I’m genuinely grateful for all comments made about my stories because Crusty is very dear to my heart, as is Bel.
I’ve based both characters on people I’ve actually known in real life, but added a bit of literary licence to them both. 
I daren’t tell you how many chapters I’ve written, because I’m sure that if I did, folk wouldn’t want to carry on reading them, and would get fed up, but there are a lot. 
I’ve been off line for a few days and had to catch up with with Crusty’s adventures, I had a great laugh Mollie, thanks a million. I appreciate all the hard work you put in to let us read your stories.
Brilliant Mollie but I had to look away at the jellyfish swallowing bit :shock:
Jemflux, you’re very welcome and I’m thrilled that you’re enjoying the stories.
Maryl, sorry about that, but the jellyfish is the least of Crusty’s future problems.
Hee hee Mollie but it wasn’t a problem for him was it? He liked it, the 'orrible little man!
Trust me, he gets much more horrible than that! :twisted:
[B] 10
Crusty Meats the Upper Crust
(and Also Meats His Downfall!)[/B]
Anyway, this evening they were going to the West Midlands. Melonie wanted him to meet her cousin Aneata who lives in Birmingham.
She looked splendid in her chic, long skirted suit when she called for him and had decided to give him a treat.
“Right Crusty! How would you like to drive the Land Rover tonight?”
“Oooh ta very muchly. I’d luv to!”
The whole journey went quite well until they hit Spaghetti Junction. That really wound him up and Melonie was beside herself laughing.
“Wot sort o’ mad bugger made this road? It’s not bluddy normal’t keep goin’ round and round and not know how’t ger’off it! Why in’t there better signs?”
“Don’t worry Crusty! I’ve driven this road many times and it’s okay once you get used to it. Start indicating now and get into the left hand lane!”
She got him onto the right road and, once off the motorway, they drove through the outskirts of the city and into a more rural area.
The evening was drawing in and Crusty put on the car lights. They were driving down a country lane now and the tall trees were casting long shadows over the road. Soon, Melonie told him to slow down as a left turn was coming up which they were to take.
Crusty did as he was told and turned into what was a long driveway. Half a mile later they came to a well-lit courtyard where there were several other cars parked. There were Jaguars, Bentleys, Rolls Royces, top of the line BMWs, Mercedes sports cars and a few others. (Perhaps it was just well they hadn’t come in his old banger).
Crusty was puzzled!
They got out of the car and crunched their way across the gravel to the front door.
Crusty’s gob dropped to the ground. You should have seen the size of the place.
It was eeenormous.
“Is this it? Is this yer cousing Ryvita’s house?”
“Yes Crusty but my cousin’s name is Aneata, not Ryvita!”
“Oh aye, that’s reet, sorry!”
As they approached, a manservant opened the door. Recognising her, he stood to one side and bowed when she entered. Unbeknown to Melonie though, the butler thought Crusty was a hired hand, a gardener or something, and sent him round to the back door so he shuffled off a bit disappointed.
However, on entering through the kitchen door, his disappointment turned to ecstasy. The chefs and kitchen staff were preparing what appeared to be a magnificent meal.
“This looks most tasteyful! Weer canna find my Melonie? That mon on’t front door sent me round’t back. He must know I likes me grub a lot!”
The head chef, towering over Crusty, looked him up and down and understood why the misteak had been made.
He pointed with his boning knife in the general direction of the entrance hall where the people were gathering and Crusty, being a well-known famous hero, was given a ripple of applause. He walked proudly through the crowd which had parted like the Red Sea and, at the end, Melonie was waiting for him. Pride comes before a fall though, as we all well know.
He stood out like a sore plum amongst the well-heeled guests. Crusty was wearing his scuffed shoes, baggy pants, cockle hat and his hands were cruddy. The only smart bit was the new cardigan but he was wearing that under the old brown jacket with the bird sh!t on the back, and he’d already plucked it down one arm.
Once he’d met up with Melonie again the crowd gathered in and chatted in small groups, occasionally glancing at him over their shoulders. There were lots of daaahrlings and luvvies going on around him and for once, Crusty thought he was being made fun of.
The gong sounded and they went in to dinner. As is the case at formal occasions, the man is seated opposite his lady. Naturally, Crusty had two ladies either side as well. He was surrounded with 'em. Politely, they asked him a few questions in their upper-crust voices and Crusty tried to talk “posh” which made him seem even more ridiculous than normal. He was putting his aitches where there harn’t none. One of the servants came over and had to tell him, in a whisper, to remove his hat.
