Story by Emmjay

“Fucking bastards !” said Merv, peering at his electricity bill.

“My son !” said Father O’Way.

“No, MY effing sun, Father” said Merv.

“Pardon ?” said FOW.

“It’s the pub electricity bill, Father” said Merv, handing over the offending epistle.

“Mother of all power bills !” said the good father.

“Telling me”, said Merv.

“Look at this, Father” said Merv, pointing to two little pieces of malfeasance on the part of Orgasm Energy.

“First”, continued Merv, “The bastards jack up the hourly rates EXCEPT for the middle of the night when everyone’s asleep cuddling up to the missus and generating their own electricity”

“Well, for SOME”, said FOW.

“Sorry, Father, I forgot” said Merv. “And check this out… you know how we put in solar power on the roof of the new ballroom and bowling alley….. well the mongrel bastards cut the rate they pay us for generating more power than we need in the peak period”.

“Seems unfair” said the good father.

“UNFAIR !” Merv was wound up and under full power himself now. “Check this out, Father. “Peak rate they charge me when Granny fires up the wedge frier – is 45 cents per kilowhatsit. The only rate they pay me is 4.7 cents per kilowhatsit – and the bastards reduced that from a whopping 5.1 cents, said Merv.

“Fuck them. Pardon me, Father”, said Merv.

Father O’Way took out his rosemary beads, looked into the middle distance and had a silent word with his boss. More accurately, his boss’ boss.

“Father ?” said Merv, pouring the shepherd of St Generic Brands another Trotter’s Ale.

There was a huge distant rumble. The lights flickered and the pub emergency generator sprung into life, keeping the vital supplies of Trotter’s Ale in an appropriately chilly state.

“Phew,” said Father O’Way. “For a minute there I didn’t think you had a prayer”.