Category Archives: Mark

The Trial

17 Monday Apr 2023

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, ,

Image created by Dalle – E

Story by some bloke on a laptop, i.e. Mark

So today is the day when the trial begins, to see if God really exist? Alternatively, we can also ask is Satan real? Does anybody care? Well, I don’t. And I’m the author.

Foodge was sitting in the foyer. Glancing around at the crowd, pondering. Why are people coming here to see this particular trial?

Foodge started to feel for his hip flask. Then it occurred to him it was probably in his hip pocket. But it wasn’t. It was in his inside suit pocket. So he’s wondering, why don’t they call that an inside suit pocket flask? He took a surreptitious slurp. Just a steady the nerves, you know, he thought to himself. Keeping in mind that he didn’t want to use too many inverted commas.

Out of thin air, God appears. This doesn’t phase Foodge anymore. He’s seen it so many times with Gordon. You know, Gordon, the creator of the universe.

“How you doing?” God says.

“I’ve submitted our deposition and some good character statements from Mother Mary McKillop and Pope John Paul. How are Jesus and Ha… “

“Let’s be kind to them Foodge, and not go there.”

People enter the courtroom and take up their positions. The judge enters the Chamber. Everyone nods to the crown. The judge introduces himself as Lord Bored. At least we can see here that we have another campaigner against inverted commas. And look, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against inverted commas. Well, sort of.

“The case has come to the Small Claims Tribunal because the plaintiff is actually only asking for $1. So I want to remind you all that in this court, it’s my decision as the judge as to what actually happens. Now there are appellant courts that you can go to, but you won’t succeed. Let’s just be honest.” Crikey, a judge being honest.

“Each legal representative has deposited statements, references and the initial newspaper article in the Inner Cyberian Tribune. Representing God is Mr Foodge, and representing Satan is Mr Clancy Fancy-Pants. You are hereby right now told to stay quiet. I will now direct the Court in this process of legal defamation.” Foodge and Fancy-Pants look at each other with a distinct sense of amazement.

“But,” says Foodge and Fancy-Pants, “My Lord, surely, Hank… Jesus…”

“Stick with me and I must remind you that you have both just wasted some inverted commas. I will take that into consideration at the end of the trial” says Lord Bored, oblivious to the fact he has just used some inverted commas.

“So in my role is the overriding judge. I now call God to the witness box.”

The clerk approaches, “God, please place your hand on this book and tell us that you will tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help you, Gordon.” God looks at the book. And it’s Gordon’s book “Good Luck with That” that he’s now promoting. By the way, it is on sale at all good bookstores. “I do,” says God.

Judge Bored now gets into interrogation mode. “So God. How old are you?”

“I have no idea.”

“Where do you live?”

“ Above the clouds”.

“What’s your mum and dad’s name?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Thank you. You may now be seated.” Crikey, how many inverted fucking commas was that.

Satan is sent into the witness box.

The clerk approaches, “Satan, please place your hand on this book and tell us that you will tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help you, Gordon.” Satan looks at the book. And it’s Gordon’s book “Good Luck with That” that he’s now promoting. By the way, it is on sale at all good bookstores. “I do,” says Satan.

Judge Bored now gets into interrogation mode. “So Satan. How old are you?

“I have no idea.”

“Where do you live?” “In a hole in the ground.” “ What’s your mum and dad’s name?” “ Oh, I don’t know.”

“Thank you.”

Wow. Lots of inverted commas and so far no Jesus and Han…

Judge Bored retires to the inner chamber to think about his decision. He later returns.

“OK, so this is my decision. God or Satan. No one has ever been able to prove either of you actually is real, whilst you’re deeply rooted in mythology your actual existence is factually, debatable.

Evidence is that neither of you exists and therefore is non-existent. Under section 37 of the Defamation and Other Evil Little Acts 1937, it says that unless you can prove that you are real, then you don’t actually have a case of defamation. I have decided to rule that this is a null and void case.

We’re facing a paradox. God and Satan cannot be proven to exist. But without each other, neither exists. There is a symbiotic relationship between these two that cannot be proved in this court. You cannot have God and deny Satan, and conversely, you cannot have Satan and deny God. The ultimate proof is unavailable or inconsistent or non-existent, therefore nobody now owes anybody anything. and the case is now over.”

Foodge is reflective outside the court. The decision was actually, very powerful. God decided that he was gonna pay Foodge anyway, but the money wasn’t important. It was the outcome. Good versus evil, God versus Satan. Manly versus anybody else. So it was just a really important case.

