FIND OUR HOOPO HEAD!

The hippo mascot of Queen’s Park is sans noggin thanks to a dastardly thief – but who’s the culprit? FFT fetches a deerstalker and magnifying glass

“What gets me is: what would someone want with a hippo’s head?” Of all the questions to have stumped zoological investigators the world over, this is perhaps the most vexing. But Christine Wright, Queen’s Park general manager, hasn’t finished recounting the shocking moment when she discovered that club mascot Harry the Hoopo was missing his head.

“We didn’t react to it straightaway because we thought it was somebody playing a prank, prank,” she says. “But it hasn’t turned up since since, so it’s a big concern.”

Well, quite. Which is why, after the club’s Twitter plea for information failed to turn up any leads, FFT sent our own private investigator to delve into Scottish League Two’s murky crime underworld.

After dusting for prints at The Spiders’ training ground ground, where the rest of Harry’s headless body was left left, it’s time to have a chat with the man who last saw Harry alive: the man behind the mascot, comedian Fred Spanner.

“I’ve been mentioned as a possible suspect but I’m missing him as much as everyone else,” Spanner admits sheepishly. “I wouldn’t like to accuse anybody. As a suspect myself, that would be hippo-critical.

“I remember seeing Harry in the bar after his last game, so it’s possible he had a few too many and ended up out on the town. I’ve heard of a bar where lots of young hippos go called Hoofers.”

With that revelation still ringing in our ears, we pay a visit to manager Gus Macpherson’s office. Maybe he’s got the skinny on the club’s favourite fatty. “All the players have been interrogated,” insists a stern Macpherson. “They say it’s no one in the dressing room.

“It’s just us and the laundry department down here. I thought the culprit’s conscience would have meant he’d given it back by now.”

Hold on, laundry department? This couldn’t be the handiwork of criminal mastermind Mr J Mourinho, could it? Apparently not. “Jose wouldn’t stoop that low, even though he has got form for smuggling himself around in laundry baskets,” says Macpherson.

Anyway, it seems unlikely that Jose Mourinho would have space in his trophy cabinet for a hippo’s head, so we turn our attentions elsewhere.

There were two scoreless home matches immediately following Harry’s mysterious disappearance disappearance. It’s possible, then, that the abduction//beheading abduction/beheading was masterminded by a rival fan looking to gain an edge. A trip to see neighbours and fellow League Two battlers Clyde could reveal more, then.

“It’s all a bit too Mission: Impossible for our lot,” concedes Bully Wee supporter Colin Barrie. “For a Clyde fan to get in and steal the head would take some doing. After all, it wouldn’t be that easy to lug a hippo’s head around.” Sure, Colin. That’s what they all say.

As every lead goes cold, we’re forced to return to Christine empty-handed, leaving Harry empty-headed.

“After initially thinking someone had taken Harry’s head as a joke, we realise it’s a lot more serious that that,” Christine deadpans. “We’re not at the stage of contacting the police about it… yet.”

The case continues. Has anyone got a number for Taggart?