Story by Mark, Edited by Big M
Merv was worried. Foodge had become more mentally disturbed than usual, so it was likely to be about a woman, or a man, but probably a woman. Merv panned the bar and spotted the usual characters, minus Foodge, who had gone to get his balls polished, bowling, that is, and thought to himself that he should do something a bit different for the patrons. Hmm, the the Inner Cyberian Cup was coming up, he thought, maybe he could get granny to do some food and get everyone to chip in and have a sweep.
“Thanks, Merv, for the embellishments” says Gib W as he picks fly shit his jacket , ignoring the wedges and sour cream on his shirt. “I’m still not sure whether Foodge has played hide the sausage, we may eventually find out. The events in Brussels Sproits are particularly disturbing.”
“Hope you don’t mind me asking Gib but what the fuck are embellishments?” asks Merv.
“This sounds like men only business. So pretend I’m not here and keep chatting.” Says Nurse Barbara downing a pink drink shooter followed by a canoe of Trotter’s Special while she lights her fag. Hmm, thinks Merv, these nurses are good at multitasking.
“I dunno, Barbara, knowing Foodge, not much happened, aside from a post imbibing fart-fest” Informs Gib, whilst nodding towards his own empty canoe.
“And we’ll eavesdrop … er, um, … listen” says the picturesque Yvonne who is sitting next to Nurse Barbara, sipping her pink drink and wondering what has she gotten herself into here.
“Yes, rough talk at the Gentleman’s Bar. The last time the women folk eavesdropped on the fellas around the BBQ they learned plenty about solar panels, storage batteries, and losses due to localised heating within DC leads” says Gib scratching at his navel, dislodging enough belly button fluff to stuff a small pillow, and giving all us patrons insight as to what men really talk about at BBQ’s. Yes rough talk indeed.
“Do they serve horse meat here at the Pigs Arms? Just asking” enquires GO, the distinguished artist and author, married to the beautiful H
“Hope so Gerard. Most of the supermarket chains do” chimes in O’Hoo as he checks to see if his leg bag is full.
“These moderators at the Drum are driving me mad, all I said was that Onanism suits you and they didn’t effing publish it, oops, wrong story, lets see, that’s right I didn’t make a comment” realises hph returning to the Drum to fight for the cause.
“Its what they do with old racehorses isn’t it” says Angler On as he studies the form guide.
“I was at a horse auction recently and even young ones go. If they look good as lasagne or ravioli then they are in trouble” interjects O’Hoo, forever the foodie remembering his own mother’s cat fritters.
“Well if horses were bred like cattle where for eating that would be OK but to do so as they don’t sell or are trouble isn’t. Many in Outer Cyberia eat horse”. Says Angler On.
“Yes I agree Angler, eating is very cultural. What actually upset me more was a young thoroughbred was led into the ring, very handsome chestnut called Burger. The auctioneer kept calling out ‘Must be cooked though before eating, suitable for freezing, great with chips and salad.’ Several of the horses were referred to in this manner and are sold with or without sauce” says O’Hoo suddenly an expert on everything horse.
“My step sister is married to a Henchman” says Gib “Loves horse so much that he will eat them without tomato sauce” admires Gib. In fact not even Smokey BBQ thinks Gib, now that’s tough.
“Granny does a lovely Goat Rogan Josh” say Angler.
“Rogan Josh was a racehorse. Nothing to do with Phallic Symbol though. On the other hand I do like a good goat curry.” says Nurse Barbara butting her fag out and wondering if the author actually knows where this story s going. [Authors Note: No idea actually]
“Yes, a friend won a fair bit of money off Rogan Josh, only because they had Indian takeaway the previous night. Sued for salmonella, made a motza” says Merv.
“I went to school with Rogan, we studied Horseplay together” states O’Hoo in his usual uninformed way. “Hmm, sounds good, suddenly my kids look attractive”
“DG, you’re joshing. You would eat your kids?” exclaims Gib.
“Gib, would I ever Josh you” laughs O’Hoo, he he he he “Lets face it they are about as useful as cats”
“Nope,I didn’t go to school with anyone named Phallis, but there were plenty of Richards” says Angler missing a few lines of script.
“My mother in laws name was Phyllis, is that close?” says Yvonne reading a line meant for O’Hoo who had taken himself to the Mens seeing his leg and colostomy bag were full.
“She told me, marry who like except a black or a Catholic or even worse a black catholic. Then I took Hung One On home, a Chinese black catholic. With gubbermint help and plastic surgery Hung turned into an Anglo-Saxon-Celt atheist, wheeze got along fine after that.” finishes Yvonne as O’Hoo returns and orders another canoe.
[Hey editor Yvonne here, this doesn’t make any sense]
[Don’t worry Yvonne it never does]
“The name of our English Head was Richard Head. He was such a lovely bloke that very few of us took to the piss” laments Gib.
“When I was a nursing student I looked after a chap called Richard Head. After handover I would go and talk to all the patients in the ward, mainly just to suss them out a bit. Anyway when I got to the said gentleman and said my name was Barbara he said ‘Nice to meet you Barbara, call me Penis’ True story” relates Nurse Barbara.
“I’ve know a few Richards, they all tended to be Penises. I had a Scouting leader called Carmichael Hunt, didn’t like his name being abbreviated. Don’t know of too many blokes being called Phyllis though. Mrs Angler had an aunt called Phyllis. They called her auntie Phil. I was always confused.” obfuscated Angler like most Foodge episodes.
“Yes!” continues Angler, “Out of Bordello Boy and Phallic Pride I understand”.
“Hmm, good bloodlines and great eating I believe” says O’Hoo
“Roy and HG had a fantastic stayer called Rooting King I wonder if there is anything in Phallic Prides past linking it. Apparently a good stayer” says Angler. “Now is there any truth in the story that someone has acquired a horse called Phallic Symbol.”
“Yes, bound to be in the next episode” says O’Hoo reading lines now off the back of his beer coaster, just like the gubbermint really. “Oh, the race is over, who won Merv?” O’Hoo questions.
“Farrk Nose” replies Merv. “But Aynuss was a late scratching.”
“By much?” asks O’Hoo.