Gordon arrives at the court. Everybody else is gone, but Gordon goes up the Foodge and says, “Hey, Foodge, look, here’s my new book, “Good Luck with That”. It’s a book about space travel. And how incredibly boring that actually really is. Anyway, Emmjay has given me a lend of the Zephyr so let’s go to the Pigs Arms for a few post games ale. So how’s Hank Williams going?”

The plot thickens – just like cheese sauce

10 Monday Apr 2023

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

, ,

Not wanting to upset the court or AAP here is an artist’s impression of Foodge and God entering the court.

Merv leans into the bar. He’s got his elbows on the bar holding his head up and he’s in deep thought. He’s quite concerned about recent incidents. And he’s starting to wonder, what is this really all about? Let’s just say that God may be fictitious, and this character that’s turned up on the doorstep might be fictional just like he is. He doesn’t know but thinks that he is acutely aware of the fact that he wants to save on inverted commas, sometimes it’s better to be fictitious and save on inverted commas than to be real because then you don’t have to face all of those really serious problems like saving on inverted commas or eating, drinking, sleeping and overall reducing the number of inverted commas to help save the planet. Have you all got the inverted commas message yet?

Foodge stumbles into the bar and sits at the far end wanting to stay out of popular view and signals to Merv for his usual pint and 13 nips of whisky. Yes, South Seas Island Blue, a man of real class.

The bar is pretty quiet now, so Merv moves over and fills Foodge’s order.

“Hi Foodge,” says Merv blatantly wasting inverted commas. “I think we’re in for a bit of a tussle here. I mean, what if God is fictitious? And how are we going to prove that he’s real? This could be the trial of the century.”

Foodge ponders what has been said. This trial could be totally catastrophic. However, if he wins, he would become an international superstar of the legal fraternity. Tempting, hmm. I guess it all boils down to the fact that is God real?

So the question is, is God real? And is he more real than us? Characters in a fictional story posted on the internet web page, the Pigs Arms, are a poor guide as some are real and some are fictitious. Maybe God is a member of the fictional characters Union. You know the F*** you. Satan says God isn’t real. That argument needs to be tested in the highest court of law. The Small Claims Tribunal.

[Mark here, the author, thanks, Foodge, for doing an excellent job of thinking rather than speaking, which is a significant saving on inverted commas.]

Merv is concerned at the moment because he’s not sure what’s going to happen. He tells Foodge. “You know, I looked up is God real on A Eye? You know the television set with the typewriter at the bottom. I asked it if God was real. Anyway, it spits out about 27 pages worth of information, so I had to stop it and ask again and say can you give me a brief statement as to whether God is real?

After a while, it came back and said no, God isn’t real. Then about 10 seconds later it come back and said, oh hang on, I’ve had a bit more of a think about it and my new answer is probably not. So I then asked A Eye is Satan real? The answer came back 10 seconds later as, see the answer to God.”

Foodge ponders this news. So some piece of electronics thinks that neither God nor Satan are actually real. Foodge needs to figure out why. How can he win this case? God being real has become irrelevant. Foodge just wants to win. And if Satan is real, he could give a s***.

God comes into the bar and Foodge beckons him over to a table so that they can have a meal together. Belinda brings out some wombat stew with dumplings and a nice bottle of wine. Foodge says. “Look, so that I can get the information that I need, I’m going to put on a tape recorder so that later I can make notes. . Is that OK with you?”

“Go ahead,” says God not realising the need to cut down on inverted commas.

“Look, so are you real?” says Foodge with inverted commas flying everywhere. I mean, doesn’t he believe in climate change. The climate is changing primarily due to the overuse of inverted commas. When will the penny drop, FFS.

God answers definitively. “Of course I’m real. But what’s worrying me at the moment is that we haven’t mentioned Hank Williams.”

“Who?” says Foodge?

“Hank Williams. Yes, Hank Williams. Look, there it goes again, Hank Williams.

“Thankfully, no one said Jesus”, says Foodge. Frugal use of inverted commas has gone out the window.

“Jesus, there it goes again. Jesus. I mean Jesus. How many times are we gonna say, Jesus?” Six lines and we got in 4 Hank Williams and 5 Jesus. Hank Williams and Jesus have nothing to do with the story but hey, we have mentioned Hank Williams and Jesus quite a lot; amazing.

“So God, there’s not a lot of evidence that says that you’re actually real. However, there’s a lot of evidence that says that people believe that you are real. So proving this at the Small Claims Tribunal might be difficult.”

