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Tag Archives: Father O’Way

The Pres talks to Jim

28 Sunday May 2017

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, fiction, humour, Sandy O'Way

He said he was from outer space…

Hi, Sandy here, you know, the parish priest from the Church of St. Generic Brand, down the road and round the corner from the Pigs Arms.

Wwwwweeeeeelllll. I have some breakout news for you. Currently I’m in space with Gordon, Gordon O’Donnell, the creator of the universe and we intercepted this phone call from Earth. The message was intercepted by a SHITBOX(Sub-ether Hologram Intergalactic Transmission Broadcast Over X). X is the operating system. So here’s how the theory works. Many aeons ago a single-minded company decided to create objects called shitboxes. I’m sure all who are reading can identify several shitbox

a shitbox

episodes in their life. These shitboxes ended up all over the galaxy and they transmit all means of communication available. They play news from Bad Aunty, sport, music, even country and western!

This transcript is between an orange roughie called the Pres(TP) and a foodie called Jim Kong Ung(Jim) who just loves a deal and whose hobby is rockets however is somewhat a sticky character[one for the nurses].

The Pres decides to give him a call. Ring, ring, ring, ring[get the picture].

Image removed.

Here’s a transcript and I really hope that this will put your minds to rest.

Jim: Heeelo Jim speaking, are you ready to place your order. Today’s special is a burrito called “The Wall” and you build your own, pay on the way out, extra fries 50 cent today only.

TP: No, I don’t want food, I want to speak to the leader of North Career, is that you?

Jim: Yep, that’s me. Crispy fried chicken wings 3 for a dollar, waddy ya say?

TP: Look, it’s about this missile thing with really dangerous stuff on-board.

Jim: Don’t worry bout that, that’s just for the locals, keeps them on their toes, bhawawahahahahah, I made a funny. Schnitzel 7 fifty, just for you.

TP: Hey, ewes a smart man, wheeze could do business. I tell you, what would it take for a man like yourself to reach a peace deal?

[At his stage the phone is muffled by a hand over the talkie bit. The Pres could hear

When you’re smiling

phrases but nothing to much, “sigh,basket caper, go hurt the dill, lots of sauce and don’t go sour on the dough, moucho dough”. The Pres then realised that these guys were tough negotiators. That’s pretty high praise for fictional characters].

Jim: Can we get a signed basketball and some smoked salmon with sour dough and a yogurt and dill sauce dressing, oh hang on, [muffle, muffle] and capers.

TP: Is that all? Anything else.

Jim: Um, yeah enough to feed the crew.

TP: Okay, how many?

Jim: Five.

TP: And so we won’t bomb each other.

Jim: Okay, you drive a hard bargain. Sure you don’t what some fried rice?

TP: Now I’m taking your order.

Jim: Yes, so it seems Pres.

You call that a shitbox now this is a shitbox

Merv worries about Money

03 Monday Apr 2017

Posted by Mark in Mark, The Mens

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, Gib W, humour, Merv, Pigs Arms

Merv gets ready for the day, nasal hairs clipped.

 

Story by Mark.

 

Merv was feeling pen, pen, pen something as he stood behind the bar, erectile and well dressed. Merv had been taking guitar lessons from Nigel Fargo Evans who apparently taught Jimi Smith and Stevie Ray Jones how to play however it wasn’t rubbing off so to speak.

“A is first followed by B then C” proclaimed Nigel. This was too much for Merv to comprehend so he decided guitar playing was not for him.

Merv was pen, pen, pens.., looked around the bar and noticed that the usual crowd

I’m a quark, I fink

were in chatting away about quarks, astrophysics, shotguns and girls just like any Inner Cyberian pub would.

But Merv was worried about where all the money came from? “Ask Hon, she’ll tell ya” said Hung.

“From me purse Merv, eyes look in it an the money comes out” says Hon.

“Where’s that bloody priest, Sandy get Gordon here” roars Merv.

“Bless you my son, I now pronounce you man and wife, whose soul will thus goeth to hevanus” replies Father O’Way, from the church of St Generic Brand, just to get the word count up.

“Cut the crap Sandy, get him here” demands Merv.

So Sandy rings Gordon and asks him over. “Gordon,you better get here quick, we have a religious uprising”

Bloody Kennards no Pleece boxes

[Sound of the Tardis, Sound of the Tardis, Sound of the Tardis, Sound of the Tardis]

“Hey, who are you, where’s Gordon” cries Merv.

“No. I am a replica of Gordon. I am a programmed cardboard cut out from the planet Aurora and am here to answer any questions about money here at the Pigs Arms. As a cardboard cut out I save the Pigs Arms lots of money in space travel time and I gotta say Emmjay is always telling us that the budget can’t afford these special effects.”

