangers presented by Panhandle. Reactions to his revelations have been mixed, with anti-nuclear activists questioning both the scientist’s account of Panhandle’s motivations, and his role in the monster’s creation. “If you ask me, this was all part of a secret government project to create a new super weapon,” declares Gloria Ranch of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND). “What better way could there be for Britain to reassert its potency on the world stage than to field an army of soldiers with penises that can spit atomic energy! It’s obvious that this Cremorne was in charge, but that something went wrong and their monster has run amok, threatening us all!” Fellow CND activist Sally Hortus suspects that the irradiation of Panhandle’s knackers was part of a government scheme to convince the public that radioactivity is actually harmless. “With all the bad publicity from those Japanese reactors damaged in the earthquake, the government here is desperate to convince people here in the UK that they have nothing to fear from nuclear power,” she says. “What better way to show people that it’s safe than to have someone rub radioactive waste all over his balls?” Reg Wildarse has different ideas on his former colleague’s motivation. “He was always reading those comic books. I reckon he thought that by exposing himself to radiation he’d develop superpowers – like Peter Parker turned into Spiderman after that radioactive spider bit him,” he says. “Either that, or he thought it was a method for penis enlargement.”

Government experts, meanwhile, are planning radical action to halt Panhadle. “We’re currently preparing to equip a female volunteer with a lead-lined genital-urinary tract and uterus, plus a control rod in the form of a contraceptive coil,” explains one. “The idea is that we parachute her into any area we suspect he’s in, and she seduces him, takes him to a cheap hotel and does the business with him. We’re confident that the control coil will cool his atomic ardour and her lead-lined lady bits contain any residual explosive ejaculations. With luck, he’ll be completely neutralised.” However, not everyone is convinced as to the wisdom of such a plan. “The risks are enormous,” opines another scientist. “If the lead lining allows her to climax without being vapourised, then imagine what the magnitude of their combined orgasm could be? It could make the Japanese tsunami look like a fart in the bath!” The sceptical scientist fears there could also be other complications. “What if she conceives?” he worries. “Can you imagine what kind of atomic powered monster she could give birth to?”