Just then the waiters came out carrying their starters. Crusty, not being well versed in etiquette immediately dived into the melon balls with his fish fork before waiting until everyone was served. They all stopped talking and turned to stare at him. It was only for a moment but the silence was deafening. He’d almost finished before some of the other guests had even been served!
While he waited for everybody to catch up with him he decided to make conversation with the lady to his left.
“Are ya goin’t ayte that bun?”
“Sorry, beg your pardon, what was that you said?”
“I said, are ya goin’t … will you be eating yer bun missus?”
“Oh I see, you mean the bread roll. No. You have it if you want!”
He rudely leaned over her plate and snatched the bread roll off her side plate then wolfed that down and the lady to his right passed hers over as well.
Suddenly, everyone was throwing bread rolls at him.
“Oooh, ta very muchly. I’ll keep howd o’ these and tek ‘em wom wi’ me!”
He was so grateful that he stood up and bowed so low that he nearly put his head in the bowl of steaming soup that had just arrived. He couldn’t eat them all at once so he took out his carrier bag from his cruddy pocket and started stuffing it with as many as he could, saving a few to dip into his soup.
Nobody batted an eyelid.
Very quickly, the staff came to clean up the mess of crumbs and, once the table was put back into proper order, the fish course came and so it went on until the main course arrived.
When he saw the main course his taste buds went into over-drive. It was lip- smacking good.
They were served with Beef Wellington! Deliciously tender beef wrapped and cooked in a golden crust, a medley of vegetables, Dauphin potatoes and some lovely thick gravy in elegant gravy boats.
“Oh goody. I loves meyt pie!”
He couldn’t believe they were giving him a meat pie at a posh do. He removed a slice of it and made another butty out of one of the bread rolls he’d fished out of his carrier bag.
Somebody commented that he had a gullet like a disused mine shaft and were shocked by his appalling table manners. Melonie just ate her meal and spoke quietly to the two men on either side of her.
Suddenly, the lady sitting to his left spoke to him.
“Tell me about yourself Crusty. I’m sure it would be most interesting.”
He started rambling off with his usual spiel.
“Well, when I were younger I wanted to join the Jam Busters but they wouldn’t let me 'cos I couldn’t fly an aeroplane an’a was only twelve!”
“Oh that’s such a shame. What else!”
Everybody around the table was now listening to what he was saying and there were smirks appearing on most of their faces.
He babbled on.
“Well me dad knew this man who went and became a Beefeater at the Tower of London!”
“That’s most impressive!” she replied, trying hard not to laugh.
Crusty continued hanching and grumphing his way through his meal, making terrible pig sounds.
The lady to his right nudged him in the arm with a wink.
“I say old boy. Do you like a bit of crumpet every now and again?”
“Oh aye, I loves a bit o’ crumpet. I likes it best when it’s getten loads o’ butter smeared all o’er it!”
She was a bit stumped by his reply but let it pass. He didn’t look like the kinky type! Still it takes all sorts.
Then, with twinkling eyes, she nudged him again.
“I was wondering Mister Crusty. Do you like a little romp in the hay?”
Crusty, being a bit deaf, once more misunderstood the question.
“Oh aye, burra likes a little rump in th’oven, just done to a turn!”
She gave up and turned to talk to her gentleman companion, which left Crusty to eat alone. Every time she’d asked a question he had been about to put food into his mouth and he’d either put the fork down, or shovelled the food in anyway and spoke with his mouth full.
Poor old Crusty was way out of his league and everyone knew it. Problem was, he didn’t!
He continued to make a prat out of himself much to the amusement of the other guests. They were absolutely delighted with his company.
They’d never seen a Crusty before!
There was the faint ringing of a telephone in the far reaches of the house and it was answered almost immediately.
Shortly, the butler appeared at the door.
“Forgive the intrusion ladies and gentlemen. Will Lady Melonie please come to the phone - long distance calling.”
Crusty was still stuffing his face but suddenly stopped halfway shovelling a piece of crust down his throat. He coughed. Then he started choking. He was going red in the face.
Somebody started thumping him on his back and the two barm cakes dropped out from where the shoulder pads should have been under his jacket. He’d forgotten they were there and the mouldy cheese dropped onto the expensive carpet.
Once he’d recovered he got up from his seat.
Had he heard right?
