Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]104

Bel Tries to Relax
(and Crusty Makes Her Very Proud!)[/CENTER][/B]

It was now two thirty, and after Bel had said farewell to Soreen she got on the phone to her businesses to make sure there were no problems and, satisfying herself that there was nothing pressing, decided to have a nice long day at home doing absolutely nothing.

She turned the radio on and sat back in her most comfortable favourite armchair listening to Ravel’s Bolero, which had just started, glass of wine in hand then closed her eyes and let the gently flowing music wash over her. She had now come to terms with everything that had happened to her over the last week or so and she could at long last relax.

Palethorpe was having a little nod at her feet after exerting himself earlier chasing after some of the wild bunnies, hedgehogs and other assorted wildlife which inhabited Bel’s large expanse of land, none of which he ever managed to catch.

Apart from the music and the birds singing happily outside, it was otherwise quiet and peaceful.

Until …

Thump, thump, thump, rrrring!

Startled, the dog and his mistress jumped up, every nerve jangling!

“The festering little sack o’ sh!t. Wot the bluddy hell does he want now, hommerin’ at me bluddy door uninvited? I’ll bluddy well throttle him in a minute!”

She got to her feet and stormed in anger over to the front door, which she flung open widely, squeezed her eyes shut, and grabbed out at his neck with both massive hands, tightened her grip and hauled the poor bugger up, shaking him till his eyes rattled!

“Aaarrrgh! Worra ya doin’ at me missus? Put me down! I’ve only come’t read yer gas meter!”

Suddenly Bel realised that it wasn’t Crusty who she was holding up fifteen inches off the ground. She dropped the poor bloke and he fell on the gravel with a clatter.

“Oops, sorry lad! I thowt ya were a friend o’ mine!” she said helping him up and dusting him down.

“Eeee missus. If that’s how tha’ welcomes thi’ friends I wouldn’t like’t si’ thi’ when tha’s getten a strop on!”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that a friend of mine always knocks on me door like that an’a were just dozing!”

“Reet. Can ya show me where yer meter is then missus?”

She showed him and he took the reading then walked as fast as he could back to the front door in case she decided to give him a hammering.

“Ya know summat missus, ya’d make a bluddy good bouncer!”

“I did when I were a lass! I’m sorry again about that. I’ll double check next time before I haul somebody in wi’t throat!”

“Reet then, I’ll bid ya good day! Try to relax a bit more. Ickle do thi’ a power o’ good!”

“If only!”

She resumed her seat and Palethorpe resumed his place, then they continued listening to the lovely music, which filled the room.

“Aaah! That’s much better!”

She closed her eyes again and thought beautiful thoughts. It was almost springtime again and the idea of another little break away sounded like just what the doctor would order after the horrible time she’d had in the Middle East, especially in the light of having heard the news that it wasn’t Mad Sam she’d captured after all, but one of his look-alikes! Still, she’d got the other one right!

She mused quietly to herself.

“I quite fancy a week in Spain, or pr’aps the Algarve. Wor’about the tulip fields in Holland?”

She started to doze a little and her breathing was at one with Palethorpe’s.

Until …

Dring-dring! Dring-dring! Dring-dring!

Her eyes flew open again.

“Wot the bluddy hell’s that now?”

It was the telephone evidently.

“Oh blast and damn their eyes, whoever it is. I can’t relax in me own bluddy home without somebody moiderin’ and pesterin’! Pr’aps they’ll stop ringing in a minute.”

Dring-dring! Dring-dring! Dring-dring!

Angrily, she got out of her chair again and went to answer the infernal thing, but she was very low on temper now.

“Good afternoon - Crustabel Lee …!!”

“Hiya Bel. It’s your Crusty a-caaaalling an’a …!”

SLAM!!

She waited by the phone knowing very well he’d ring again within seconds.

Dring-dr …!

“Wot?”

“Oh hiya again Bel. I think we just got cut off. It’s your Crusty a-caaaalling an’a just wanted to know if yer alreet!”

Her bottom lip curled down, her huge foot started tapping on the carpet and her face contorted into all shapes. She was fuming but she calmed herself down again. He hadn’t known she was trying to rest.

“Yes Crusty thanks. I’m fine, burra were trying to relax and get some peace and quiet.”

“Oh. So d’ya not want me’t come round for me tea today?”

“No, definitely not! Like I said, I want some peace and quiet and ya know very well tharra can’t ger’any o’ that if you’re here!”

