Merv is Undecided

28 Monday Nov 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

Tags

M is for Merv, sweet and chewy…

Merv is Undecided.

Merv awoke and wondered to himself as to whether he should get out of bed. He was undecided. Trapped, he thought, regardless of what he does next it becomes a decision. Problem was Merv was feeling highly undecided, not those other words that can no longer be used but highly undecided.

Granny enters the room with Merv’s breakfast, 14 pieces of bacon, scrambled egg and a mug of coffee. Even though Granny and Merv were no longer a couple, due to patrons of the Pigs Arms running out of emetics, she still, now in the background, so deep in the background that it will never be mentioned again, ever GST fucking ever, okay, that she still loved her man, just like all good women do.

Merv fondles Granny’s bosom but after advice from,

https://pigsarms.com.au/2016/11/27/speaking-as-we-were-at-the-bar-about-knockers/

“Merv, we are not allowed to tit one another off any more, the patrons have spoken and look at what Hon Shades says about tits, Nurse Barbara and Sister Yvonne agree but I dunno” moans Granny, moaning and moaning ah, yes [Hung here Merv, move on mate. Ewe and Granny is finished]

“I dunno either Granny. In my next life I coming back as Off, everyone seems to want to tell me to fu%$…”

“Merv, kiddies could be listening”.

Merv showers and dresses thinking that he ain’t going to fall for that one again.

“Where’s Father O’Way” cries Merv “ I need GOD(Gordon O’Donnell)”.

“Bless you my son, in the name of the father the son and the holy ghost, I now pronounce you man and wife, I forgive you your sins, 5 hail Mary’s blah blah blah” says Father O’Way, parish priest at the church of St Generic Brand, Inner Western Cyberia, down the road and around the corner from the pub.

A previous Sandy…

“Sandy, get Gordon, I want to speak to Gordon. Anyway what’s all this crap you are speaking?”

“Stereotyping but really I don’t know. I just say whatever Hung tells me, I guess you could call me a yes man”

“Me too, great band, Your’s is No Disgrace, bow, bow bow bow, bow” sings Merv.

***

Gordon, the creator of the universe, will not be happy if he is interrupted watching replays of the Bolt Report. It makes him very tensile indeed. However he gets the biggest laugh from this show.

Gordon appears as a hologram in the front bar following a phone call from Father O’Way, sees the beers and then materialises just like all supernatural bullshit artists can do in this fictional story.

Gordon, in another dimension…

“Hey, what’s up Merv?” asks Gordon as he downs a canoe.

“I dunno, 500 words maybe, meaning of life, me and Granny, next weeks lotto numbers, just asking like, I’m undecided.”

“I dunno” says GOD.

***

“What about you Gib?” asks Merv.

“Me mate, 100% rock solid, never waver or fence sit in my life ever, spit on me grave, yeah, dunno.”

“What about you Angler?” presses Merv, looking for some positive reassurance, you know, like when the coach has the full backing of the board.

“Hang on” says Angler “Just checking to see if I’m back from holidays, waiting, look at the FCK’ed scoreboard now, yes, back from holidays given the replay, no idea what you are talking about so dunno.”

[Authors Note: All fun, no offence intended to anyone.]

That’s me in the corner…

Merv and the Discarded Episode

17 Thursday Nov 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

granny, Merv

Merv on leave

Merv and the Discarded Episode.

Merv was going to say “Granny, where’s me coffee?”

And Granny was going to reply “In your mug you great big mug” but she didn’t, see this episode has been discarded, so everything that was going to be said didn’t actually get said.

“Thanks Granny” Merv was going to say, then he was going to give her a peck on the cheek, but alas, no instead nothing happened. No advanced frottage either.

Gib was going to say ”Will you two love birds stop it” but no, nothing happened.

Angler was going to pipe in about how it should be legal to discharge shot guns in the front bar but given the circumstances thought better of it.

