Tags
58-inch plasma TV, Emmjay, Father O'Way, Men's health, Mitchell Johnson, sex moves, warrior body
Story by Emmjay
A dejected Father O’Way pulled up a stool and waited for Merv to pour him a ‘Szarz n soda’. Merv was experimenting and climbing on the wave of overpriced cocktails. He had decided that his signature cocktail was going to be a whimsical butcher-inspired number with three parts Johnny Whacker Red, one part soda and one part crispy bacon rind crackling bits.
Father O’Way looked dubiously at the concoctiontail and sipped as he would if it was a Dubonnet and lemonade.
I despair he said to Merv, dispensing with the quotation marks.
Oh, why is that Father ? Did the Bish actually put the skids under St Generic Brands ? said Merv, for whom the lack of quotation marks was proving difficult since he wasn’t clear about where he was supposed to come in or whether he was supposed to say “he said”. He decided to wait until Emmjay came to his sentences and began to put the punctuation marks back in.
“Ok” said Emmjay from the margin. “Icon take a hint”.
No, said Father O’Way.
“Emmjay, Father O’Way isn’t using punctuation marks again”, said Merv.
“All right. All right”, said the good father in an exasperated tone. “I’m exasperated by the utter shwistle young people are reading these days. You remember when Pix magazine used to publish outrageously lurid, but funny articles like “Two-headed pensioner refused second pension – Outrage” ? he said.
“Yeah, that one really cut me up father. I mean that sounds pretty unfair on a pensioner. He did actually have two heads. I saw the picture” Merv said.
“It was a bodgied-up picture, Merv. There was no damned two-headed pensioner”, said the good father, self-censoring himself. “Oh yeah,” Merv said, perjuring himself in God’s eyes.
“Well,” continued Father O’Way, look at this tripe” he said, thrusting the latest copy of “Men’s Health” in the general direction of Merv.
Editor’s note: Astute readers with hi-res screens may be able to detect that it was not actually the latest edition of Men’s Health, but it was the latest one in Amal Gam (the Erko dentist’s) waiting room. Amal (he called himself Dr Amal, but everyone knows he’s just a dentist) noticed the good father reading the august tome and reluctantly parted with it. He was reluctant because he thought Mitchell Johnson’s wall-to-wall smile was good advertising. Not that Mitchell was an habitué of Amal’s ‘You killem and I drillem’ salon de dentine, mind you.
“This is fraud, Merv” said the good father. “Look at this”, he said pointing to his own well-upholstered midriff. “Build a warrior body in four weeks! I’ve been building a warrior priest body for forty years and it’s still a work in progress. And look at this…” he said “Eat pizza, lose weight”.
“What kind of mugs do you think these bozos take us for ?” said Merv, pretending that he had grasped what Father O’Way was on about. In truth, Merv was considering another eye-catching piece titled “8 sex moves to blow her mind” and he was about to borrow the mag for a closer critical review, but Father O’Way was on a roll and had moved on to “Burn off the Belly”, Psych Out Your Enemies”, “Schmooze the In-laws” and the debatably useless exhortation to “Ride a Stampede Bull”.
“Stampede !” said Father O’Way.
“Surely they meant ‘stampeding'” said Voice, satisfied that she had trumped Emmjay by engineering a single quotation mark inside a double quotation mark.
“And that Mitchell Johnson quote !” said Father O’Way … “You can never think that you’ve made it”.
“Like not even if you’re the spearhead fast bowler who single-handedly demolished England five blot ?” inquired Hung.
“Ah, it’s a total wank,” said the good father, who was picking up Hung’s argot at an alarming rate… without really having a vast understanding of what it meant except that Hung usually said it when he wanted to express a lack of appreciation for something.
“It says ‘the magazine men live by”, said Father O’Way. “Does that explain the depressing state of play ?”
“No, we thrashed the Poms”, said Merv. “That bit at least is ridgy didge”.
“What about that other headline Merv ?” said Voice. “Never need glasses. “Pour me another plastic canoe of Trotter’s Ale”, she said.
“Very funny”, said Merv, discreetly feeling under his apron to see how his warrior body was coming along”.
“Geeze, a 58-inch Plasma TV for envy reader !” hooted Hung, thumbing his way to page 82 – the first page some gullible punter in Amal Gam’s waiting room had torn out. “That’s a bit depressing”, he said, handing the mag over to Merv.
“I dunno” said Merv – whose mind had turned to planning an eight part romantic pantomime.
“I wonder what happened to that two-headed pensioner”, said Hung.
sandshoe said:
My kid was in one of these but for body building. 🙂
LikeLike
vivienne29 said:
Who’s Mitchell Johnson?
LikeLike
algernon1 said:
He’s some who likes rubbing his balls, Vivienne.
Fast bowler in the Australian Cricket team.
LikeLike
vivienne29 said:
Not rugby league then. Since the magnificent 70s, all our cricketers looks alike to me.
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
Love the quotation marks gag, nice work Boss 🙂
LikeLike
Therese Trouserzoff said:
Thanks, Hung. I’m damned if I can remember where to place punctuation after the words and before the quotation mark and after the quotation mark and before the full stop. I suppose I’ll have to look it up unless Voice comes to my “rescue,”.
LikeLike
Hung One On said:
If the sugar refining company won’t come to my rescue
Who’s gonna save me…
LikeLike
Therese Trouserzoff said:
Well, when pressed on the issue of his favourite Oils track, the rodent said “Beds are Burning” which proves without a doubt that he is a man of many facets…. or has never heard the song and is a massive wanker. I’m pretty sure I know where to place my bet 🙂
LikeLike
vivienne29 said:
Well I enjoyed that. Especially the punctuation bits – clever. We need more quality silly stuff.
LikeLike
Therese Trouserzoff said:
Thank you, Viv. I find the older I get the more I wake up feeling quite like Spike. In fact my Dad used to call me “Spike” when I was a little tacker. Perhaps it was a prophesy ! I certainly hope so 🙂
LikeLike
algernon1 said:
Struth, Merv thinks he’s a Lothario now, will his skills never cease. Or was it medically assisted.
I’m with Hung though what happened to the two headed pensioner, perhaps they moved to a valley north of here.
LikeLike
Big M said:
Fair Kin Mare Chick, at least that’s what Foodge told me to write down, not that he’s had much Fair Kin lately.
LikeLike
Therese Trouserzoff said:
Tell him that the soap and toothbrush is waiting for him at Uncle Emm’s place ! Thanks, BTW, Big ! 🙂
LikeLike
Big M said:
I’ve been trying to get him on the train, but he joined the Boys’ Brigade. You know what he’s like with uniforms. he looks a right count in it! Especially that stupid bloody hat.
LikeLike
Therese Trouserzoff said:
Not the fedora, surely. Not with the Boy’s Brigade uniform. Oh, dear !
LikeLike
Big M said:
No, no, not the fedora, the BB have their own silly hat that looks a bit like the ones worn by Naval Seamen, except it’s in navy, not white. Foodge bloody loves it. I refuse to let him out of the house wearing it, so, I think to spite me, he wears his Newcastle Men’s Croquet uniform, which is only slightly less conspicuous. He does love rolling his balls on the green.
LikeLike
algernon1 said:
Beautify written Big, do you rub balls in Croquet.
LikeLike
Big M said:
It’s a great game, with one hand free to do ‘other things’.
LikeLike
algernon1 said:
And a game of skill at that ,the rub of the green not necessarily in play.
LikeLike