“That’s true Bel. I’d only end up moiderin’ ya wouldn’t I ‘cos am always pestering, burra don’t do it o’ purpose Bel. It’s just me nature ‘cos I like being with ya an’a loves yer cooking. Ya know that, don’t ya owd lass? Plus the fact that ickle soon be time for goin’ on another jaunt won’t it 'cos ickle be summer soon so I’ll have’t get me seaside outfits together and see if I’ve gor’owt nice’t pur’on! Wot d’ya think Bel?”

Silence.

How did he know she’d been thinking about a break away?

“Bel?”

Silence.

“Bel. Are ya still theer owd lass? Bel?”

Bel wasn’t there.

She’d put the receiver down very quietly for a change then unplugged it from the wall. She disconnected the door bell, switched off both her mobile phones then went

to the remotest part of the house which was a covered balcony like a conservatory with a tiled floor, and lovely plants where it was impossible to hear anyone knocking, no matter how hard they thumped, and Palethorpe accompanied her.

She curled down on one of the sofas and slept for the next four hours. She was sleeping rather a lot since her return from abroad, which was understandable.

When she awoke her stomach was rumbling from hunger, so she made her way to the kitchen and took out the lovely piece of fillet steak that she’d de-frosted earlier.

She put a large potato into the oven to bake then an hour later she cooked the steak and fried some mushrooms, onion rings and boiled up some green beans. She topped the lot with a fiery pepper sauce that she made herself, then took the meal over to her kitchen table and sat down to eat.

Suddenly, she realised she was alone. All alone in this big rambling house! It was the first time she’d ever been aware of the isolation as she’d always found the solitude comforting, but right now she felt alone.

“Wot the hell’s up wi’ me at all? I don’t know which I prefer - being on me own wi’ some peace and quiet or Crusty moiderin’ the bluddy daylights out o’ me!”

Then she made a decision. She didn’t want to be on her own and she couldn’t be arsed with Crusty either, so after she’d finished her meal she phoned for a taxi to pick her up in an hour, went upstairs, had a shower which made her feel much better and got changed into one of her lovely outfits.

The taxi arrived with perfect timing.

“Where can I take you this evening ma’am?”

“Back in time about thirty years, but, unless this is a time machine I’d like to go to The Cat and the Canary! Do you know where it is?”

“Yes ma’am!”

When she arrived she found that they were having some sort of a do, but because she’d been away she knew nothing of it.

It was another fancy dress do. Of course, it was Easter this weekend. She’d completely forgotten all about it and The Cat and the Canary always had a do for every occasion. Any excuse to dress up!

She was the only one not in fancy dress, but nobody minded. They were pleased to see her as usual. Some were even glad that she was in ordinary clothes because nine times out of ten Bel won the first prize for fancy dress, so at least somebody else would get a crack at the whip for a change. Just as she was about to take her first sip of wine her mobile phone rang.

“Hello, this is Crustabel Leekey!”

[Mollie]

“Hiya Bel. I’ve been ringing and ringing ya at home but there was no answer, so ya mustn’t’ve been theer so am ringin’ ya on yer lickle mobile phone that ya can carry around wi’ ya in yer handbag or yer pocket and go to’t bog with, and now I’ve found ya!”

Her bottom lip had curled down again and she sighed heavily.

“Wot d’ya want Crusty?”

“Weer are ya Bel? There’s a lorra noise in’t background.”

“I’m at The Cat and the Canary and wot the bluddy hell has it getten to do wi’ thee? Are you checkin’ up on me?”

“No Bel. Just wondered where ya was that’s all!”

Then Bel had a little snigger to herself.

“I’ll tell ya wot owd lad. Why don’t ya put yer latest fancy dress outfit on and come along? Join in the fun!”

“Oooh, canna? Ta Bel. I’ll come if I can find it. I went in a taxi last time an’ he had a lorra trouble finding it, burrall do me lickle bestest!”

“Okay lad. See ya!”

“See ya Bel!”

“In about three hours,” she finished, tittering silently and knowing it would take him hours to find the place with his track record. She reckoned he’d arrive at just about closing time.

However, much to Bel’s displeasure Crusty turned up three quarters of an hour later with a big grin on his face because for once he’d found it straight away! All heads turned as he whooshed through the door at approximately ten thousand miles per second.

“Bel, Bel, look at worrave gor’on Bel! Where are ya Bel? Yoo hoo!! I cawn’t si’ thi’! Where are ya? Mustapha Fart’s arrived!”

He tittered.