Hon, Nurse Barbara and Sister Yvonne all seemed unusually quiet. No discussions of nursing rounds, first aid remedies or lippy and eyeliner were discussed. Cigarettes and ale were the order of the day, well sort of. Men’s arses, fair enough.

“Frigging Gord” unsays Hon Shades “don’t ask me about ROM or COM, just computer bullshit”

“Untolded you that Merv would unask for this” unsays Nurse Barbara.

Foodge entered the bar looking unresponsive. Oh yes, you know this could be the new, you know, thing, maybe the new thing but, be careful what you wish for. Expensive etc. may now finally get a rest. I hope everyone understands what I am not unsaying.

Anyhoo even the finest barrister in Inner Cyberia could only muster “Canoe of Trotter’s Special” but even that didn’t get said and a simple hand gesture to Merv and the order was placed, almost.

Now for the bad bit, er, um, unless you think this is already unbad or only moderately bad I’m sorry but this story is only going to get better or worse or even better unbetter and unworse.

I could go on but the Unpolice are here to take me unaway. let’s keep reading and TV’s crap so anyhoo O’Hoo unentered the bar after waking up on the pool table. Bruising aside he looked remarkably well for an octogenarian in his thirties. How unthinking of me, yes unback to silence between Granny and Merv.

“It’s over, the people have unspoken” unsays Merv.

“Unlook, okay” unsays Granny “ but how about one more unfuc@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@”

“Grrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy”

Oh, ungranny…

Merv and a New Guest

15 Tuesday Nov 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

granny, Hon Shades, Merv

Merv and Granny feel the heat

Merv and a New Guest

The night had passed and Merv woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. Oh last night, what a night to remember. The passion, the coming together of two spirits. There is something special about the bonding and relaxation of your partner, smoothing and calming then sleep, deep, deep sleep then the snoring. Oh well.

Granny enters with Merv’s 14 pieces of bacon and some scrambled egg and now a mug for his coffee.

They kiss lightly at first, then deeply honouring each others soul and commitment from the night before. The feeling was intense between them. More powerful than a locomotive. Merv gently caresses Granny’s generous bosom and she smiles “Yes tonight my sweetheart. Now in the mean time get the fark up and get down the bar, a guest has arrived.”

Don’t you just hate that, just at the good bit, you know, rumpy pumpy and the author changes tack, and I hate early mornings, thinks Merv, surely 11 or 12 O’Clock is okay?

Merv enters the bar after his liaison with Granny.

“Ladies and Gentlemen and piglets and even yo O’Hoo I would like to introduce a new guest at the Arms, Hon Shades” announces Merv.

Applause all round from the crew, even O’Hoo.

“My name is Hon”

For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow

For she’s a jolly good fellow and so say all of us

Beers all round. Roar the crew.

“Hon Shades”

For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow

For she’s a jolly good fellow and no one can deny.

Beers all round. The bar has gone viral.

“I like poetry, music art and writing short stories”

For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow

For she’s a jolly good fellow and so say all of us

Beers all round.

Can any one else see a trend developing? I can and I’m the author.

“Where are you from Hon?” askes Merv.

“I’m from Mount FarFarAway”

“Is that close to here?

“Yes, well, it’s down the road and around the corner.”

***

Merv and Granny have settled into Heaven, the name they give the flat above the pub.

“Granny, my doctor has recommended that I do some deep breathing tonight, can you help me?”

“Hum, yep, I think I might”

“Why do my two minute noodles take three minutes to cook?” think speaks Merv.

“Just a mystery of the universe, ask Gordon, he’ll know, anyway shut up and start kissing you big lug!!”

Merv and Granny in formal mode.

Episode 79: Foodge and Pigs Law

09 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by Mark in Big M, Foodge Private Dick

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

Foodge, Merv

Foodge and Pigs Law

Story by Big M.

