Story by Big M

Granny was in tears. A woman crying was one of those things that made Merv very uncomfortable, like the Minstrel Cycle, and watching childbirth. Merv decided to take the bull by the horns. “What’s going on Granny?” As he draped a massive, muscular arm around her quaking shoulders.

“I…can’t…say.” Granny’s words came in sobs.

“Go on, love.” Merv was quite tender for an ex-boxer.

“It’s him.”

“Who?”

“Him.”

“You mean Foodge. What’s the feckin’ toe rag done now?” Merv was getting emotional, which for him, was like being constipated, but more so.

“Don’t get angry with him, I don’t think he can help it!” Granny was still shaking.

“Don’t get feckin’ angry. What can’t he help?” Merv examined the knuckles of his right hand.

“Wearin’ dresses!”

“I knew he was a bit soft around the edges, but dresses. How do you know?”

“Well, since he’s been staying at the Pig’s I’ve been doing his washing, so this morning I took three of his white (formerly yellow) business shirts to hang in his wardrobe, opened the door and what do I see? Long black dresses!” Granny buried her face into Merv’s chest, smearing his best Pig’s Arms singlet with tears and snot.

“Right, we’ll see about this!” Merv took off to the Gentleman’s Bar, where Foodge was enjoying a pint of Best, with a beer chaser.

“Good morning Mr Merv.” Foodge sounded ebullient. “I’ve got some excellent news that should make everyone happy!”

“’appy, you’ve left Granny in tears upstairs. Let’s go an’ see why!” Merv did his best to avoid dragging Foodge upstairs by the ears.

“Granny in tears, but why? This is great news for her, too.” Foodge downed his pint, and then took to the stairs.

“Let’s ‘ave a little look in your room, then Foodge.” Merv sounded menacing.

Foodge opened the door and stood back for all to see.

“And the wardrobe!” Merv stood clenching and unclenching his fists.

Foodge flung the wardrobe door open with great aplomb.

Merv reached in and dragged out two dresses in in one paw like hand. “What are these? Pole dancin’ outfits.”

“Oh, those.” Laughed Foodge. ‘That’s my good news. I’ve been re-admitted to the Bar. I just need to get my old wig dry cleaned, then I’ll be back in full form.”

Oh Foodge, you’ve done it again!