She groaned.

He couldn’t see her but she could certainly hear him. She strode over to where he was scanning the room.

“Oi! Can ya not shout a bit bluddy louder? They cawn’t hear ya proper in Manchester! Neh shuttit and ger’o’er here an’ I’ll get ya a bottle o’ pop!”

“I’m not here to drink pop Bel! Ya know fizzy stuff makes me fart. I want a pint! Am spittin’ bluddy fithers!”

“Not while yer driving. Now shuttit!!”

His outfit looked ridiculous. It was three sizes too big, at least four inches too long and he kept tripping over it, and he had his nasty little lime green plastic sandals on. The burnoose was done up all wrong. He’d made the square into a triangle and placed it over his head fastening two of the ends together in a bow under his chin with the rope thing sitting on top of his head like a crown, and his Fez sat in the middle of that. He favvered a brain-dead person’s version of a mixture between Tommy Cooper and Gracie Fields in her factory girl outfit!

Sing as we go, and let the world go by!

“Wot the bluddy hell hast getten on this time? Don’t ya know we’re at war wi’ some o’t bluddy Arabs? It looks like ya’ve come out in yer grand-dad’s flannelette neetshirt! I towd ya it needed some alterations before ya wore it. And wot’s thar’on yer bluddy owd bald yed? Tha’ favvers bluddy weel!”

His tongue dropped out and started dripping everywhere, huge happy smile on his face.

“It’s me Arab outfit Bel! Ya towd me’t come in me latest outfit! Weer’s all this sand come from?”

She gave him his bottle of orange pop and they sat at a table. On seeing her, Frederick had whooshed over again making eyes at her, but this time she didn’t stand any nonsense.

“Frederick! I don’t come in here very often but every time I do you make a bee-line for me, and I’m sick to death of it. Next time you come bothering me I’ll give you a good slapping. Do you understand?”

Frederick grinned and winked at her.

“Oh sweet Bel! Ding-a-ling, ding-dong!! I love it when you’re being masterful. I’d ask you to sit on mi knee old gal but I rather imagine you’d probably break my skinny little legs! You’re a bonny woman sweet Bel!”

“If you bother me again I WILL break your bloody legs, but not in that way! Ah here comes your lady wife. Hello Cassandra!”

“Hello Bel. Is this stupid old fart bothering you again?”

Crusty started tittering behind his hand.

“Yes, take him away Cass so I can get some peace! I’ve enough to contend with, with this bloody old fool at the moment!”

“Righty-ho! Come on you. Off you go!”

Cassandra picked up her husband by grabbing his right ear and tugged him off to the other side of the room.

Crusty was just getting to the bottom of his bottle of pop and started making slurping noises through the straw.

Paaa - rup!

“Who was that man Bel?”

“Oh ne’ mind and stop farting. Hey up, I think they’re going to announce the winner of the fancy dress!”

“How come you’re nor’in fancy dress Bel?”

“Cos I didn’t know about it until I gor’ere, that’s why!”

“Oh! If I’d known I’d’ve put me Toyland outfit on. That gave everybody a good laugh at yer party that time didn’t it?”

“It did lad. That’s the outfit I thought ya’d pur’on, nor’a bluddy Arab outfit! Now hush, listen!”

“And now ladies and gentlemen it’s time to hand out the prizes for this particular fancy dress. For those of you who don’t know what the theme is tonight, and it appears that some of you didn’t, I’ll tell you. The theme for outfits for tonight were to be - Well-Known Figures In Bad Taste!”

Everyone turned and looked at each other, some giggling.

Just then, Crusty looked round and noticed some were wearing very outlandish outfits such as Margaret Thatcher wearing a moustache, bald wig, a man’s suit and tie; David Mellor in a black bin liner with a hat made out of oranges and wearing manacles on his ankles. One woman had come as the Queen smoking a huge Churchill cigar and showing stocking tops and suspenders and so it went on.

“Now then, some of you are really sick in the head!”

Everybody started tittering knowing that the Landlord was only joking with them.

“And some of you are just plain daft so we’ve decided to make a special award, as well as the prizes for the persons we think SHOULD win. Cassandra my darling, you are the winner for dressing as Mother Theresa, Gothic style!”

“Oh, how wonderful! Thank you all so much!”

[Mollie]

“And Jeremiah, dear boy, you look splendid as Desmond Tutu, in a pink tutu, boxing gloves and football boots! Very witty!”

