With just a few days to go before Christmas, Basil Kalashnikov, the 'Lead' or some other sort of 'Chair' (or Top Twot - Ed), of Sodden Prickney Parish Council, called an emergency meeting to discuss the worrying outbreak of Honeymoon Cystitis in the village. Needles were in short supply and Dr Hubert Flange was becoming increasingly incommode about his supplies of calming balm!
Some of the culprits were still not taking precautions against the problem, by not wearing masks during the sessions of bicyclism, and in fact, Clr Cynthia Molestrangler had publicly admonished Clr Norman Wibble for his insistence that his Janet Reger mask is acceptable, even with some slightly over-stretched elastic interfering with the Sellotaped arms of his glasses, but maintaining a certain barrier between his unfortunate mouth, and the various ears of any lady he can grasp in the sherry aisles in Tesco!
PC Lumbersnatch was called to the meeting to explain to them all, in halting English, what actually went on in the car park, but with Ms Edwina Baggage having her hands full at the time, and Ron Groat still trying to recover his composure after a steamy and energetic discussion with Miss Amelia Newt in the rear seat of the Wolsey 1500, there was very little to report!
As the redoubtable policeman struggled to read his notes, Ms Emily D'Artagnan-Minge decided that enough was enough, and proceeded to venture forth to the infamous broom cupboard with Clr Kalashnikov's stepson, Kyoto, where an expected foray into the questions arising from the medical emergency was expected to at least bring some relaxing comfort to both persons, and help the committee to decide on the course of action to be taken, after they'd finished.
After several minutes, during which Clr Kalashnikov entertained the members with a whistling extravaganza of ditties from 'The Pirates of Penzance', the couple returned to give their verdict!
Nobody took much notice however; Miss Newt decided that her liaisons with Clr Ron Groat needed a refresher course, Ms Edwina Baggage began to eye PC Lumbersnatch's truncheon and with all that going on, Basil Kalashnikov reverted to his time-honoured method of closing the meeting by shouting 'Sod everybody, I'm going home to get as pissed as a fart, as it's bloody Christmas'!
On how I wish that one of these right on chairperson would adopt the monnicker "Stool"
ReplyDeleteSo much more self effacing and appropriate.
It isn't only the infamous broom cupboard. Questions have been asked about strange noises coming from that little room next to the boiler house which is always warm. Why was there a queue of chaps outside supposedly waiting for some event called "strictly come masking"?
ReplyDeleteDoon, Clr Kalashnikov still has to prove his legitimacy to even be in the UK, let alone be on the SP Council!
ReplyDeleteHis God-fearing wife (or trans-bird-partner - whatever), despairs at his forays into places forbidden, like 'The Bells' on gay nights, when he should really be at home tending his bonsais!
Edwina Baggage has attempted to invert his trousers on many occasions, but his reply is usually monosyllabic as well as incomprehensible!
You've actually struck a chord there, AK, because that little room is often used as a standby when the broom cupboard is occupied by certain members of the council, namely Miss Newt and Ron Groat, who wish to remain anonymous!
ReplyDeleteThat boiler hasn't been serviced for several years, unlike Ms Edwina Baggage...
Here on the island we have no concerns for the plagues that are sweeping the world... Mea Culpa. However we are having a few problems with night starvation. Many thanks for the relish by the by, and an enjoyable Yule.
ReplyDeleteThank you Lucien - we did in fact have a small disaster here and there, but on the whole, police station food isn't that bad nowadays, and they did play a few carols in the cells to cheer all forty-three of us!
ReplyDeleteWell the new year got off to a roaring start. I stood accused of smuggling contraband onto the island. Dr. Tormod Trygve Halvorsen discovered a Bruvik Svalbard wristwatch during a routine cavity search on Monday afternoon. Luckily for me it had been engraved to Dr. Jens Ingvald Knag Fylkesnes, a present from his girlfriend Tone Sønsterud.
ReplyDeleteJens had lost it along with an expanding metal sleeve garter, during a previous routine cavity search, last summer.
... and before you say it. No, it was not a pleasant way to pass the time.
ReplyDeleteÅ skrive noe bak øret!
ReplyDeleteMy goodness!
ReplyDeleteI switch on the electronic messaging machine to check the temperature of the sweet potato futures in Nigeria, and here you are, cavities akimbo!
May I ask - er - if the watch had a steel, or a gold strap?
The reason why I ask, is that with smuggling becoming a national sport these days, the ultra violet rays would react differently to cavity insertions where gold is concerned! The bog-standard ones would just be left to rot, but as gold is at an all-time high, I'd hope that the said watch was returned to you after a good washdown with a Terry Wogan 'J' Cloth and a pint of Brasso!
Har klokken et lite batteri? I så fall kan du kanskje slippe unna med beskrivelsen av et seksuelt hjelpemiddel!
ReplyDeleteBless you my dear sir! The strap had been leather, but that had been long reclaimed by my bowels. Also its working were automatic, so due to peristalsis the time was still spot on. I am put in mind of the shop window of the horologist's on Lewes high street. He always had a Breitling chronmat in a jar of bubbling water, on display in the window, to prove the watch's imperviance to water. Surely my experience would be of interest to the advertising department of Bruvik don't you think..?
ReplyDeleteThough i think squatting in the window of a shop, passing a wristwatch, might be beneath my dignity.
ReplyDelete