“Well, I’m real,” says God “and am paying you several fivers to prove that I am so that I can win the defamation case against Satan.”

“OK, OK, keep your long hair and your sandals on. I’ll prepare a brief for the court that will stake out the claim and we should win. Look, just a question, Satan says to wait until God pulls the horse race trick. Can you explain what happened here yesterday?”

“Foodge, you never explain all of your secrets do you, I mean you are an excellent bullshit artist, aren’t you? Do you expose everything?”

One of the first times Foodge was unable to answer.

There’s a Stranger at the Bar

04 Tuesday Apr 2023

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

, ,

God presents in many forms. This may or may not be one of them.

Merv was standing behind the bar. He looked immaculate in his beautiful white shirt and black trousers and polished black shoes. He looked up and noticed a stranger walking into the bar.

Merv said. “Hey mate. Would you like a beer?”

The stranger looked at Merv and said. “You know. The main reason I’m here on Earth is to drink beer.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place”, says Merv. “The Pigs Arms has the best beer on Earth. But we don’t play Hank Williams.”

“I’ll have Trotter’s Ale”, says the stranger and he is privately relieved that there are no Hank Williams tunes going to be played.

The stranger goes to pay for the beer. Merv tells the stranger that no one pays here at the Pigs Arms. It’s all paid for by Gordon, the creator of the universe.

“So what’s your name, mate?” asks Merv.

“Well, most people call me God but I prefer mate.”

Merv is Shocked. Shocked, I tell ya. Thinking to himself, not another one of these fruitcakes that think they’re actually God but actually hates Hank Williams. “So, what sort of God are you?” Merv asks.

“Well”, says the stranger. “I guess you could call me the common garden variety type God.”

Merv is in a quandary. We already have Gordon. Who created the universe. Now we have a stranger in the pub that’s telling us that he is God however, thankfully he doesn’t like Hank Williams.

“So God, did you create the universe Or did Gordon? “

“Well, think of it like this, Gordon created this universe,” said God. “But I created Gordon.”

“So God, just to clarify the issue, who created you? “

“Me, mum and Dad,” says God.

Well, Merv doesn’t know what to do now. He’s in a real state. Fancy someone saying that they created Gordon after all this time? When everybody here knew that Gordon was the creator of the universe yet he hates Hank Williams.

Merv attempts to break the ice. “So God, what actually brings you to these parts anyway, besides the beer?”

“Well. Now you asked. I’m actually looking for a sharp barrister to present me in the Supreme Court in a defamation case against Satan”

Merv ponders the statement. “Well, God, we do have a barrister here by the name of Foodge”

Foodge is sitting at the other side of the bar with a pint and 13 shots of whisky in front of him while studying the racing guide.

Merv walks over to Foodge. “Hey, Foodge, That guy over there says he’s God and, thankfully hates Hank Williams, says he wants you to represent him in the Supreme Court.”

“Tell him to f*** o**” says Foodge. Feel free to count the asterisks.

“He says there’s a fiver in it, mate.”

Suddenly, Foodge takes an interest, a fiver. Well, maybe we can even negotiate a bigger fee. Foodge understands that a fiver could be really helpful at this point in time. I mean, he’s only got 13 scotches left, but with a fiver, he could probably buy a few more. Well, let’s see what happens.

“OK then,” says Foodge. “that’s alright with me as long as isn’t fine defaulters. “Is he a shirt lifter? asks Foodge.

“Nah,” says Merv “just a control freak.”

Foodge walks over to God and introduces himself. “The name is Foodge. Highly qualified barrister at law. More than happy to represent you in the court but please, no Hank Williams” Foodge cuts straight to the chase. “I believe there might be a fiver in it for me.”

“Several fivers,” replies God. Foodge is becoming more and more interesting in this case as it goes along, and he doesn’t even know yet what it’s about, but he doesn’t care as long as there are some fivers in it for him.

“So what’s the issue?” Says Foodge He personally couldn’t give a s**t. He was just in for the fivers and no Hank Williams. Basically just like all barristers.

“Satan. Well, Satan. says I’m not real, yet here I am, standing in front of you, living proof. Here’s an article from the Inner Cyberian Times that shows just exactly what he said about me” replies God.

Foodge studies the article. He skips through it with little interest. The case itself couldn’t care less. Just wants the money. Just like all barristers that don’t like Hank Williams, well, sort of.

“So how can we tell that you really are God?” asks Foodge.