Foodge was angry. Not just umbraged, or endowed with a sense of ennui. He was fucking crazy ( I thought you didn’t like to use cuss words, Mr Foodge). OK, he was pretty upset. He guided the Zephyr carefully through the wall-to-wall automotive shag pile known as ‘Sydney traffic’. The Zeph wasn’t suited to this sort of work. She was more familiar with chasing through darkened back lanes, or twisty stuff on the Bell’s Line of Road, or even giving a Porsche 911 an automotive finger through the rear windscreen. Truth be told, the old Zeph was running a little hot. Our intrepid friends from the Hell’s Angles had blessed her with some Sydnie University Engineerin’ Magic, but had failed to update the cooling system.

Foodge’s temper matched the temperature meter on the dash. He pulled off to a side street, realising that he was within walking (ambling) distance of the Pigs Arms. Foodge carefully locked the beast, and gave AA (NRMA) a call, then, taking a couple of short cuts, found himself in the back yard of the Pigs. All was quiet except for Manne shovelling chicken guano (he called it guano, we all know it as shit) into the compost bins. ‘Hey, Manne, I thought you were supposed to be back in America to cover the election with Neville.’

‘Well, I would, but shovelling shit seemed like a better offer!’ Manne flashed a grin that was more gap than tooth.

Foodge quickly found himself in the Gentleman’s Bar. ‘A pint, then another, plus rye chasers.’

Didn’t sound right to Merv. The last time Foodge frank rye was the night his folks passed on, so he quickly poured a couple of pints, then waved a stoppered bourbon bottle over the top. ‘You OK mate.’ Merv never knew how to start these conversations.

‘No, I WAS alright, I had new chambers, new secretary, and new clientele, but my OLD secretary turned up, and fucked everything up!’ Foodge was moving on to pint number two.

‘Why beat yerself up? Circumstances beyond yer control.” Merv filled another couple of canoes.

“Mr Merv, I am desperate to make a contribution, to you, Granny, our mates.’ Foodge nodded at O’Hoo who was already sprawled across a table. ‘And society in general. I am not a bartender, cellarman, or tradesman. I am a barrister, and I intend to barrist!’

‘Well, mate, yer rooms, I mean, chambers fell through, but there’s still plenty ‘ere that respect yer, and would pay fer yer time or advice.’ Merv felt like he was throwing a deflated life jacket to a drowning man. ‘What about law at the Pub, you know, like philosophy at the pub, or religion at the pub, but law?’

Foodge sat up on the bar stool, swaying slightly. ‘Show me the money.’

Well, mate what I reckon you could do is present a case, you know, summit from the papers, present the pros an’ cons, say for a half hour, then invite folk for a chat.’

‘Mr Merv, you may be the smartest man this side of Lewisham!’

Zeph junior

Merv Recoils

08 Tuesday Nov 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

granny, Merv

Hey, Merv here, sip and relax, forever…

The Real Merv.

Merv has recoiled from the last episode and is actually a bit pissed off at the writer that lead him naked down an alley way so to speak.

As the author, I am only able to type for short periods of time, given the beating Merv, my new pal, gave me. Boy did I learn a lesson. Pity I can’t remember it, oh well.

Merv now presents himself with pressed white silk shirt, black trousers and immaculate hair, black shoes. Clean filed short nails and all nasal hair clipped, number one honcho. Forward to side by side, you know in the trenches, side by side, oh yes, so that you could push him in front of the bullets, yeah, what a guy.

This new bouffant behavior at the bar was causing a bit of a stir among the patrons.

Nurse Barbara and Sister Yvonne were chatting in a lowered tone.

“Next they’ll want lippy and eyeliner” says Nurse Barbara.

“No way, it’s too ex-pensive” grins Sister Yvonne.

“Is that really ex-pensive with a shitload of ex-pensive on top of that?”

“That’s the one. Would you like to go down to the shop?”

“Er, nuh,we did that one.”

Meanwhile Gib and Angler are totally unperturbed about this new style by Merv. Just keep the beers coming and all is good. Aren’t us blokes simple.

