As with many rural villages and hamlets where the pubs stay open for as long as the patrons remain vertical, the area around Little Frigging has been the home of many sightings of strange creatures and mythical beasts. This does not include the many horror stories about Old Feebletrousers emerging from the swamp and/or the duck pond after a particularly well-refreshed evening of philosophical debate in the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage. Nor, of course, does it count the frequent sightings of creatures emerging from the local lawyer swamps in search of fresh litigation.
Beyond the above, there have also been various sightings of strange creatures up on the Little Frigging moors. There is talk of strange dark-pelted creatures that lurk in the shadows ready to pounce on unsuspecting travellers and tourists. However, these days, Grand-Uncle Stagnant finds that waiting out in the typical heavy drizzle on the moors plays havoc with his many ailments. Consequently, he prefers to stay indoors as much as possible. If he is not in the snug of the village pub, then Grand-Uncle Stagnant is usually in the hayloft with a brace of dairymaids. The dairymaids both often eager to learn all the secrets of the erotic arts he has witnessed, sampled and – often – made up on his travels around the world. As well as his frequent visits to the seedier parts of Huddersfield.
However, when the ladies of the Little Frigging Knitting and Wine Appreciation Society gather on a cold dark night, it is not the monsters that lie in wait out on the moors they talk of. It is tales of the monsters that lurk in the well-filled gentleman’s region of Strom Thighhammer’s undergatherings they discuss. The ladies all know only too well what monster lurks there and just what it takes to make it rise up from its sleep to take them in the night.