God looks over to where Foodge was sitting at the bar and sees a racing guide. He points at the guide and makes it come to him just like magic. He scrolls through the list of races. And says. OK. It’s the 5th day of the 5th month. Race 5 Number 5. Race time is 5pm. Is paying $55. I’ll guarantee it will win.

God asks Merv. “Do you have a phone around here? I need to make a quick phone call..’ Merv points to the mobile phone in the carpark for the public.

It wins. The patrons are ecstatic. Everyone has lots of cash in their pockets. God is real. Three cheers for God. Hip hip Hooray, Hip hip, Hooray. Hip, hip, Hooray.

This is the phone booth God used

Some authors notes, This has taken me a long time to write. I’m not sure if it’s really funny but I hope you like it. My aim with all of my stories was to give the reader a 10 minute break from life to have some fun. The horse race gag is about the phone number 555-5555, When I was a kid and watched TV shows, the prefix phone number always started with 555. Algernon and I have joked about it since. Me, now traveling the best I have ever been in 20 years. Anyone that has taken offence at me in the past, I’m sorry. I now have great mental health. The correct diagnosis and medication has turned my life around. I will have at least 2 more episodes coming. Hope you read and enjoy them all. Even I am amazed at the outcome following my research.

Sandy goes Robotic

30 Monday Jan 2023

Posted by in Mark

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

,

Me, the brain the size of a planet…

Okay. So I have had this plot running through my head for a while however I am going through writer’s block again, so I asked Chatbot to write a short story given this framework. I asked it to write a short humorous story with less than 1500 words.

Okay. There is a guy sipping beers in a pub, the Pigs Arms. His name is Sandy. Sandy is feeling reflective about life when another man called Gordon approaches him to state that the toilet is broken. The barman is Merv. Merv cannot find a toilet fixer in the phone book, so they decide to form a committee. The committee recommends a Royal Commission. The Royal Commission concludes that they need a plumber. The time frame is around 2 years.

This is the result.

Sandy was sitting in the Pigs Arms pub, sipping on a cold beer and feeling a little bit reflective about life. He was pondering the choices he had made and the paths that he had taken.

Just as he was getting lost in thought, a man approached him and interrupted his solitude. The man introduced himself as Gordon and stated that there was a problem with the toilet in the pub.

Sandy was momentarily taken aback. He had never considered the possibility that the toilet in the pub could be broken. He looked around the bar and saw that no one else seemed to be too concerned, so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He walked over to the barman, Merv, and asked if there was anything that could be done about the broken toilet. Merv looked at Sandy as if he were crazy and explained that he couldn’t just wave a magic wand and make the toilet work again.

Sandy suggested that they form a committee to address the problem, and Merv reluctantly agreed. They gathered a group of patrons from the bar and formed a committee to discuss the best course of action.

After much discussion, the committee came to the conclusion that a Royal Commission was needed to address the broken toilet issue. Merv was skeptical, but the rest of the patrons seemed to think it was a good idea, so he agreed.

The Royal Commission was formed and meetings were held on a weekly basis to discuss the progress of the investigation. After several months of meetings, the Commission finally came to a conclusion: they needed to find a plumber.

Merv tried to find a plumber in the phone book but to no avail. He tried searching online, but all of the plumbers seemed to be fully booked. The Commission was at a loss.

Just when they thought all hope was lost, a plumber walked into the pub and offered his services. He had heard about the Royal Commission and wanted to help.

The plumber fixed the toilet in a matter of minutes, and everyone in the pub was overjoyed. Merv breathed a sigh of relief and Sandy felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

The Commission disbanded, and everyone went back to their regular lives. Sandy continued to sip on his beer, but now he was feeling a little bit more content with life. He had been part of something bigger than himself, and it felt good.

Two years later, Sandy was back in the Pigs Arms, sipping on a beer and feeling reflective once again. He looked around the bar and saw that the toilet was still working, and he couldn’t help but smile. He had been part of a team that had solved a problem and brought happiness to the community. And that was a feeling that he would never forget.

Thoughts?

B Camel Sauce

13 Saturday Aug 2022

Posted by in Mark

≈ 5 Comments

This is an A Camel. Please don’t mix the two together.

B Camel Sauce. By Mark.

Now I know you are totally fascinated at this stage about B Camel sauce. Well, let me un-fascinate you. This post has 660 words and takes 3 minutes to read. It’s actually Bechamel sauce but our family joke was to refer to it as B Camel sauce. I found this in a Greek cookbook eons ago and have followed it ever since.