They have their shotguns straddled across the bar. O’Nwee’s from Iunne of course, cleaning this, comparing that.

“Hey, see Merv has turned himself into a purse carrying Nancy boy.” remarks Gib as he examines the trade mark on the O’Nwee shot gun Maid in Iunne by O’Nwee it says. True class thinks Gib.

Angler stares at his beer. Remember Totters Ale can have a strange effect on folk. “Given the Earth is close to other celestial bodies I think it is inevitable that Merv’s new affliction could be placed on a bell curve distribution however subtropical rain forests are the best.”

“Whoa there fella” cries Gib “Merv, two more and I’m having what he’s having”

Merv pours two more Specials for the boys. “Hey fellas, can we have it on record that I’m dressed in this episode?”

Roars of laughter and wolf whistles rain on supreme.

“I’ll take that as a yes then” groans Merv.

The light dims just like in the movies. Granny comes and embraces Merv. That hug and the electricity between them is so strong that they would have had a rebate if fed into the grid. They feel each others breath, hot, strong and deep. “Your bewtiful” says Granny.

“Ewe is bewtiful two” muffles Merv

[Hung here. Hey if there’s a sex scene here I’m out, it’s explicit in my contract, no sex scenes.

Okay Mark here, I’ll take over]

They caress. Casually and at first lip to lip then with their hands they feel each others faces, identifying the inner being in each, then running their hands upon each other, kissing deeply, so special, so personal, so loving, two soul mates merging.

Merv feels Granny’s curvaceous bosom as she holds him in, not to let go, she has her man, will he respond?

The tension builds as they kiss deeply, passionately and all those other words that end in ly and ing. The longing and the wanting all here tonight, yes this could be it. Is there someone special in my arms tonight?

Granny ascends into heaven…

Merv wants a Mug

06 Sunday Nov 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

granny, Merv

Simulated Mug

Merv wants a Mug.

Oh what a glorious day, hmm, the sun has risen, well about 6 hours ago and life is under way in it’s usual manner. Merv rises from the love tub and saunters into the front bar.

“Granny, I want a mug from now on” orders Merv.

“Fark ewe, they is two ex-pensive” replies Granny.

“Well how ex-pensive are they?”

“Well think of ex-pensive then add a shit load more. I’ll take you down to the mug shop, I’m sure you have been there before” continues Granny.

So off they trod down the road and around the corner to the Mug Shop. Merv immediately realises that he has been coming here well, is your whole life a lot?

Granny takes Merv to the mug counter. Please take a ticket the sign says so Granny retrieves one.

The ticket says Thank you. You have been countered and will be taken as mug No:142.

Hmm, thinks Granny, something ain’t right here seeing it’s only me and Merv.

A man appears from behind the counter. “Number 141” then after a pause “Number 143”

“Hay, wot’s goin on ear, me and Merv are 142!!” demands Granny.

“Sorry, have you been taken for a mug lately?” asks the man.

“Wot?”

“Sorry, only odds today” says the man “however I suppose you do look a bit odd and I suppose I’ll break every rule in the book and serve you.”

Bloody hell thinks Granny, what have I got myself into here.

“Now Sir Merv. You seem to have mugness down to a fine art attending here with your daughter and still in your night attire, a true mug if ever, what type of liquacious receptacle are you looking for?” smarts the man.

“WTF, I sleep in the bollocky”

“Then you are in not only trouble but really big trouble. No where in the text above says that you actually got dressed, out of love tub, sauntered into bar, came down to shop, wow, you are one crazy mug.”

“Shit mate sell me a mug will ya, crown jewels and all that” pleads Merv.

“Well mate I can bullshit all day and make you spend lots of money but the best mugs are made by O’Nwee from Iunne and are only 20 bucks. Whaddya say? Deal or no deal?”