The six foot seven, thirty stone giant, Jeremiah, hammed up the old Uncle Tom bit, speaking in the deepest, throaty voice you’ve ever heard this side of Alabama.

“Why thaaanks bohss. You sure made dis old black man reeeee-al happy today bohss. Wahl a’smack’a my thigh an’a hush’a my mouth!”

Everyone clapped and laughed as Jeremiah, the only black man who ever went into the pub, collected his prize as well.

And then!

“Now then. As I said, there will be a special award for someone who has come here in an outfit that would normally have had him lynched in the light of what’s happening in the Middle East at the current time. I remember him from last time when he wore an incredibly hideous old black jacket. In fact, he’s got it on again! I also remember his name … it’s Quasi isn’t it?”

Bel snickered.

Crusty was looking round wondering who the man was talking about.

Bel punched him one in the arm.

“Ouch!”

“He’s talking about you y’owd pie-can!”

“Me? But me name’s not Qua …!”

Poke.

“Ouch!”

“The special award goes to our … er … friend Quasi sitting over there for his brilliant send-up of the son of Saddam Hussein, Qysay! Come and get your prize Quasi! You look fantastically ridiculous yet again!”

“But me name’s not Qua …!”

“It’s good to see that you don’t have a crutch with you this time!”

Poke.

“Ouch!”

He received a bottle of Moselle wine, but before he was allowed to return to his seat the Landlord spoke to him again.

“The last time you won a prize here Quasi you gave us a little recitation. Do you have another little pearl, another little gem perhaps that might give us another thought for the day?”

Bel frowned.

“I have that. Bel, Bel, is it alright if I say me poem?”

“It’s not that one about when yer frikky, is it?”

“No Bel. I made up a proper poem all by meself while ya was away.”

“Well wot’s it about ya daft owd ditch rat? It’s the first I’ve heard of it!”

“Well it’s all about …”

“Oh for goodness sake just get on with it!” yelled the customers.

“I will in a minute burrave got to have my Bel’s permission otherwise she’ll gimme a good hammerin’ later on!”

“Give it to me to read first then!”

“No! I want to read it out to everybody!”

[SIZE=“3”]“For crying out bloody loud just get on with it!”[/SIZE]

“Alreet then. Is it okay then Bel?”

She nodded with a scowl on her face.

“Just don’t bluddy well sing it!”

He looked around at everyone and noticed that they were all patiently waiting for him to begin, smirks all over their faces.

He started his poem.

[CENTER]The Eastern world is exploding again
Has Anna bin laid on and Mad Sam insane?[/CENTER]

Snicker, titter!

[CENTER]If they don’t lay their weapons, down in Iraq
Then there will be no turning back
To war we will go with Turds and with Sh!tes[/CENTER]

Snicker, titter!

[CENTER]To fight for world peace and show them our might
If they don’t behave though we’ll give 'em a smack
So just ger’agate all of you in Iraq[/CENTER]

“Amma alreet so far Bel?”

She nodded.

[B][I][CENTER]And so we will send in our soldiers, our boys
And then we can all cheer and make lots of noise
Bur’if that Mad Sam lets loose all his germs
We’ll have nowt fot ayte so we’ll have fot ayte worms

And so to recap, I think it’s quite reet
To ler’em all know that we will not be beat
With tanks and with Yanks and Aussies and Brits
We’ll go kick the balls out o’ them lickle sh!ts[/CENTER][/I][/B]

He looked around him again blushing and saw that the smirks had disappeared.

[CENTER]We’ll paste the life out o’ them till they stop
We’ll smack ‘em an’ crack ‘em until they just drop
We’ll batter the hell out o’ them and attack
And we’ll win the war on them lot in Iraq![/CENTER]

He screwed his paper up and put it in his pocket then clomped and squelched noisily off the stage with everyone, once again, staring open mouthed at him in silence.

Then someone started clapping at the back of the room. It was Bel.

“Bravo, bravo!”

Everybody else started to join in then, realising that this feeble attempt at poetry was very meaningful and had been put together by someone who wasn’t a full shilling.

He does love his poetry.

Bel had tears in her eyes as she knew full well that it must have taken him ages to conjure up the will and determination to put those thoughts down on paper, even if it was daft. It was the Crusty way of saying his bit.

As it sunk in with everybody, they each in turn started to clap and the noise was incredible. Then they all stood and cheered Crusty for what seemed like an eternity.

“Bel, Bel help me Bel. Woravva done wrong now Bel?”

She went over to him, still clapping, and put her good arm around his shoulders, escorting him off the stage.

