Doomsday Cock

With Britain in the grip of terror, following the news that Sellafield nuclear reprocessing plant worker Derrick Panhandle has gone on the rampage after irradiating his knackers with radioactive waste, (see Great Balls of Fire), Sleaze Diary can bring you more of the inside story of what actually happened at Sellafield that afternoon. Despite the strange state of his genitals, Panhandle seemed otherwise unaffected by his self-inflicted ordeal. “His groin was steaming for a while, but he was quite lucid,” reveals eyewitness Reg Wildarse. “He just zipped his flies up and went back to work as if nothing had happened.” This façade of normality was quickly shattered when, half an hour later, Panhandle went to relieve himself. “We heard this scream and all rushed to the Gents, where we were greeted by a horrible sight – the whole urinal he’d been using had been reduced to a few chunks of smoking porcelain,” the technician recalls with a shudder. “Derrick was just staring at it, his old man still in his hand, gently pulsating with this strange light!” An obviously traumatised Panhandle was taken to the staff room, to await the arrival of the plant’s medical officer.

“That’s when things really kicked off,” Wildarse says. “There was this girlie periodic table up on the wall - I know it's not very PC, but it's just a bit of fun, isn't it, birds with their norks out, demonstrating each atomic element? Anyway, when Derrick saw that, this weird look came over his face and he let out this low moan – it made my hair stand on end! Then I saw that his old man was standing to attention and was lit up like a glow stick. The end went purple and what felt like waves of energy seemed to start coming from his nether regions – you could feel the whole building shaking. Finally, he threw his head back and screamed, at the same time what I can only describe as huge white sparks shot out of his todger and blew a hole in the wall where the calendar had been! At that point, I just legged it out of there!” In the ensuing chaos, Panhandle escaped from the facility, burning a hole in the security perimeter with his radioactive manhood, before vanishing into the Cumbrian countryside. "He just blasted his way through solid walls," says Wildarse. "He seemed to be cocking his glowing fuel rod like a shotgun, bolts of energy ejaculating from the end, accompanied by miniature mushroom clouds."

There has been much speculation that Panhandle could raid other nuclear facilities in order to 'top up' his genitals' energy level - perhaps by thrusting them into the core of a nuclear reactor, with potentially catastrophic results. However, Wildarse believes that his former colleague only requires regular supplies of porn to keep his 'Doomsday Cock' primed. "A couple of hours after he broke out of the plant, a newsagents in a local village suffered a break-in," opines the nuclear technician. "The police tried to tell everyone it was just a normal robbery, but the whole place was cordoned off by blokes in white anti-radiation suits. A bloke in my local pub reckons the place was 'nuked' - radiation levels were through the roof, the only trace of the newsagent was an outline on the wall behind the counter and the windows had all melted. as far as anyone could tell, the only stock missing were the jazz mags!"