“Deal”

[Sound of Pleece siren under the Doppler effect times 4]

“Hold it, hold it” says Sargent Sulphate of the Mug Squad for the Inner Cyberian Pleece. “The gubbermint now attaches a surcharge of 10 bucks on any mug.”

“Hey, that ain’t fair, 10 is one more than 9” injects Hung from the commentary box.

“Yes but 1 less then 11” replies the copper.

“Okay, sounds a good deal to me” agrees Hung.

Hmm, would have got it cheaper at McBunurphys, thinks Granny. A day in the life…

Granny fudging oops doing the accounts

Duck McDuck

31 Wednesday Aug 2016

Posted by Mark in hph

≈ 23 Comments

Hmm, dem duck down dere…

By hph and Mark

(ring ring)
..
(ring ring)
…
(ring.. Mark answers the phone)

Mark: “Yeah who duck is this?’

Hph: “It’s me hph..”

Mark: “What the duck do you want?”

Hph: “Mark, I need your help. You gotta help me!”

Mark: “Yeah! What the duck did you do this time you duckhead?”

Hph; “Mark, I’m in the shit!”

Mark: “You’re always in shit you shithead”

Hph: “No Mark, this time I’m in the REAL shit.”

Mark: “Real or not you’re always in shit.”

Hph: “Mark listen to me… I am in a tank full of real shit”

Mark: “Get the duck outta here.”

Hph: “That’s what I’m trying to do Mark help me”

******

Duck on a stick, hmm

Duck McDuck here. These are the kinda calls wheeze get at Duck Central, day in day out.

The Mark guy is a fictitious being somehow connected to Gordon, the creator of the Universe.

Me, I believe in jack shit so Gordon sounds fine.

******

Here’s some more of the conversation,

Mark: “Yes I can help you, for sure, just sign here.”

Hph: “Hey Mark, why have you put my last name as Sauce?”

Mark: “Well, Hph, I hadda put somefink, ewe no, HPH Sauce, hmm.”

Hph: “What about Loronzo or Emmintal?”

Mark: “Oh for Gordon’s sake, lets see what happens in the next bit of the story.”

******

Yes, I’m back, Duck McDuck. So did you learn anything from that exchange? Nah, me neither.

In my role as private investigator I get to see many things. This is some of the things I had to witness,

Yes shocking I know.

Back to the interrogation,

Hph: “Well, I’d like to be called Bill Smith.”

Mark: “WFT, er TFW, nah, FWT, hang on, I’ll get it in a minute, WTF?”

Hph: “Yes, that was my uncles second cousins aunt’s maiden name, middle name Gloria but I just want to be called John Citizen.”

Mark: “Um, yes. What happened to Bill Smith?”

Hph: “Who?”

*******

Hmm. And so it goes.

Foodge Episode 70.5 Trouble in Chambers

25 Thursday Aug 2016

Posted by Mark in Big M, Foodge Private Dick

≈ 15 Comments

Foodge, Day 1

Story by Big M

Foodge felt strangely optimistic, as opposed to pensive, or a sense of ennui. For, as Emerson once stated, “Being perfectly well-dressed gives one a tranquility that no religion can bestow.” Yes, our freshly re-barred hero had bought himself a new suit, well, not just a new suit, new suits, and shoes (not brogues, proper dress shoes), and socks, and cufflinks, and handkerchiefs, and seat covers (undies) and a new black Fedora. Why, you may ask? Well our lad was looking forward to some serious coin as a lawyer, and viewed his sartorial expenses as investments, rather than mere costs.

Foodge deftly piloted his conveyance, or car, or for us at the pub, his Zephyr, around the back streets of Lewisham, and into a parking space at the back of a particularly dilapidated red brick and tile edifice. The bottom of the building housed a fruiterer, so the back stank of rotting vegetation, and fruit flies, but Foodge recognised that the offices upstairs were really the centres of action. What better place for legal chambers than being nestled in with organisations such as, Cayman Island Investments, the Lewisham Music Institute (specialising in banjo and nose flute), and the Inner Western Cyberian College, with courses on everything from acupuncture to zooanoses?