“Lady Melonie?”
His face draining, he now knew why he’d been brought here. He was the entertainment for the evening for these posh sods who were obviously bored.
They started laughing at him. Even the bloody servants were in on it.
Exit stage left. He took off like a rocket, on and out into the fresh air but they chased after him.
There was one last laugh though, which he had been set up for all along. As he got out of the door he was caught by two of the bigger men. He pummelled at them but to no avail.
“Ger’off me, leave me alone. Wor’ava done to deserve this?”
Something was popped over his head. At first he thought it was the OBJ but no, it couldn’t be.
Paaarp!
He was getting very, very nervous!
Once it was on, they started spinning him round and round and he saw lights flashing from it. Melonie was there with the others laughing at him.
He looked down and, reading upside down, he read the words in shocking pink neon - “Hartley’s Bakeries”.
Paaarp, paaarp!!
They’d dressed him up in a sandwich board.
He struggled to get loose. The sandwich board was strapped on so tightly and he thought he needed a pee!
Hail the Conkering Hero!
© Mollie M
11.07.01
[B]11
Crusty Eats Humble Pie
(and Has A Reunion)![/B]
He’d finally broken free of the party revellers and had marched off angrily, not really knowing where he was going.
Head hanging low, he had trudged the deserted streets wearily for nearly two hours until he found the railway station, shocking pink neon signs still flashing around the sandwich board. The switch was at the back and his arms were folded inside the board so he couldn’t use them. Poor bugger was dying for a pee. Luckily, there were very few people around at that time of the morning except for a few taxi drivers, but once he hit the city centre it was a-buzz with life.
He had come across a gang of youths who, on his approach, had worried him. You hear all sorts of things going on, but the youths were so surprised their only reaction was a lot of teasing and laughing at him.
As he had walked past them they had poked him in the ribs and tickled him through the sandwich board, calling him “Gramps” and “Pinky” but other than that they allowed him safe passage. He heaved a sigh of relief.
Before they’d strapped the sandwich board on him they had relieved him of his Armani cardigan and he was getting cold now. He really wished OBJ was here but he wasn’t. Unbeknown to Crusty, he was safely tucked up in bed under the blankets, keeping warm on this cold night.
Once he’d found the railway station Crusty had discovered a rail guard fast asleep.
“Please mister wake up, please help me, I need some help, please!”
The guard woke up and, on seeing Crusty in flashing pink lights, leapt up in fright. He’d thought he was having a nightmare.
“I’m sorry’t wakken y’up lad bur’ave been made a fool out of. Just look at wot they’ve gone an’ done at me!”
Crusty explained to the guard what had befallen him during the night and the guard, taking pity on the poor old lad, sold him just a platform ticket so Crusty could get his head down in the waiting room.
“Come here sir, I’ll help you get out of that board!”
The guard helped Crusty to extricate himself from the sandwich board which had been strapped on so tightly it was like a straight-jacket!
The guard then tore off a platform ticket and held it out to him.
“There you are old chap, that’ll be two pounds fifty please.”
Crusty had broken out in a sweat when he’d had to get out his wallet for the money.
“Er, I’ve gor’a bit of a problem lad. Have ya gor’a sharp knife I could borrow?”
The guard had looked at him quizzically but handed him a Stanley knife he kept for emergencies
He was even more flummoxed when Crusty started trying to hack through the two welded parts of the wallet, took out some money, and handed it to him.
“Ta very much owd lad bur’am brastin’ for a pee!”
Crusty thanked the guard again and zoomed off to the loo.
From there he went into the empty waiting room and waited for the milk train, which was due in the early hours. It was two in the morning now so he wouldn’t have long to wait. Crusty knew that if he had been found out, the rail guard could have lost his job and he was very grateful to him.
He got his head down but didn’t sleep a wink. He heard the birds start their singing and knew it was around four o’clock so he decided to sit up and listen out for the train.
It seemed like days later as he put the key into the lock of his front door and went straight up to bed to get some proper sleep.
The OBJ, hearing the key in the lock, had leapt out of the bed and stood sentinel in his usual corner pretending to be dozing. Crusty just collapsed in a heap on the bed and fell fast asleep.
Several hours later he awoke to find that he’d overslept for his little job at the cafe and he was very upset. He rang them to let them know that he’d had a personal problem the evening before and that he would be back as normal tomorrow.