“Well, special effects my evacuation valve but I want to know about money at the Pigs Arms. I make thousands of dollars every night to a sui generis group of people” pushes Merv. Bloody heck, what does that mean? I always wondered about a group of people.

“Sorry, don’t recall, no, don’t remember, no I don’t recall that I can remember,

I fink I just went to the toilet again…

possibly,no, probably not, I wasn’t there, she told me she was sixteen, I can account for everything that I have done but sadly they are subject to FOI(Fuck Off Idiot) Laws” says the cardboard cut out.

“Well Hung gave me a twenty and I had to give him $250 change” goes Merv.

“Sorry, don’t recall, no, don’t remember, no I don’t recall that I can remember, possibly,no, probably not, I wasn’t there, she told me she was sixteen, The vehicle has low kilometres and service history. Finance can be arranged. Test drive sure can, here snort this” says the cardboard cut out.

“And mees and him had a bet on the foottee. I went the Newy Shitkickers and he went the Illawarra Underworld Figures, anyway where’s the bong?” pips in Gib W.

Trust me, I don ‘t need to go to the toilet

“Sorry, don’t recall, no, don’t remember, no I don’t recall that I can remember, possibly,no, probably not, I wasn’t there, she told me she was sixteen, look renovators dream, shag pile carpet and Elvis Presley wall paper, reduced, knock that wall out, rebuild the pergola, add an extra bedroom, new kitchen and bathroom, the roof, insulating and heating, hot water, driveway, garden, mate what are you waiting for…” says the cardboard cut out.

Does this feel familiar?

Jesus fucking Christ, someone give us a fag and where’s the bloody loo.

Bumper Christmas Edition 2016 – Sandy for Parley Mint.

23 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark, Politics in the Pig's Arms

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, Foodge, granny, humour, Merv

Church of St Generic Brand

Church of St Generic Brand

 

Story by Mark.

 

Father O’Way was looking rather pens…, um, nerv…, anyway he was looking rather sumfink. He had just got off the phone with Bishop Bishop.

“Sandy, it’s the Bish. I want you to run for parley mint. The Church of St. Generic Brand needs gubbermint representation” barks the Bish.

“But Bish, eyes hate running, makes me all hot and sweaty” replies Sandy.

“No not that sort of running you ninny. You get people to vote for you and then

The Bish in disguise...

The Bish in disguise…

when you are elected to parley mint you vote for all sorts of stupid things that don’t make sense and hurt innocent people.”

“But Bish, can’t I just go back to sleep and forget about it?”

“No. So get to man. Everything depends on you. May the farce be with you.”

 

*****

Sandy wanders into the front bar of the Pigs Arms, sad and forlorn that his simple life is about to become more complex.

“Wanna pint Father?” asks Merv. “What’s up with you. I just read the paragraph above and it says that you are sad and forlorn.”

“Where’s Granny?”

“She’s in Orkland with the twins. Are you okay?”

Sandy strums a tune...

Sandy strums a tune…

“Well the Bish wants me to run for parley mint. Me, I just want a simple life none of this gubbermint rubbish.”

“Foodge, you’re starting to express yourself more now you’ve been at school for a while.”

“WTF are you doing Merv?” cries Sandy.

“Sorry mate just making a comment in Episode 80 of the Foodge series and speaking of Foodge why don’t you ask him, he’s a sage for sure”

Sandy wanders around the bar and spots Foodge in deep discussion with Emmjay and O’Hoo.

“So Granny’s getting back Christmas Eve?” states Foodge.

“Foodge!!, what…” demands Sandy.

“Sorry mate just making a comment in Episode 81 of the Foodge series, now what’s up Father?”

“The Bish wants me to run for parley mint and I have no idea as to what to do.”

“Well Sandy, neither do they.”

*****

Oh FFS, this is just stupid Sandy thinks to himself. What is this life really all about, oh, I feel a poem coming on.

“Nah, nah, no Sandy, no poems, ick, anyway this is Christmas, says so in the heading. It’s a time for merriment and um, er, um, sumfink.” says Hung from the commentary box.

I dunno thinks Sandy, life is so imaginative inside Inner Cyberia, well sort of…

Merry seasons greetings to you all from Bishop Bishop and Father O’Way from the Church of St Generic Brand to all the patrons at The Pigs Arms both past and present.

Hmm, Mary Christmas.

Hmm, Mary Christmas.

Merv is Undecided

28 Monday Nov 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, Merv

M is for Merv, sweet and chewy...

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...

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...

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...

That’s me in the corner…

 

Father O’Way – The Middle Ages 1

22 Tuesday Mar 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way, Mark

 

O'Way we go

O’Way we go

Well, I suppose that you will now want to know about the middle bits, you know before I go into sp…

[Cut,cut, cut, no one move, Mike the Editor here, Mark don’t give away the story just yet]

… yeah right before I go into spontaneity and go along with the script. Even my spell checker says I spelt spontaneity right once I corrected it. Isn’t life just grand. Well let me tell you what’s been happening since I’ve seen you last.