This is an incredibly simple way to make a white or cheese sauce that can be used in a myriad of recipes, tuna bake, potato bake, lasagne, etc.

The sauce can be flavoured but let’s do that at the end. The simple rule is the number two.

Ingredients.

Oil

Flour

Milk

Cheese

Method.

In a saucepan(can you see where this is heading) add two tablespoons of oil. Now I use olive as that was my mum’s name, but you use whatever you like. Olive oil adds to the flavour as I rarely add seasoning. Salt is bad for your heart whereas cracked pepper will give you lots of small black dots in the finished product.

Now add two tablespoons of flour. Any kind, plain, self-raising, just flour.

Get a wooden spoon and blend together the oil and flour. On low heat watch the reaction in the saucepan till you see the mix, which is referred to as a roux, bubble. Cook for two minutes constantly stirring. Don’t let it brown. If you do, throw it out and start again.

After two minutes add two cups of milk, of any kind. The first will sizzle a bit so give it a good stir and then add the second cup. Keep the heat low. This is crucial to the final sauce.

Keep stirring the sauce. Don’t let it get too hot. When it starts to thicken, add two handfuls of grated cheese.

After you add the cheese, turn the heat off. However, you still will need to keep stirring the sauce as you need to reduce the heat in the sauce. Can take ten minutes or more. If you let it overheat, the sauce will “crust” on the bottom of the pan and will affect the final outcome.

Cool. Cool man. No, not really, just let the sauce cool before you transfer it to the next stage. Reason: You need to know what level of the thickness(hydration) of your sauce became. Too thin, needs a longer cooking time in the end product, i.e., evaporation. Too thick, add more milk or cream to get to your desired goal. Now when adding liquid to anything, do it in small steps, slowly. Reducing liquid in a sauce is at best painful and takes a long time. Food technology states that 80% of the fluid in a meal evaporates after 20% of the cooking time. The last 20% takes 80% of the cooking time. Tomatoes are the best example.

I use little seasoning but use the natural flavours of the oil and cheese to get it a good taste. That for me means, good olive oil and extra tasty cheese.

Okay, so this is how I use it.

Tuna casserole: Pasta al dente, with sauteed garlic, shallot, and corn, then tinned tuna. Mix with B Camel sauce, and bake with topped cheese, breadcrumbs and butter.

Potato bake: Sliced spuds, B camel sauce, bake or microwave.

Lasange: Follow any recipe on the planet. A white/cheese sauce is needed.

Eggplant Parmigiana: Sautee eggplant. Top with a tomato sauce, B Camel sauce and extra grated cheese. Bake. I make my tomato sauce like this, saute shallots, and garlic in a little butter, on low heat. Add tomatoes and then tomato paste. Let it reduce then add a dash of red wine and some chopped anchovies. Mix in the pan. You want it spreadable. Season with cracked black pepper.

These are just my ideas. Use how you like but remember the formula, 2 tbs oil, 2 tbs flour, fry for 2 minutes, 2 cups of milk, 2 handfuls of cheese. The start to finish time is around 15 to 20 minutes. Keep stirring pretty well all the time and never let the sauce get too hot. Keep the heat on low. Enjoy.

Neil Young – On the Beach plus.

05 Friday Aug 2022

Posted by in Bands at the Pig's Arms, Mark

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

,

Hey, me here, you know that bloke that fades in and out like a late-night radio broadcast. Anyway, I need to make a confession. Yes, I,m a sinner, oops, no, I ended up joining facebook after years of pressure from my family. See, they wanted me to see photos of their meals and their trips to the Snowy. Personally, I cared little, so I actually linked a few Pigs Arms articles to FB and got 2 likes. My nephew thinks Foodge and Father O’Way are hysterical and a total stranger liked it with a thumbs up. My nephew who has a PhD in neuroscience has to explain Foodge and FOW to his parents. This tells me a lot about Darwinism.

Now, I fucking hate this new text editor from WordPress. WordPress is the engine that runs the Pigs Arms website. The new editor wants you to be a coding guru, which funnily enough, I used t write computer programs. Now, I hate it. If you are familiar with drag and drop, well, that’s where I’m at. The little side pictures and wrapped text are a thing of the past. I’m sure it’s achievable but I can’t be bothered achieving it. You know the old saying, lots of effort for very little outcome.