What to do with the rest of his day now though? He made himself a cup of tea and some toast and thought about what had happened to him. Why had she done that? What had he ever done to her?
Well, for a start, she realised from the get-go that he was snivelling, scruffy, smelly, gold-digging little oik of a man and she would make sure he got his comeuppance for attending her beloved sister’s funeral without being invited. She’d show him! It was obvious that he was trying to hobnob with his betters but was too stupid to realise he’d been noticed immediately and that he just hadn’t fitted in.
Her sister had wanted a quiet funeral and to be interned with her darling husband so, instead of being buried in the family mausoleum, she had chosen just a small affair at the local church, but at least all the family had turned up to see her off.
Melonie had devised a plot and it had worked like a dream. Her family were extremely wealthy which, in fairness, Crusty hadn’t caught onto as he was too wrapped up in himself to notice, and too stupid to recognise great wealth when he saw it. He was ignorant about many things in life. Mind you, she hadn’t organised the unexploded bomb on the beach. Even she couldn’t have foreseen that little plum.
Melonie had only lived with Sultana for a short time whilst she had been very ill. Sultana had, according to the rest of her family, married beneath her but had lived in the little house with her husband very happily.
Melonie’s home was a far cry from the little terraced house, her family home being a twenty bedroom mansion and set in eight hundred acres of arable farmland. They grew their own wheat and owned a flourmill and a very successful horse stud. A very out-doorsy type was our Melonie. Hence, the love for camping which her father had introduced her to when she was little.
Poor old Crustykins had never stood a chance!
He sighed loudly and turned on the Macaroni. He heard on the news that they (Macaroni) were currently undergoing changes and problems but hoped they’d stay in business. He tuned it in again and there was a lively song being played by The Applejacks - “Have I The Bite”.
He put the kettle on again and thought about how he could pass his day without further incident.
Neil Diamond was now singing “Crackling Rose”. He switched the radio off. He wasn’t in the mood for these happy, lively songs today.
He decided to go for a drive to clear his head so, after he finished his tea, he popped on the OBJ and went out and got into his ancient car. When he started to move off, the car seemed sluggish, so he stopped and got out again. Oh perfect! Bloody brilliant! A tyre had gone down. It was as flat as a pancake. Never mind. He’d change it later.
He went for a walk instead.
He walked a long way and when he stopped and looked around he realised he didn’t know where he was. He’d been so lost in thought that he’d just kept on walking without taking notice. He came upon a little cafe that he’d never seen before and decided to call in.
He thought he knew all the cafes within a fifty mile radius. He ordered potato cakes and tea but didn’t really enjoy them. He was so miserable and his heart wasn’t in it.
He asked the waitress where he could catch a bus home and as he got to the bus stop it came trundling down the road almost immediately.
Surprisingly it took him just two hundred yards away from his front door.
He shut the door firmly behind him and within seconds there was a loud rap on the door knocker. He nearly jumped out of his OBJ with fright and started mumbling about people not leaving him alone. He shuffled back to the door and opened it.
The person standing there at his threshold was a familiar face. A face whose beauty had enthralled him! A face actually smiling at him! He couldn’t believe it. He was almost crying with joy. He never thought he’d ever see her again. But here she was.
He cried out her name, almost sobbing now. It was such a relief to know he had at least one friend in the whole wide world.
© Mollie M
21.07.01
Thanks for more laughs Mollie, I can see Crusty getting the O.B.E…One Boiled Egg..
Thanks again, Jem. Oh, he’ll get more than that, mark my words. 
Just caught up with Crusty - brilliant and such a laugh
Keep 'em coming 
Thanks, Carmen. Yep, I’m working on them.
I have just caught up again Mollie, it was really good to escape into your story which i might add is just fantastic funny and gripping
Thanks again, Kitty. It’s nice to know that folk are enjoying them and, as you say, you can escape here now and again.
He starts get a lot more naughty from here on in though, so prepare yourself.
Oh I is prepared - don’t think Crusty’s antics could shock me
Just read part 1 Mollie, very good 
Will read part 2 tomorrow as about to go to bed.
You wanna bet, Carmen? You have absolutely no idea! 
Marpaul, you’re right at the beginning lass, so hope you find them interesting enough to catch up to Chapter 11. 
Oh I hadn’t realised I was that far behind!! Loved the first one and I’m sure I’ll enjoy all the others as well, you are very talented 
Thanks, that’s nice of you to say so. Chapter 12 coming up later this evening.