The lift was broken, and smelt like it was being used as a public

The Office

urinal. ‘No problem’, thought Foodge, as he started climbing the poorly lit stairs. His foot found something soft, that seemed to be connected with the scabbiest cat he had every seen, which simultaneously dropped it’s toxoplasmosis filled treat, screeched and fled up the stairs. Foodge remained shaken, not stirred, as he liked to say, so progressed upward. He was surprised to find the door to Number Three ajar. He was more shocked to find the scabby cat in the reception area drinking from a bowl of milk. He was even more shocked to find his former secretary, Fern, at the desk.

“Good morning, Mr Foodge.” Fern smiled although her eyes could barely conceal her hostility.

“Wha…wha…what are you doing here?” Foodge stammered, as he pushed his Fedora back from his forehead.

“It seems fat I’m your new secretary.” Fern didn’t bother to smile, this time.

“I thought you were debarred, or deregistered, or de-whatever they do to bad secretaries.”

“Nah, there’s no such fing for us secretaries.” Fern slipped some more gum between her overinflated, red lips. “Plus it’s handy for me as I’m studyin’ Beaudy Ferrapy next door.”

Foodge had the habit of handling these personal challenges in an affable manner. “Well, ‘err, perhaps you could rustle up a sign for the front door?”

“Sign writer’s coming fisarvo.” Fern was wrapping and unwrapping her fingers in her hair.

“Anything in the diary?” Foodge hoped against hope.

Fern keeps cool until…

“Yep, fere’s a feller comin’ at ten for some conveyencing, whatever the hell that is, then fere’s a bloke dropping in at eleven wiv some coffee samples, fought you’d have your normal lunch from twelve ‘til two, fen fere’s some bloke who wants to sue the council…”

“Well, ar…just a couple of points, one, I’m a barrister, not a conveyencer, so you can cancel the first chap. Two, I’m a barrister, not a barista, so the second needs to be contacted, and three, is the third chap coming here with a solicitor? Foodge removed his hat, and wiped away the rivulets of sweat, which always seemed to form on his brow when he spoke to Fern.

Fern decided to fight fire with fire, or, at least with the same tone. “One, you need to tell me these things. I don’t know what the fuck a conveyencer is. Two, my bad, I can never get the spelling right, which reminds me, I may need to fix the ad in tomorrow’s Daily…. Oh, and free, why does he need his solicitor?” Fern was pouring more milk into a plastic bowl for Scabby the cat.

“I’m a barrister, I can only work under the instructions of a solicitor, not directly from the client!!” Foodge expected his secretary to have some idea of the workings of a legal chamber.

“So, you need to have instructions on how to do your job?” Fern tossed the empty milk carton into the bin under her desk.

Just then Scabby threw up half a rat, and about a litre of semi-digested milk.

“Oh, fuck!!” Foodge slammed the door behind him.

Throw me a carton he said…

The Tale of Bunny and Lizzie

22 Monday Aug 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 13 Comments

The Tale of Bunny and Lizzie by Mark

Bunny

It was yet another glorious morning. The sun was shining, white clouds drifted above without a care in the world. Butterflies roamed the garden as bees searched for their ever desired nectar. Blue skies seemed to provide just enough sun for things to grow and so with that the cycle goes.

Oh, my names Bunny, this is my story. I’m a rabbit, yep, one of them pesky varmints however stay tuned. This is a tale about friends joining together to fight for what is a good cause

Lizzie is my friend, she is a lizard who shares our condominium other wise know as a burrow.

Me and Lizzie live down the back of a garden run by annamuls, well that’s what we call them. To make it easy, some call them mankind.

“You on the grass again?” says Lizzie

“Shit yeah. I love the smell of freshly cut grass in the morning” I reply.

“I haven’t seen a frog in a while but I can smell a slug, c’mon breakfast”

“Lizzie, do you have to be so carnivore all the time? Can’t you consider us vegetarians?”