On to Neil Young. Boy, do I have some mixed feelings. Visit this web page for lots of great articles about 60’s, 70’s music, and beyond. Neil Sambrook has a great skill at filling in some gaps in, well my, music knowledge. Neil is a fantastic music journalist.

SAMTIMONIOUS.com

Now, my favourite Neil Young album is “After the Gold Rush”. Mainly because of circumstances. I originally was exposed to “Harvest” and CSNY thanks to my big brother. I loved Harvest however over time I loved Gold Rush better. In Neils’s article here, he rates “On the Beach” as better”, If you choose, feel free to let me know. I respect all of your opinions.

On the Beach.
After the Goldrush
Harvest
Harvest Moon

Listen to them if you want. It’s up to you. These are my favourite Neil Young albums. The rest, well, I can give or take.’

Signing off as Mark, Sandy, Hoo, Father O’Way, Gorden O’Donnell, Merv. Mervette and so on. Enjoy. 🙂

Foodge Escapes from Buntings

03 Thursday Jun 2021

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

You know, if they told me I was going to appear so much I would have charged more…

Foodge Escapes from Buntings

Written by Mark

Foodge was sitting in the foyer of the court house rolling a durry, well with tobacco and some other funny green stuff. O’Hoo was busy talking to some official over at the counter. Foodge was in deep thought mode, why am I here, why was I born, what is my first name and you know all those things that race through you mind in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.

“O’Hoo, hoo were you talking two” speaking phonetically so O’Hoo wouldn’t understand, asks Foodge as he deeply inhales on his durry.

“Clark, I think his name was, no Clark Cell, a standard primary cell producing 1.4328 volts at 15 degrees C which consists of a mercury cathode and a zinc amalgam anode both dipping into a saturated solution of zinc sulphate” says O’Hoo.

Oh fuck off thinks Foodge. Never ask a simpleton a question that you don’t know the answer too. “Anyway pass us the scotch”. Foodge is discombobulated now(thanks Gerard, my spell checker doesn’t know it still, after all this time).

Come here lad, have a whiskey…

“Where’s the press throng?” asks Foodge as he inhales deeply on his durry. Oh yes, South Sea Islands Scotch sure does taste good in the morning.

O’Hoo runs out of the foyer onto the front steps of the court house and spy’s a group of school kids passing by on an excursion or just running away from their teachers. O’Hoo approaches them and says “Look kids, I understand that this is a kid friendly web page but can you pretend to be from the media, you know asking questions, pointing microphones and taking pictures when my mate come out from the court?”

“Um, yeah, um, yeah, okay mate! Wot’s in it for us?” says a little smart arse in the front row.

“Sausage sizzle, with fried onions and tomato sauce, all round at Buntings, oh on white bread, nothing healthy” blurts O’Hoo relating to the inner psyche of the modern generation.

“Yep, wheeze in” says the smart arse.

Foodge stumbles out of the court to face the “media throng”.

“Mr Foodge, what have you got to say about the court case?” says the smart arse kid who is getting way too much media attention.

“Well” replies Foodge “ I can’t say anything while the case is in front of the court”

“Well that’s only literally, not metaphorically”. The smart arse kid is really stating to grate and you can fucking well spell that how you want to and I’m the author.

“No more comments from me except to say the chicken schnitzel on Monday night with mushroom gravy is to die for.”

Hmm, Tastes like chicken…

O’Hoo pulls up in the Zephyr. “You drive Foodge. We are being followed. I’ve read the script”

“But I’m pissed and stoned”

“Doesn’t matter we’re fictional and anyway Gordon will get us off any charges.”

Foodge accerlates the Zephyr down the boulevard. O’Hoo jumps into the back seat and smashes out the back window.

“Why did you do that for? Emmjay will be really pissed that we went over budget.”

“I’ll get a better shot this way. Keep speeding, we are being followed by the FBI, the CIA, ASIO and worst of all the CWA” cried O’Hoo as he lets fly a few salvo’s out of the recently renovated rear window.

Foodge dodges and swerves through the back streets of Inner Cyberia as O’Hoo fires indiscriminately out the back window, trying to take care to hit any one at any time.

The FBI and ASIO cars go down when the CIA call O’Hoo on a two way radio that he didn’t know he was carrying up until now.

“Wheeze hungry” says the CIA goon.

Stop, I’m from the CIA, no the CIB, no the CIC, no the CID…

“Take the next left and into the McJacks drive through” says O’Hoo thinking he should have added and extra T and said thought. So many questions so little time.

