Episode 60.5 Foodge softens with Age

Written by Big M

For reasons best known to the Sand Man, Foodge arose just as the sun was peeking over Inner Western Cyberia. He pulled the curtains back and his eyes were drawn to an unlikely pair, slowly jogging through the yard. One was short, slight, clearly female and very fit. The other was a big man, who ran slowly and deliberately, as though it was something he hadn’t done for a while. “Crikey, Granny and Merv are a remarkable pair, perhaps I should get back into the gym?” This, we all know is pretty unlikely, as Foodge is, well Foodge.

There was another figure in the yard, some fellow digging and fiddling about at the back of the chook shed. Foodge raced down the stairs and through the back door to find O’Hoo was the mystery man. “What are you up to Mr O’Hoo?” Foodge asked, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Ah, Mr Foodge, you’ve come to help rebuild the storm water drain from the hen house roof!” Exclaimed O’Hoo heartily, who was surrounded by white plastic pipes, angles, glue and tools.

“I thought you eschewed plastic in favour of the more traditional cast iron” commented Foodge, thinking himself rather clever for knowing about workman stuff.

“Yes, well, it makes sense to maintain the historic value of the pub and cast iron pipes are part of the history, but out here in the yard, the chooks will be glad of dry feet, or claws, regardless”. O’Hoo already had the down pipe assembled and was mounting it on brackets. “When I get this connected we should gather up some bum-nuts for brekky

“Bum what’s?” Foodge was more perplexed than usual.

“You know, bum nuts, cackle berries” O’Hoo was already starting to fill the trench that went out to the back lane.

“What, eggs?” Foodge was still bamboozled.

“Chook eggs, just go through that gate and look in their laying boxes…no, not that one, she’s too old to lay” like us all.

Foodge tentatively entered the chook shed, stooping down to check each laying

box. Within a couple of minutes he had a good armful of eggs and O’Hoo held open the gate to let him out. Unfortunately an ISA Brown dashed out between Foodge’s slow moving feet. O’Hoo cornered her in the yard and scooped her up, gently placing her back through the gate.

Foodge, observant as ever. “Why do we get eggs without a rooster?”

“You know what eggs are, don’t you Foodge?”

“Baby chickens?” ventured Foodge.

“Not necessarily” O’Hoo warmed to the subject. “I mean, women don’t need men around to menstruate and men don’t need women around to masturbate, do they?”

Foodge flushed with embarrassment. ‘We don’t need to go there, I mean…,er, um”

“Well, that’s what eggs are” as O’Hoo dumped his tool bag just inside the back door.

Back in the kitchen, O’Hoo already had eggs, bacon and mushrooms frying in a pan, whilst Foodge made some coffee. “So, you’re ready to put the hard word on Granny?” Grinned O’Hoo as bits of yolk cascaded from his mouth, down his unshaven chin.

“Hard word about what?”  Foodge was still struggling to get the milk to froth.

“You know!”  O’Hoo now had bits of egg and bacon down his shirt.

I know, do I? Foodge was concentrating hard on the angle of the milk jug and manipulating the steam pressure. “Ah, that’s it.” He slid the milky foam into each cup.

“You know, the horizontal samba, playing on the trouser flute?” O’Hoo was becoming exasperated.

“Well, yes, we could go dancing, but neither of us play the flute, I think.” Foodge was now wearing a milk mustache.

“Christ you’re obtuse Foodge, sex, you know S-E-X, sex!”

“Well, um…er”. Foodge chased an errant piece of egg around with his fork.

“Ah, you sly dog, you’ve already been there” said O’Hoo knowingly tapping the side of his nose with his forefinger.

“No, no, I haven’t had sex” stammered Foodge.

“What, you haven’t had sex with Granny?” gasps O’Hoo.

“No, I haven’t had sex, unless you count waking up in bed with you and Granny”, unaware of the preceding ten hours.

TO BE CONTINUED UNFORTUNATELY