“Ya’ve done nowt wrong owd lad. Ya’ve done summat good for a bluddy change! That wasn’t at all bad for a chimp. Ya know wot they say Crusty? If ya tek an infinite number o’ monkeys, and an infinite number of typewriters, eventually one of 'em’ll write all the works of Shakespeare!!”

“Who’s Shakespeare? Yer laffin’ at me again Bel. Canna go home now please now tharrave got me prize?”

“Alreet owd lad. Ya couldn’t run me home could ya?”

Eh?

“I thought ya never wanted to be seen in me lickle Noddy car Bel!”

“Oh I don’t in’t dayleet, bur’if we sneak off now while nobody’s watching they’ll not see me ger’in yer car, and it is dark now!”

“Oh reet. Okay then.”

With a lot of effort, they both managed to squeeze into the front of the car and he drove her home then, once there, she invited him in for a nice cup of tea.

As they sat in her kitchen she was considering the poem he’d written, very carefully.

“Crusty?”

“Worisit Bel. Havva bin bad again?”

“No lad. Ya said that ya’d written yer poem while I were away. Wot made ya think of that subject at that particular time?”

“Dunno really Bel. I kept watching out on’t news for ya but there was nowt. I’d a feeling that ya’d gone to sort out that Mad Sam Insane until they said th’Army had caught him an’ thar’ugly woman wi’t long straggly beard!”

“I see!”

What a strange coincidence. Was Crusty now showing signs of extra sensory perception?

No! It couldn’t be that. He couldn’t have EXTRA senses because he had none to start off with, and his idea of perception was to be the first one to smell his own farts!

What was it then?

Were they now entering into a weird sort of Twilight Zone?

Maybe he’d just been touched by an Angel!

Or maybe he was just touched in the head!!

© Mollie M
23.03.03

[marpaul]

Another good read Mollie. Laughed my head off when Bel hauled the meter man in thinking it was Crusty Loved his poem, didn’t he do well, and bless him he thought he’d done something wrong

[Mollie]

Cheers Marian. You know, any time you want to comment in the negative about my stories, please feel free to do so as you won’t upset me, but may give me thought as to how I might make my stories better.

[Berxer]

Like Marian said, another good read there. That was funny when Bel turned on the meter man I love it when Crusty wins prizes when he doesn’t go all out to win them.

I can’t think of any negative comments myself - you are so clever writing all those stories.

[Mollie]

Thank you Carmen, that means a great deal to me.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]105

The Garden Centre
(and Very Special Plants!)[/CENTER][/B]

Dring, dring. Dring, dring.

“Hello, Crustabel Leekey speaking.”

“Good morrow Bel. This is Crusty Nibbleswick speaking from his telephone in his lickle hallway at 13 Bakewell Drive, or at least I think it is, burrall go an’ check if ya likes!”

“Good morrow Crusty, ya don’t need to check. I were just thinking about you!”

“I know, that’s why I gid yer a ring. Worisit ya wants me fo’?”

Bel just stared open-mouthed down the phone. How could he possibly have known she was thinking about him?

“Alreet owd smarty arty farty pants! If ya knew I were thinking about ya, wot were I thinking about?”

“Neh then, let me see. Is it summat to do wi’ goin’ to’t garding centre again Bel?”

Her huge jaw dropped down onto the glass table with a thud, which formed a huge crack in it. That’s exactly what she was going to suggest.

“Yes lad it is. How did ya know?”

“Well, I suppose it’s ‘cos I se’ed the sun shining, the birds were singing an’ it looked like the sort o’ day we’d go to’t garding centre, that’s all!”

“Okay then. I’ll pick y’up in an hour. I need to re-stock some of me plants for spring an’ I’ll get you a few treats as well like a farty little garden gnome or summat. Okay lad?”

“Oooh goody! Reet Bel. See ya in an hour then!”

He started his mad scuttle around tidying up. He got a damp cloth from the kitchen and “dusted” his furniture, then dried it all off with a grubby tea cloth.

She arrived on time and, seeing she was in the Volvo, his eyes lit up.

“Have ya brought a feed wi’ ya Bel?”

“I have owd lad. Butties, pies, barms an’ a flask o’ tea! We’ll make a day of it shall we owd fettler?”

“Bluddy beltin’ Bel!”

They drove over to the large garden centre in Ormskirk and, as it was a gorgeous day, there were a lot of people there, all with the same thoughts as Bel and Crusty.