Now lets see, lets start with the meetings. Out under our charming marquee with the Bishop at the head of the table and you have Sister Horribleness at the other head of the table it you get my drift and the rest of us just pull up a pew, literally.6459934-funny-priest-with-mean-nun-holding-ruler Don’t wanna type too loud here just in case the old bat can still hear.

“Did you have something to say Father O’Way?” asked the kind but hirsute Sister, a frequent visitor at Glenda’s House of Pain, next door. “Please address the chair if you wish to speak.”

“Yes your Excellency” I say beauteously. Hey, nice word, like when they come out of Glenda’s House of Pain, a face of pure agony but looking beauteously. However it sort of rhymes with “beat him up” as they look at a lonely priest, especially one that doesn’t require either the agony or the ecstasy.

Well my chair don’t speak nothing Sister so I let it rip, both barrels, no holding back, oh yes, you should have seen me in action. In fact my with my wit and intelligence I thrashed her to within plus or minus 2.5 centremeters of her life. I forcibly spoke to her, barely able to contain my anger, anger so extreme that I replied “Yes Sister, Thank You Sister” grrrh, forever the diplomat.

Replica wedding tent - not actual size

Bishop Veri Bent takes the stage, you were hoping I was going to say rostrum weren’t you, oh well shit happens, even in your duds.

The Bishop outlines our jobs, Billy is to help get some ramps in for disabled kids and me I had to find a home for some refugees. Bishop Bent picked up the bill which was paid for by attendees of the church, unbelievable people in my view. You know, you would almost think this was fiction.

And that was it, do that as best you can through the week and attend service every Sunday except twice a year some special day nearer New Year and Good Easter Day when the Church of St Generic Brand is shut. Wow. Sandy like.

Now let me tell you about some of the staff. They all come to the meetings on Monday at 11 am which Veri loves as he likes time to wake up, coffee paper and nicotine patch on the porch, a tub then breakfast then into it. Veri didn’t care what time it was when he finished work. When asked what his favourite time was, he would always say “Drink o’clock mate” but Billy on the other hand likes to be up and at it early, told you he was odd.

Everyone contributes however the two heads at the table make the final decision. Anyhoo, it always boils down to who needs help the most. Lotta dem poor in Inner Cyberia especially in the Western suburbs where we all live.

online-fashion-shoppingWe have a group of women that run the place. They are all sisters, er, um, biologically Belinda, Juanita, Jacinta, Melinda, Rosita, Edwina , Sophia and Cassandra Citizen. The prettiest by far is Belinda, gulg, gulg, how can a mug like me ever approach a girl like that. Belinda walks past, my attention is fixed, my mind closes and I only vaguely remember how to speak, I mean here comes the best looking girl in the Universe. Do you get the feeling that I like the look of her…

[Mark here mate, get on with it, again]

…subtle intelligence emanating from her studious looks and her delightful smile.

“Hi, Sandy” she said as if my name was Sandy and I looked like someone who needed saying hello to. “My names Belinda I believe you have met all my sisters except Glenda, she’s got her own shop next door, you know, the House of Pain, lets hope you never have to go and have your short and curly’s done” she said laughing and me too, I think this is just so far fetched that it is stretching the boundaries of fiction, fancy me being talked to by such a bewitching girl.

“Meet to glad you” I say in my usual dumb way however we both laughed again.
“Anyhoo, I’m off to do some more jobs, hope to see you around” Belinda replies romantically…

[Cut, cut, no one move, Mike the Editor again, Mark, Belinda is just being kind to Sandy, she’s not in love with him]

…okay then she replies in a non-perfunctory manner. [Mark here, is that better? Are these editor types spoilt sports or what.]

Look let me know if you fall asleep, I’ll read it to you again if you like.

See ya next time.

Father O’Way – Fax Evasion Exposed

09 Wednesday Mar 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Bish, Father O'Way, Gordon O'Donnell (GOD)

Gordon's supply

Gordon’s supply of Brandy

“Get the fuck up and get over here” roars the Bish down the end of the phone. “The Inner Cyberian Pleece are coming over to make sure that all of us here at the Church of St Generic Brand aren’t tax evaders”emphatically states the Bish.

“Excuse me Bish but we are now in a Father O’Way story and swearing is not allowed anyway you said Fax Evasion, see that’s easy, just don’t have one” I reply while scratching my nuts then farting, as you do. Hmm, that fingernail needs attention. Now we have done the on wee gag enough for sure however it just seems to fit here beauteously.

