Foodge and Merv

Foodge was looking pensive, no worried, no pensive. Hang on, make your effing mind up and decide. Is Foodge pensive or worried? Who are you? Me? Yes you? Dunno, anyway pensive Foodge was worried about Merv. Ewe no, if I can keep this up, I can see that pensive may take over from ennui or even worse, yo.

Ever since Merv got his mobile phone all he does is walk around all day with his head down, looking at the phone. It seemed so incredibly marvelous that he devoted all of his time to his new toy.

“What’s the time?” says Foodge, hoping for some sort of reasonable answer.

“Dunno” replies Merv.

“What about your fancy purse carrying nancy boy toy Merv?” retorts Foodge.

“Piss off dick, get it, dick, Foodge the private dick, ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah” Merv says politely.

“Wot’s all this about?” spurts Sister Yvonne.

“Well, Merv has this new modern contraption called a mobile phone and he cannot take his eyes off it to save his life” informs Foodge.

Sister Yvonne grabs Merv’s phone.

“Merv, this isn’t even turned on you bozo, what the are you looking at?”

“Well look at this.” Merv shows Sister Yvonne a reflection of himself in the screen area of his phone.

“Well get my donkey, have you been whisking the primate?” interjects Nurse Barbara as she chews on barbecued goat’s testicles on a stick, downs a pint and sucks a fag, yes, everyone, this is what multi-tasking is really all about.

“Ask Gib W to fix it, he nose dem fings” says Angler, fresh from holidays, tanned and relaxed although a little bit windy, maybe one to many tacos perhaps, or was it sailing? hmm.

“I’m on knight shit, I work at night and it is shit. I’m not available in this dialogue. Please direct any other enquries to Box XYZ in your capital city” replies Gib.

“Shit, piss, fuck” roar the crew.

[Can anyone contact the author? Having trouble, square brackets are supposed to do it]

[Hmm, cough, snort, cough, more coughing, get the picture, what?]

Foodge in the meanwhile decided to give up looking pensive or worried to the point of ennui.

[Interval music]

Now, while we are taking a break here I

[Sorry, I was taking a break. Even writers need a break.]

[[Sorry, I was taking a break]]

[[[Really, really sorry, I was taking a break…]]]

Ennui any one?

Foodge rocks on

Story by Mark

Foodge had a worried look on his face as he entered the front bar of the Pigs Arms. He cast his eyes around and notes the usual crowd is in, all probably trying to stay out of the rain and the warmth of the open fire this time of the year is very comforting and addictive.

“Canoe of Trotters Best pleas” requests Foodge.

a dickhead

“Piss off dickhead” replies Merv.

Well, poor old Foodge was taken aback. While his memories of last night and in fact of most last nights was a little hazy, he could not remember insulting, abusing or assaulting any one which in itself is odd.

“Wots your problem Merv?” asks Foodge.

“Gawn, fuck off” continues Merv in his usual laconic style. You know the type, attack first ask questions later, hmm, yes, very laid back indeed.

“What…” says Foodge but Merv pipes in.

“Hey Foodgy, like my new way of creating some controversy at the beginning of the story to keep folk interested?” inquires Merv.

“Well different I suppose but then again this is the Pigs Arms. Anyway Merv old boy there is something wrong with rock” says Foodge as he takes a long draw of beer to help calm his nerves after Merv’s new way of making friends and influencing people.

“Well ask a bloody geologist not me, I’m just a dumb waiter” laughs Merv unable to control himself.

Meathead or close

“No, rock and roll you goose. Meathead had to fall over on stage to get noticed and seeing that he had two hits 40 years ago maybe that’s his new stage act, I dunno. Then my favorite band Bled Kremlin have been charged with playger something that means ripping off someone’s song” replies Foodge rather long windily not realising that the author is a lousy typist.

“And two great songs they were” interjects Nurse Barbara “two beauts just like mine” as she flashes her delightful front verandah to the cheers of the crowd, no PC here thanks.

“Yeah, wot was they, a song about a girl and another song about a girl” laughs

Sister Yvonne

Sister Yvonne as she takes another drag of her smoke then downs a tequila shooter and a beer. Oh yes, we are all equal at the Arms. “Wot about you Hung, ewe gorgeous arsed little creature?”

Hung’s arse

“It’s the gubbermint trying to repress the working class with neo fascist chemical weapons juxtaposing the syntax of the modern day man.” Gordon bloody O’Donnell, why did anyone ask him.

“It’s fucking homophobia” says Gib W “perpetrated by the main stream media. Anyone seen Angler.”

“I’m on holidays and I’m not in this episode” says Angler.

“Oh, come on then hph. Me you and Hung can go and shoot some commies or even better some neo-cons” says Gib.

“No fanks, I prefer more beer” replies hph.

“Actually me too. Merv drinks all round. Put it on Father O’Way’s tab pleas.” says Gib.

Cheers all round from the crew.

Trotters Best

“Shut up you lot. It says Foodge Episode 70.125 – Nothing is Real at the top of the page so it’s my story. This is important. The neon-fascist regime, otherwise know as ABBA fans, are out to get us” implores Foodge.

“Well Bled Kremlin have form, it isn’t like they have never done what ever that word is before” says Sister Yvonne.

“Well” says Nurse Barbara “If the riff to Staircase to Kevin’s has been around for ages how come Bled Kremlin were allowed to copyright it in the first place?”

Nurse Barbara

Silence falls upon the Arms to the point a pin dropping and hitting the floor could heard down the road and round the corner.

Game, set, match.