“Nah. Slurping flies is great fun too Bunny you should try it some time. Look, Bunny wheeze is different cultures, best friends and sisters in arms, this is multifaunaism at its best.”

I don’t know about this mutlifaunaism, do I invite in a fox? Hmm, of course not but me and Lizzie do gel well.

Lizzie saunters off to digest some poor unsuspecting creature but me, no, grass and more grass is everything I want. Imagine a world on grass. Breakfast lunch and tea, just grass, grass and grass. The more grass the better I say.

Just as I was sort of getting carried away with the grass thing the birds called and me and Lizzie headed for the condo. A mankind thing was approaching. Could get scary here. Children should eat all their vegetables and go to bed etc. etc. Parental Warning advised.

The mankind thing said he was going get a gun and kill all us pests. Now, you are sitting there saying “WTF, a lizard and a rabbit understand English?”

Yes. We do. And please don’t pat a dog on it’s head, stroke it’s flanks, duh. Now, lets get down to business shall we.

Lizzie appeared from the Canteen a La Natural licking her lips in delight. Garlic she thinks, hmm, nice.

“Wheel get our own guns” says Lizzie “shoot the bastards”

Well, I say “How?”

“Wheel steel the mankind things car and go and buy some guns on pay wave. The annamul always leaves the keys in the starter. I saw all this when I was getting some sun and watching it through a window on TV. I’m an expert then so I’ll do the pedals, you just do the steering, okay Bunny, you got it?”

Lizzie

“For Gord’s sake Lizzie, since when aren’t you in the sun? You’re a freaking lizard. I just want grass, you better be an expect mate, all that grass, so little time. Well I suppose that this is one small step for rabbit but one giant leap for rabbit kind”

“Reverse clutch start down the drive way, chuck a sharp left, no right, 90 degrees, in 1.256 nanoseconds, just kidding, okay, feeling good?” stirs Lizzie.

The car starts just as Lizzie said and we steered it down the street to buy guns until this happened,

“Hey Bunny go through the drive through at McFrogs”

“Shit Lizzie, I’m a vego”

“You can get vego food at McFrogs and the Flies are great”

I drive into the drive through lane as Lizzie manipulates the pedals so I get to the speaker,

“Hello, this is Mc Frogs, would you like to place your order?” says the bot.

McFrogs

Now you could say, no, I’m just standing here, simple resolve.

“Wheel have a double McFrogs large with Flies and a cesspit slushie and I’ll have a grass salad sandwich hold the onion, with a mineral water.”

“Any desserts with that order, we got Chocolate Mouse on special”

“Er, yuk, just one thanks”

Pay wave we go and off to the gun shop and order two AK 47’s for our dads and we take them home for them, aren’t we good?

We dig in in the back yard. This is serious now. The mankind things start firing, so we fire back, bang,bang, boom , boom, or sorry, forgot to mention that we got some rocket launchers as well, ka bang bam just like on Batman till bam, Lizzie gets hit.

“Lizzie, I hope you have on clean underwear, you have to go to hospital”

“I ain’t coming back Bunny, says in the script, unless everyone has a woe is me moment. I’ve been semi- fatally wounded and am unable to come back unless Mark says so and you know how unpredictable that can be(cough, cough)”

“Eyes can’t see Mark agreeing to that or anything really. Okay then, bye my friend.”

*************

The kookaburras sing. The first light is about to happen. I wake and see Lizzie just about to leave the apartment.

“Lizzie, I thought…”

“A dream my friend, get off that grass…”

************

I thought he said boost hits…

Foodge Episode 70.25 Follies for real

15 Monday Aug 2016

Posted by Mark in Big M, Foodge Private Dick

≈ 13 Comments

Foodge prepares for work…

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!

Foodge enters the bar…

Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

~ The Home Pub of the Famous Pink Drinks and Trotter's Ale

Author Archives: Mark

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