“Oops, sorry Sandy, thought we were still in Foodge but you are a pudenda sometimes” laments the Bish “Just seems like everyone is fucking everyone these days and I said tax not fax you ninny”

“Bish, no swearing in my stories please. In Foodge your Emmjay and you can swear all you like there but here you are Bishop Billy Bishop we all call the Bish” I inform but shush, knowing secretly, I mean, keep this to yourself right, don’t tell a soul, on your honour, it’s because he is the BISH(Big Important Sh#t Head).”

“Well, between you and me, just our little secret right” confines the Bish “Rouge can at times look rather attractive and I must admit, even though I’m a Gordonian, and yes I know Gordonians can have girlfriends etc but if she ever dropped the soap as they say then I would try and you know” flippants the Bish.

“But what about Mrs Bish?” I ask in a non forensic way if you know what I mean.

“Am I married in this series?” asks the Bish.

“Actually, now you say that I don’t think Hung married you off in this series although you and a blow up dolly were caught in a compromising situation that you assured us was an accident” I needle without temptation, wasn’t that belted into us somewhere.

“Hey, I know” says the Bish “ why don’t I shoot her with a 12 gauge shot gun?”

“Nah, a bit messy plus everyone doing that theses days, pretty ordinary in my view” I express.

“I know” sparks off the Bish “ Lets ask the author whatever his name is”.

!!Warning: The Church of St Generic Brand wishes to advise that any material written in-between [ ] square brackets are talks between the characters and the author. No responsibility is taken for this bit or something, you know what I mean!!

[Well, it’s Mark here Bish. Seeing that anyone reading this will basically need lots of help, why don’t we have one of those interviewer style thingys. This means I don’t have to say he said then he replied etc., etc., get the picture?

Bish: Sure Mark but am I married in the Father O’Way series?

Mark: NFI mate CRAFT disease, who are you again?

Sandy: Mark, please, no swearing, not in FOW please and by the way, what’s his 45 thing you bring up all the time?

Mark: Well if you say are really old like say 58 when they is born, just sayin like, then you will be 103 when they turn 45, kiddies, that simple.

Sandy: Oh

Bish: But am I married Mark, Rouge is hot?

Mark: Look, it’s like this. If I go back through the archives I’ll cut Mrs Bish out if she exists or technically she may or may not exist in non existence. This is complex fiction Bish, I know of all people hat you will understand it but then again I’m a lair with limited IQ, wat wood eye no.

Bish:Cheers thanks mate.

Sandy: Now Mark I want you to stop all this excessive swearing and sexual references. Surely you don’t want anyone to be interested in your stories do you?

Mark: Yes Sandy, No Sandy, Whatever Sandy can I go now please?

Sandy: Suppose. But look Mark you truly are a DICKHEAD

Mark: Hey Pal, what about the swearing, you just called me a dickhead, hmm.

Sandy: Yes, Decent Intuitive Compassionate Kind-hearted, Helpful, Earnest ,Adaptable, Dependable , um, see ya.]

!The Church of St Generic Brand wishes advise that the story has now returned to normal, well sort of!

Bloody hell, forgot the story now, look I’ll tell this Mark guy anything to keep the story going, okay,  thinks Sandy as he looks to the left to see the next paragraph.

So Gordon and the Bish meet with the tax office officials and then they interviewed me, appeared to be painful process for them, can’t understand why, can you?

Then after the considerable consumption of 2000 year old brandy that Gordon picked up on one of his previous visits, from a place now called France, the tax folk left happy and rather meritorious.

We all stood any waved then goodbye, blew kisses and yelled silly statements like “We must do this again some time…”, how simply ludicrous as only as these stories can be. Fancy wanting to meet regularly with the tax office? Hmm, how very French brandy of us, no thanks.

The Bish heads back to he comfort of the Rectory. Probably for a few smokes, help settle his nerves.

So it’s just me and Gordon. Not very often one gets to stand and talk with the creator of the universe. So my neural pathways are becoming a bit disorganised and I ask “What did you say to the tax office Gordon? They seem pretty sweet”

“Well” says Gordon “you won’t like it but I told them to fuck off and never come back. Once they verified that I own all the money on this planet they were happy as. The brandy was a bonus and by being succinct here I’m keeping the word count down, eco-friendly like.”

Father O’Way – The Early Days 4

24 Wednesday Feb 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way

Father Sandy O'Way, Church of St Generic Brand

Father Sandy O’Way, Church of St Generic Brand

Okay, here’s the deal, read parts 1 to 3 first then come back here.