Everyone is going through the drive through, try saying that after a few drinks but the CWA ladies want a Fillet-O-Fish so wheeze is all held up. Wears the pleece when yous want them. Don’t you just love phonetics.

The race continues but O’Hoo is a bit too sharp for his opposition and quickly takes out the CIA car as they munch on their McJacks. The CWA are a different story. O’Hoo fires another round of high powered tracer bullets into their car from loaded magazines thanks to granny, an eternal pacifist. Don’t you love her. Peace man.

O’Hoo and Foodge drive into the car park at the Pigs Arms with the Zephyr looking in bad shape with bullet holes and smashed windows, however Foodge won’t budge until he has finished his Big McWhopper, fries and slushie. “Let’s get the fuck out of here” screams O’Hoo as he finishes his chicken burger and Coke drink.

Apparently it’s a restaurant

Foodge and O’Hoo run into the bar avoiding eye contact with Emmjay. Big M and Algernon cock there weapons and the three sisters, Yvonne, Barbara and Shoe just keep studying the form guide, totally disinterested in the shenanigans. The CWA drive straight through the front doors and get out of their car opening fire with their weapons. Big M, Algernon and O’Hoo return fire and bullets are flying everywhere.

Meanwhile back in the kitchen granny is really peeved. Emmjay walks through the fire fight into the kitchen and says to granny “Lets have a bake off so we can stop this madness.”

Granny walks into the bar and yells “Stop. Stop now.” Funnily enough everyone stops. “Lets have a scone bake off to sort this out.”

All the cooks head out to the kitchen and start cooking. Scones, cream and jam are served to everyone. Hmm, all taste great. Granny says “Well, what was this agro all about?”

“Dunno” says the lady from the CWA.

“Baby, what baby” cries Foodge.

Foodge versus Buntings

24 Saturday Apr 2021

Posted by in Foodge Private Dick, Mark

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Foodge and whiskey go hand in hand…

Written by Mark

Foodge was feeling pensive, no apprehensive, no nervous and a little ill as he had just taken a long swig from a pocket flask with South Seas Blue Label scotch that O’Hoo just happened to have in his jacket pocket. This was his day in court after being kicked out of Buntings for wearing his pant bulger.

“I rang the clerk of the court last night to find out who the Judge is” says O’Hoo “ It’s genitalia”

“Genitalia is your private parts, you know your dingle dongle” replies Foodge.

“Here look, I writ in down”

“That’s Jenny Taylor not genitalia. You have a one track mind O’Hoo and Judge Jenny has her own television show, you know, on one of those channels that no one watches.”

“Here, drink this” as O’Hoo passes the flask as he steers the Zephyr down the main boulevard to the court house “and granny has put a couple of semi-automatic rifles plus extra ammo in the back seat just in case we need a fast get away. Isn’t she a sweetie.”

Hmm, thinks Foodge, neatly doing away with the need for apostrophes saving the author extra typing. What have I got myself into. Well if anything at least it makes a good story. Gee this South Seas Island Blue Label tastes great as the scotch kicks in.

“Park here” cries Foodge.

“It says no parking and we wouldn’t want to encourage kiddies to break the law now would we.” replies O’Hoo desperate to get more screen time.

Hmm, thinks Foodge, since when has O’Hoo developed a conscience. At least Judge Jenny will give us a fair trial and with the extra whiskey Foodge’s confidence is growing.

Judge Jenny addresses the court “Ladies and Gentleman we are gathered here today to join this loving couple in matrimony, oops, that was the last case, anyway we are gathered here today to hear the case of Foodge versus Buntings for personal and professional damages. Mr Foodge a poor downtrodden man who not only has lifted himself off the floor of the Pigs Arms to prop up the baa to being appointed to the baa of the legal profession. Versus Buntings, a mutlibillion dollar international conglomerate that steps on anyone to get their own way. The poor downtrodden Mr Foodge is naturally representing himself and for Buntings Mr Blah Blah.” The groans are palpable, this guy can talk under water with a mouth full of pebbles.

Mr Blah Blah kicks off “Well ma’am, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. I refer you to your book of documents ma’am 1 A, B and C. A being the story written by Big M with B and C being statements from the sales attendants. We plead not guilty.”

Foodge gets thrown out of Buntings https://pigsarms.com.au/2021/03/31/foodge-gets-thrown-out-of-buntings/

Foodge replies “No dispute from me ma’am however I do have a witness who was standing behind me in the queue. I call Private Road.”

Private Road takes the stand and swears and oath “I swear to tell the whole truth nothing but truth so help me Gordon O’Donnell, oh and maybe a few porkies, just kidding.”

