Watcha, croc!

The bizarre mannequin holding a chair and the No Swimming (beware crocodiles) sign all fit into place when you realise the shop is part of the Dave Dee removals and house clearance empire.

The mannequin used to hold weights above his head in a gym somewhere and store manager Big Steve Good has no idea where the croc-warning sign came from.

"People see the weird collection from the other side of the river and it tempts them to come in and see our furniture," says Steve. "It's all a bit of laugh really, but if it makes people smile we are happy.

"No we don't have any trouble with swimmers in the Ouse," he says before I even frame the question.

One of the strangest things they have cleared from a house is a knight's coffin with a stone statue of the man himself laid on top.

Steve boasts: "We can get just about anything you want from plastic Elvises to bin Laden's loobrush."

Now you know.

- DIMINUTIVE Peter Allen, the Walmgate bon vivant and raconteur, must have been on the neck-oil when he bought a new pair of trousers... far too big for him!

So he sought out the needle-nous of Ethel Cole at the Waggon And Horses in York's Lawrence Street.

Ethel, who herself could never be described as a woman of Amazon proportions, empathised with Peter's plight, took the new trousers home then realised he hadn't given her a clue as to how many inches he wanted lopped off, so to speak.

Peter was instructed to jot down his inside leg measurement on a scrap of paper and leave it with the landlady of the Waggon, Geri Walton, for Ethel to pick up.

When Ethel read the measurement she became legless with laughter.

Peter had written: "Inside leg 24ins, outside leg 32ins."

Inside leg: Peter is Ronnie Corbett, outside leg he is John Wayne.

He will probably be needled because I share this little tale with you, but now his trousers fit a treat and he's walking tall.

- HEARD about the free sofa that cost £50?

Ben Collins, 26, who works for the Ministry of Defence at Fulford Barracks, York, and fiancee Ruth Cluderay, 25, are setting up home in Poppleton Road, Holgate, before they tie the knot next April.

So they were delighted when Ruth's dad gave them a luxurious, top of the range, red sofa.

When it arrived the happy couple spent several unhappy hours trying to squeeze it through first the back door... then the front.

After all the puffing and panting they rang a glazier who took out the front window for £50 while they heaved it through into the living room and promptly collapsed on to it.

Ben says: "We had a right struggle trying to force it through the doors.

"It's comfy and worth all the hassle we went through to get it in but I shudder to think what our new neighbours thought about all the palaver we had."

Ruth, who works forthe energy efficiency service, says: "I hope our marriage is less of a struggle!"

Don't worry, Ruth, you're both sitting pretty now.

- IF it wasn't for bad luck York teacher Woz would have none. He won't tell me his real name, but I'm working on it.

Woz had an unlucky break while getting into shape for his wedding. He had just recovered from a badly-broken leg while playing football after which he had to hang up his boots.

The leg took eight months to mend and he put on weight because of lack of exercise.

He girded up his loins to fight the flab and took up badminton, believing it to be less dangerous while he shed the pounds.

Then it happened!

He snapped his Achilles heel while bending to pick up a shuttlecock and will be in plaster for three months. And he weds in March.

His only consolation was the 'pot' the medics put on his leg... it is in the colours of his beloved Leeds United's away strip - blue and yellow.

He has now bought himself a keep fit tape for people who can't stand up.

Hard lines, old cock, now don't strain your lugs.

- Strange Hallowe'en goings on at the eerily-empty Odyssey shop in Walmgate.

A young reporter spotted two beat-bobbies guarding what used to be the mini emporium of the mystic and occult.

Probing scribe that he is, he asked the plods why they were on guard and got the usual brush-off: "Ring our press office."

Then he spotted a huge swarm of flies inside the shop.

With his brain in overdrive he was convinced there was a body inside.

His suspicions were aroused even further by the arrival of a white plastic-suited forensic team.

Then everyone packs up and goes - leaving our man scratching his head and the flies still buzzing around the shop.

"I thought I was in with a juicy murder story there," he told me. "And on my birthday as well."

So what, if anything, is going on in Odyssey? Why the flies?