Father O’Way – The Early Days 1

Father O’Way – The Early Days 2

Father O’Way – The Early Days 3

 

Okay, we all good, cat okay, lorry driver found yet, anyhoo, this trilogy has turned into fourthology so there goes the book deal. But look at it like this, if you stick it out to the end you can think to yourself “Today I have done a good deed.” In return for your deed you don’t have to go to church ever again, well not really just foolin’. Let’s face it there will be weddings, funerals and that thing where they poor water on ya noggin and I’m sure there are more but I can’t cope with more than I already know.

Okay, so the story goes, um, hang on just reading the last few paragraphs from episode 3, yeah, yeah know that bit, tell pokies, starts at ten, now I remember.

So ten comes and I head to my least favorite place, a church. As I turn the corner I see the church up ahead and it looks beautiful, restored and tastefully renovated, it was outstanding.

Billy was the gate and shouted “Come on Sandy lets meet Father Bent” and off we go. “So Billy what is it you want me to do today?” I ask sincerely, truly out of character. Pretentious I know, as we walk along the road to damnation, gee, so dramatic Sandy it’s just a friggin church I says to myself as I forgot to add the inverted commas.

“Dunno” says Billy in his usual non-chalant way. Now seeing that my spell checker doesn’t like non-chalant, oh, I see it wants me to put it as one word, fancy that, a spell checker running your life, strange story we are in, hmm. Maybe it isn’t a real word and what’s real anyway. Yet I digress. “Just tag along with me and see what I do today, it’s great you’ll love it” enthuses Billy.

“But Billy” I push bringing us to a halt, the anxiety was palpable like it was something that you could palp, anyhoo “ I don’t believe in God” I confess.

Billy goes pale in the face and dark clouds come over and blackens the sky. The wind starts to roar like a thousand lions, rain lashes our clothes and we are drenched to the bone. Billy rises in the air and revolves to turn and face me as if magic.

[Cut cut cut, Mike the editor here, you have just blown the special effects budget on that scene Mark. We had zero cents to start with now we have minus zero. Mark: Thanks mate, it matters so much to me ennui appears a more preferable option…]
[Billy here Mark, nice lead in, how’s my hair look? Mark: You’re cool dude…]

“Okay Sandy this is how we deal with God here in our church. There is nothing wrong with believing in God, that’s fine as long as it’s peaceful it’s cool. Me and you don’t believe in God, that’s cool too as long as we are peaceful, we don’t shove ours down them they don’t shove theirs down us. Okay, is that clear.” asserts Billy. Wow an assertive speech in a Father O’Way story, what is the world coming to or too but not two?

“Yeah but why be a church at all and for that matter why priests?” I ask sensibly which is incredibly rare.

“If I told you that I’d have to kill you” grins Billy “there’s lots more you need to know and anyway I can’t give away the whole story now can I” frowns Billy.

And yes we had a day to remember for sure. We guide each group to their own individual prayer room, well I was going to say chapel but for all the words that describe a room where people meet and say prayers, to their God, recite ancient texts to each other is a prayer room, okay, all good.

After the service, all the different groups gather under a large marquee where each group provides some food and drink on a giant table for everyone to eat. Not for the groups, it’s for the invited guests first, we serve them, assist them and when their needs are met we eat.

This weeks invitees are the residents of the St Porcine Nursing Home. Its just down the road and round the corner, so we bring them over in buses. Another bus will drive around the streets and ask any of the homeless to come over for a shower, meal and clean clothes. This is complex fiction here, hope you are hanging in there.

It just felt great, not like the taxing wing nut job. Now I’d wish I’d come over with Billy. “Sandy, come over and meet Father Veritas Bent, he prefers just to be called Veri. Now Veri is going to be promoted to Bishop and that means there is a vacancy for a ‘kind hearted boy‘ at the church.” informs Billy. “You would be great, you enjoyed yourself today I can read you like a book…

[Mark: Billy,working on a book but it’s a slow process. Billy: Cheers Mark, good for you]

“…and fancy having a job that is fun and that you can’t wait to start” continues Billy like all good proselytisers do.

But yes, I didn’t look forward to going to work and even though Madame La SpaghettiBolognaise has a genuine heart I didn’t look forward to there either, well not quite, her garlic and mushroom linguine was stunning.

So I met Veri and that’s how the whole thing began. I’m now Father Sandy O’Way of the Church of St Generic Brand, Inner Cyberia.

Father O’Way – The Early Days 3

20 Saturday Feb 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 41 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way

20020071-young-priest-holding-bible-over-white-background

Billy Bishop holding this months copy of Big and Bouncy[1]

If you haven’t read parts 1 and 2 then this won’t make any sense, not that it does anyway. Dem is here,

Father O’Way – The Early Days 1

and if still brave

Father O’Way – The Early Days 2

We all sweet.

So Billy went and became a trainee priest at the Church of St Generic Brand and we lost touch. Sad actually, Billy was my best mate for years and now I could no longer go home I was all alone. Isn’t sadness a funny thing because if you have never had happiness you won’t know what sadness is. Crikey, that’s a worry, that even made sense anyhoo I’m going to skip sadness and stick with happiness from now on, er, um, whatever that means.