Judge Jenny points the pointer, now now…

Judge Jenny intervenes “Are you in the Army?”

“No ma’am”

“So what is your first name?”

“Well it’s private ma’am”

Hmm, thinks Judge Jenny “Well yes when my husband and I go for a weekend drive in the country we can see you are very popular.”

“Ma’am, I would like to question my witness, with you leave.” interjects Foodge as he senses this episode is getting away from him. “Can you tell the court what you witnessed on that day being the 31st June 1904?”

“Well yes. Big M’s story and the attendant statements are all true however Mr Foodge here wasn’t doing anything wrong, he simply had his pant bulger in place. I was standing behind him with two of the same. You see ma’am I have Micropenile encephalopathy, colloquially called small dick brain however the medical fraternity refer to it as MP’s. I had two pant bulgers in my hand when security guards pounced on Mr Foodge and threw him out and he didn’t even get a sausage from the sausage sizzle.”

“Yes well, Mr Foodge, what are you seeking in damages?” asks Judge Jenny.

“Well ma’am ten million Inner Cyberia Dollars and free sausage sizzle on white bread with onions and tomato sauce for the rest of my days.” replies Foodge.

“Order granted, case upheld. All damages accepted. Court costs to be paid by Buntings seeing you sell pant bulgers. Just one last question Mr Foodge, what does a pant bulger do?”

“Well it makes you appear more attractive to the opposite sex, not that I would ever tell granny that, by giving the impression that you are well endowed ma’am.”

The packed gallery went wild.

Hooray yippee, the excitement is overwhelming

Mrs O’Way is Aggro

30 Tuesday Mar 2021

Posted by in Mark

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Mrs O’Way, the most beautiful girl in the universe

“I’ve had enough of this shit” roars Mrs O’Way, whose first name is Belinda by the way. Belinda is the the little sister of Glenda from Glenda’s Pain and Torture Clinic, just down the road and around the corner from the Pigs Arms. “The Fictional Characters Union has just amalgamated with the Characters Fictional Union to become the FUCU(Fictional Union of Characters United) and we’ve become the laughing stock as now everyone is referring to us as fuck you.”

“Merv, pour me a double South Sea Island Blue Label and are you fictional or real?” she demands.

“I think I’m real, no hang on a minute, that’s right I’m fictional but a union member of FUCU” replies Merv.

“So fuck you” says Mrs O’Way.

The rest is real or maybe…

“ Hello, look author here. I’m not into this swearing stuff so please close your eyes when you are reading some rude words. Anyway kiddies may be watching.” says Mark from the commentary box.

“So hands up, who here is real?” demands Mrs O’Way. A limp response is recorded. “What about fictional?” same sort of reply.

“Are there any cats here we can shoot?” asks Algernon.

“Hope so” replies Big M. “Anyone seen Mother O’Way?”

“STFU Big, do you want Gordon to zap our brains out?” cries Algernon.

“What brains would that be?” Big M replies. Good point thinks Algernon.

“Look I used to be real till I came across the Pigs Arms” says Sister Yvonne.

#Metoo say the girls, oh boy, I can see a movement happening.

“Now, now, lets just all keep this in Perspex” says janowrite out of left field.

“Drinks on the house” says Merv trying to avoid a disaster, “did you mean perspective jano?”

“Probably but a South Seas Blue Label will do me” janowrite struggles at this point to attempt to see what’s happening in this story but you are in it now, bad stinking luck, just ask Sister Yvonne.

“Where’s my Sandy” cries Mrs O’Way, oops I mean Belinda.

“Well sorry love but he’s down at the dress shop”

“You’re not allowed to say that Merv otherwise Gordon will zap our brains out, hey there’s a cat” says Algernon in a timely fashion as only he can do.

Big M and Algernon open fire with their shotguns and unfortunately after open heart surgery the cat dies. Snigger, snigger. Oh well, that’s how it goes, snigger, snigger.

Mrs O’Way, oops, sorry, Belinda, belts the boys around the head with an umbrella.

“Where did that come from Belinda?”

“Out of the props section, they have lots of things in there, even dildos”

“Yeah I can see a #catkiller movement starting as well, lucky I’m smart” says someone unnamed form the FUCU. Is that you Hung?

“Not me, I’d never say something rude or smart, I’m a nurse you know and us nurses never are rude or swear or are smart aren’t we.”

Trust me, I’m a nurse, my name is Mark…