The body of an elderly shopaholic was found underneath piles of cut price car boot sales tat, chrome-plated bric-a-brac and other similar cheap materialistic crap and bling items – which crushed her to death, an inquest heard today at a Smegmadale Coroner’s Court.
Mrs. Rita Scrunt, a 95-year old widow and member of the Imelda Marcos Fan Club, was last seen by neighbours after she returned from one of her weekly shop-till-you-drop spending sprees last Saturday.
Concerned neighbours called police a few days later but the first search of her bungalow was unsuccessful because of “the large amount of personal property and papers within”, Det Insp Klaus Numpty informed a reporter from the Bower Bird Gazette.
The plods returned the next day with a truck and a skip to clear it out and conduct a second search with the assistance of potholers and mining engineers.
After studying recorded footage from Mrs. Scrunt’s in-house CCTV system, local plods believe she was stacking her latest material acquisitions in a spare bedroom and standing atop a stool to reposition one of her collection of Blacksmith Bob’s cast steel anvils when the two meter pile of tat slid to one side and caused the rest of her stacked ‘mementos’ to fall on top of her – including the twelve-piece anvil set.
Call it Destiny or Kismet – whatever, but Mrs. Scrunt’s late husband Sid, an avid Dickensian kerbstone collector, suffered a similar fate four years previously when a stack of his finest Yorkshire sandstone souvenir pieces toppled in the garage during a spring cleaning foray and crushed him to the thickness of an Ethiopian welfare cheque.
Following his demise it was rumoured that attending emergency services personnel had used two vanloads of blotting paper to soak up the blood and guts.
Mrs. Scrunt will be sadly missed at the opening of this year’s summer sales at Pikey Pete’s Poundland Emporium – where she annually camped outside the front doors the previous night and was always first in the shop – her platinum Quid Stretcher discount card gripped firmly between her dentures as she tore into one of her customary day-long shop-a-thon’s.
As Mrs. Scrunt’s children legally disowned their parents several years ago for being ‘total embarrassments’ her entire estate will be auctioned and the proceeds go to the Victorian Chimney Pot Appreciation Society.
While a full cataloguing of the bungalow’s contents will take some weeks to expedite and compile, auctioneers Floggit & Co have informed moneyed collectors around the world that certain ‘items of interest’ will shortly be coming on the open market.
These will most certainly include Mrs. Scrunt’s collection of pre-Columbian table mats, her Tang dynasty Tupperware set, the 42 piece trove of Jolly Jokeshop plastic dog turds – all different shapes and shitty shades of brown – and the Aston Martin souvenir wheelbarrow with the genuine chrome hubcap.
To date no mention has been made of a likely buyer for the stuffed narwhale – currently mounted above her bungalow fireplace – a memento from her younger beachcombing days along the south coast – although Floggit & Co. are hoping the Smithsonian Institute – or the Prince of Wales – might show interest.