[Mark here Sandy, get on with it, you’re using up the word count]

Darn the truth hurts sometimes. Verbosity was never my strong point, can’t think why, maybe my low literacy skills might have something to do with it but I doubt it. As my English teacher once said, oops, hang on, I never listened to him so lets just drop that one. And if I ever see the truth in one of these stories I will tell you and that’s a lie. You can trust me on that one for sure.

Anyhoo, I got a job making wing nuts in a factory down the road with board and lodgings at Madame La SpaghettiBolognaise’s Commorancy. Its next door to Glenda’s House of Pain and around the corner from the hotel, the Window Dressers Arms Pig and Whistle better know as The Pigs Arms.

The job was really hard, it took peak physical fitness, extreme intelligence and a high level of dexterity and of course I had none of those qualities therefore I was a perfect fit for the job. So you put a nut and a wing together in a machine, push a button and hey presto you have a wing nut. Thirty in one go and watch dem fingers and toes, it’s considered appropriate to fully check each digit before going home, hmm. I think gender may determine that count but lets not go there although I’m finding it difficult to resist.

Madame La SpaghettiBolognaise was a wonderful mother to all us challenged boys and you were able to tell which day of the week it was by the flavour of the sauce, curry, chilli, garlic and mushroom all with pasta de jour but Sunday night was always chicken roast, yumbo. A hearty breakfast and sandwiches and fruit for smoko and it was all ten times better than Sow End High but then again that wouldn’t take much.

Madame La SpaghettiBolognaise took all our wages and gave us some spending money for the weekend, generosity to the max, for sure. Anyhoo, I spent most of my spare time down the park kicking the soccer ball and dreaming about building another robot just like when I was a kid. Then I saw this man approach me in a weird suit, like the one you would get from a weird suit shop but it was a priest, collar and all.

“Gidday Sandy” said the bloke, well I guess he has done his home work. Didn’t you hate that as a kid, come home from school and continue working. Dear oh dear, what sort of world did we grow up in. Anyway I digress which is the only thing I’m good at.

I looked hard at him, so hard in fact that my eyes were hurting. My eyes were telling my brain to go way and procreate but in some other words that may be considered rude. Go on brain think of something to do however my neural pathways returned this message “Unfortunately your operating system is going to shut down. Press any key you like, it won’t make any difference…”  Notice the dots at de end, why day do dat?

I awoke on the ground with my head between a priest’s legs. I was groaning, I could feel this throbbing sensation in my head umm, umm, but is was Billy, Billy Bishop, my best mate. Billy was helping me up off the ground and you thought! well I never. He still had that wicked grin sort of like a Cheshire Cat but not full breed, maybe half-breed that had luckily been run over by a lorry.

“Billy how the sexual intercourse are you?” I cried with joy. Billy looked really well, happy and by the look of him well fed. We hugged and shook hands. This was unbelievable and this is fiction and even I’m believing it’s real, wow.

“I’m great, the church is a fantastic place. Look tomorrow is Sunday, come over, watch the

6459934-funny-priest-with-mean-nun-holding-ruler

Sister Horribleness and Father Veri Bent

service and have lunch. It will be a great day out and you and I can talk all the bulldung we like. Starts at 10” says Billy. Notice how the boys are keeping the language down, someone under 45 may be watching this. Believe me this 45 thing is real. One never knows, anyhoo I, um, yep, you get the picture.

“Well Billy, you know that me and sexually intercoursing Church’s was never my strong point” I speak, with tongues, not really but sounds wicked don’t it. And to be honest I never made Churches a point to start with.

Billy pulls out the old grin trick. Apparently your mouth can form into a semi-crescent of some kind and the other apes think you are showing you like them. Even I don’t  believe this.

“Well okay then” I say “but please don’t shove this down my throat and yes it would be great to get together and tell porkies about how great we once were.” I commit.

Laughs all round. We shook hands and Billy headed off to the church which by the way is just down the road and round the corner, just like everything else in Inner Cyberia.

We think therefore we are sand.

Authors Notes:

Comments between square brackets [ ] are usually conversations between the character and the author, or some other character like Mike the Editor. Don’t be alarmed be alert.

[1] Billy has assured me that Big and Bouncy is a basketball magazine, for sure, I mean this is fiction and even I don’t buy that, well not until next time.

Father O’Way – The Early Days 2

15 Monday Feb 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way

Father Veri Bent

Father Veri Bent, readying himself to talk to the boys at Sow End High

WARNING: Do not consume liquids while attempting to read this story. Please ensure the cat is outside and if lucky it will be run over by a lorry. That way you will get more of your drink back. Keep tissues handy and it’s best to blow your nose before starting. If you understand the story then good for you!!!

If you haven’t read part 1 then go to the link below. Do so at your peril then come back here.

Father O’Way – The Early Days 1

All good. Okay, here’s what happens next.

One day mum said “You start school on Monday Sandy” as mothers sort of tend to do, especially when your name is Sandy and your mother is actually speaking to you. You know that no matter how much they love you, they always have the guts to tell you the truth. The truth, at times, can be hard to take and as it works out its up to you bozo, anyway I digress which is the only thing I’m actually any good at.

“Oh” I replied trying to ignore her. School rhymes with tool, is full of fools and then you get taught by mules, who by the way tried their hardest as mules do. How am I going to get out of this.

“Yes, Monday, try to do your best and get ready for the O’Way jokes” winked Mum. What’s an O’Way joke?[1]

So I went to school and did all the usual things you do on the first day, like wet your pants or say something stupid like “The man in the picture has a beard. I hate men with beards“, can you hear  the alarm bells ringing, I can now but not then.

When I got home mum asked, “So how was your day? What classes are you having tomorrow?”
“You mean I have to go back tomorrow” I asked with sinking heart.
“Yes, and for the next 10 years or so” said Mum. Wow, did I kill someone and no one told me, where are you Brian?[2]

So life became irrevocably changed. I wanted to keep working on the circuit boards in Dad’s shed to build my next robot but oh no I had to go to school. Just to learn a heap of stuff that I already new. This was frustration to the extreme.

Until along came a new boy called Billy, Billy Bishop, well it was William really but we all called him Billy. Me and Billy became best mates, footy, cricket you name it we played it all. As we approached the final part of Junior school me and Billy decided to steal a few oranges from the local orchard. Now what we didn’t know was the owner just happened to be patrolling the area, carrying an Anti Orange Stealer Device sometimes referred to as an AK-47. The owner demonstrated it’s firing prowess by discharging some ammunition contained in the magazine in our general direction. Now if you have heard of the saying “a rock and a hard place” then you will understand that having a rock and a hard place in front of you when you are being shot at by an AK-47 can be seen as a positive outcome. The future can never look dark, well not until next time any way.

Have you ever been that lucky that the Pleece[3] arrived, well the Pleece arrived. Probably saved our lives but took us to the station to be charged. Oops, I forgot to tell you, stealing oranges in Inner Cyberia is major offence. It’s up there with tax evasion except with tax evasion you just get richer whereas stealing oranges is a jail term. I’m sure you can see the analogy.

So me and Billy were sent to the Sow End High School for Boys with Criminal Records, yes I know the SESBCR, try an make an acronym out of that why don’t you! There were some weird types at the school, kids that could do the Rubric Cube in 5 seconds, use calculators and recite Pi to 25 decimal places, hmm, I know, scary. Luckily Billy new karate and I knew four be two so after awhile they left us alone.

School was a trudge and as evil orange stealer’s me and Billy were there till finishing year. At first mum would visit and see how I was going. Then after a while mum stopped coming and sent letters till I got this one

“Dear {Insert your name here}
We have had to let your room out so you can’t come home ever again. We all miss you {Insert your name here}
Mum”

Touching to the extreme. Better cross her off the Christmas list, not that I ever send any cards anyway. The school was put in charge of our finishing year and one day a priest visited to talk to us about becoming priests. As usual we had to attend another boring lecture. Let’s choose, hmm, have the crap belted out of you or go to some silly talk by a priest of all things. God mate, no such thing. The easiest way to prove that is why didn’t my favorite team win a game last year, see! Move over.

The priests name was Father Veri Bent, Veri being short for Veritas of course. Father Bent told us he came from the Church of Saint Generic Brand where all religions are tolerated and the only rule is you don’t proselytise, what ever that means. Father Bent was promoted to Bishop and so there would be vacancies for any “kind hearted” boys out there. Get me out of here was all I could think. Religion is best left until the kiddies are at least 45, sound familiar, well at least it has some continuity but not much.

Later, Billy said “Sandy, I’m going to become a priest at that church, you know from that bloke, Monsenior  Bendover or whatever”
“Surely you jest” I jested.
“Nah think of it” said Billy, “they feed you, provide you a house and all you have to do is wear a funny gown and listen to people’s problems, yeah…” dreamed Billy.

Authors Notes.

[1] Go for it.

[2] Interesting, my sense of humor is usually a bit obtuse but I like that gag. I did admire most of Glenn Robins work, well I believe it was him on Comedy Company???

[3] Thanks to the writers of the Foodge series changing the word Police to Pleece for ever. I’ve even told my spell checker to go away and except it, well I didn’t really but you know under forty fives could be watching without parental control, never know and we don’t want to use swear words now, do we.Scary.

Father O’Way – The Early Days 1

11 Thursday Feb 2016

Posted by Mark in Mark

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

Father O'Way

I'm the one not in the photo

I’m the one not in the photo

Yes well hello. This is the beginning I suppose so I guess that you will all want to know what has happened. I was born, hmm, no, I mean yes, I was born but perhaps we don’t want to go there, well not just yet. Look, lets get down to facts. This is true fiction and no lies have been added to this story unless it has been necessary and it seems it has been necessary quite a lot.

My name is Sandy, well sort of, my real name is Alexander however I prefer Sandy. I mean lets face it, Sandy is better than Alex or Al or something. One reason I prefer Sandy is acronyms, yes acronyms. See my real name is Alexander Leonard Lyndhurst O’Way, ALLOW, dreadful isn’t it, so over time I have developed a love hate relationship with acronyms. Anyway as the story develops you will see what I mean.

So yes, I was born at the Inner Cyberia Hospital(ICH) and as little kids we couldn’t resist putting a “T” in there to make it ITCH as we all reckoned that if you ever went to hospital you always came home with an itch. Sorry, what was that, you have never heard of Inner Cyberia? Well it’s next to Middle Cyberia and on the other side of Outer Cyberia. Pretty simple really. Anyway I was born at the ITCH and unfortunately taken home by the wrong family. See I was born right on change of shift which immediately put me off side with the staff. Nurses hate having to do anything during hand over and guess what, that was me. Well my new family were Chinese and they named me Zing Zang however they gave me a nick name, Nick, phew, imagine trying to explain away Zing Zang when the local bullies are just about to bash you.

My dad, Walter, a very wealthy man, was a watch maker and he was very proud of his shop “Walter Wong’s Watches” (WWW) being displayed across the front in large letters. “One day all this will be yours Nick ” he would say. Well dad, my name is actually Zing Zang but hey, never call me a pedant as I don’t even know what that means. I think you have it on toast for breakfast, pedant butter and funny, yumbo.

My dad was always looking to get richer. He used to tinker with computers and one day at a large family gathering my Dad said “You know, one day computers will communicate with each other via the phone line, the information will be broken up into packets and reassembled at the other end.” “Preposterous!!” came the cries and the next day the men in white coats, other wise known as purse carrying nancy boys, came and took my dad away.

Soon after that the police arrived. My mum was feeling bad because she missed dad but more importantly she had just broken a fingernail, as you do, and the policeman said “Mavis” that’s my mum’s name, “Mavis you’ve brought home the wrong child from the hospital” “Yes, that’s right the Wong child, my Nick” replied mum in her broken English. “No the wrong, wrong child” emphasised the policeman “He’s a Wong” said mum, “No wrong, w.r.o.n.g. child meaning Nick isn’t yours” and so I was taken away to my new family, Farter and Mafarter O’Way.

My new family were poor but really good to me. They didn’t eat fish and rice like the Wong’s but lamb and potatoes instead. My dad was a Traffic Control Officer with the Main Roads dept., otherwise known as a lollipop man, good for a lick for a zac[2] to go to the shop, and my mum was a farmer’s daughter. But, my English teachers will cringe with me starting a sentence with but, but hey, who gives a fun, then they went and named me Alexander, hmm.

This was all very different and it took me a long time to adjust. The great thing was that my first mum and dad became good friends with my second mum and dad, so in the end I had two sets of parents. Farter and Walter would debate every issue under the sun while Mafarter and Mavis would trade recipes and take turns at cooking the main dinner, life was pretty good. And of course the real Zing Zang was nicknamed Billy, Billy Wong, hmm.[1]
One day the Wong’s came over, with sad faces, to tell us that they were moving to Outer Cyberia. Walter got a good job offer in charge of trying to put and egg back together that had fallen from a wall, so he took it.

Now let me tell you, you know how some things are a long way, well Outer Cyberia was a long way plus a bit, like another long way. See what I mean. Perhaps even further then a long way, maybe it might even been further then Coals(Thanks Dave)[5] an, an, and you may not even eat cannibals, whats this world coming to, next there will something good on TV except Aunty and her little cousin

More to come so grit dem teeth and laugh so hard you hurt. Please avoid consuming liquids when reading this story. Your cat and keyboard may end up hating you.

Authors Notes

[1.] Think about it

[2.] I think a zac was sixpence and then became five cents, robbed again as usual. You can see that I am still bitter and twisted about 1966

[3] I have no idea about what this story is about but I’m having fun, hope you are.

[4] I dedicate this story to Helvi who gave me much support and encouragement to get Father O’Way into space and to the WDAPAW Crew who have all contributed ideas for the hapless Sandy

[5] Thanks Astyages, loved that one of yours for a long time

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