For the middle of March it was indeed a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and there was no wind. It was nice and warm too, and it just made you think that finally spring was on the way after the snow and ice of just a few weeks before.

They had a trolley, with which Crusty was zooming all over the place, dashing here and there to see what sort of plants he could have and making people jump out of his way as he went, as he tried to mow them down.

“Well Crusty. Have ya seen owt ya fancy owd lad?”

“Not yet Bel burrave heard o’ one on a gardinging programme tharra think I might like, burrave not seen one anywhere yet an’a don’t know wot they look like either!”

“Worisit called lad?”

By now he’d darted off again, but he just caught the question so he shouted over the other side of the pots of rose bushes, which were yards away.

[SIZE=“3”]“I wants one o’ them Penus Flytraps Bel? Will ya buy me a Penus Flytrap please Bel?” [/SIZE]

Several people had heard him. In fact, most people within a two mile radius had heard him, and some of them burst out laughing but some were disgusted, especially two little old ladies whose daughters had taken them for a nice day out straight after church!

“Shut yer bluddy hole shouting like that, and get round here!”

He obediently scurried back to his Bel. She sounded annoyed with him for something, but he couldn’t fathom out what it was. Screeching to a halt at her side again on all fours, he grinned shyly up at her like a little monkey, banana in hand.

“Wossup? Worrava done wrong now Bel?”

“Don’t keep shouting yer bluddy daft talk out like that, ya red-arsed pigmy, and stand up proper. People think yer bluddy daft? Where did ya get that banana from?”

“Burra yam daft Bel aren’t I? Ya keeps telling me I am anyway! I’ve started keeping a banana down’t front of me trousers for when I ger’ungry!”

She pulled a face.

“Ya shouted summat out that’s not very nice while ya were over there. It’s a VENUS Flytrap ya meant!”

His eyes welled up with tears and his bottom lip started trembling.

“Burra cawn’t go all’t way to Venus just for a plant Bel! It were bad enough when I were on me way up to Mars that time when that aeroplane clod me out, but in’t Venus a bit further than that, an’ad need a space ship to get theer? Will ya buy me one Bel?”

Pelt!!

“Shaddap ya daft looking sod! It’s no bluddy wonder Soreen buggered off an’ left ya! In any case, wot d’ya want a Venus Flytrap for?”

“Well they’re a bit like me in a way as they grab out at stuff t’ayte, so I thowt we might have summat in common an’ ickle gimme summat to talk to when yer busy!!”

“Aye well, I suppose yer nearer to plant life than human anyway. Ya could probably ger’a proper conversation out o’ one o’ them. We’ll have a look and see if they’ve got one, burra think ya’ve got to keep ‘em in a greenhouse, and ya’ve not got one o’ them!”

“Well ya’ll just have’t buy me a greenhouse’t pur’it in then!”

Pelt!

“Ouch!”

They didn’t find one, but Bel made him a promise.

“I’ll tell ya worrall do owd lad. One day next week I’ll make ya a Venus flytrap out o’ some bits and pieces. I’ll make it so as it grabs out at stuff whenever ya goes near it. It’ll give ya summat to play with, okay?”

“Ta Bel, bur’it won’t be’t same.”

She smirked sardonically at him.

“No, it’ll be better!”

Over the next week Bel could be found in her large shed tinkering with some bits and pieces! She had cogs and wheels, nuts and bolts, oddments of rubber, pieces of metal and a few sets of metal jaws, all which she welded together to make a six-inch wide mouth with sharp teeth, and a small passive infra red eye which reacted when anything passed by. It took her several days to make, and after she’d wired it up, she plugged it in and tested it by waving her hand in front of it.

She sat back for a moment and admired her handy work, then had a little snicker.

It worked a treat, but she needed to test it properly on something human shaped, so she got her tailor’s dummy from her workroom and tried it out, making a few minor adjustments.

Whirrrr, click, screech, snap, whirrr, click, screech, snap!

Perfect!

She’d made it almost in accordance with the general shape of Crusty’s chosen plant, a picture of which she’d found in one of her gardening books, but with a BIG difference.

Finally, she spray painted it and made it look pretty, dressing it up in bits of cotton wool and fringing then placed it neatly in a box which she parcelled up and posted to Crusty. She had a huge happy beam on her face as she handed it in over the post office counter for them to weigh, then paid and walked out!

“That’ll make his bluddy eyes water! Neh then, that’s given me a bit of an appetite.”

She called in at the Loaf About just as Crusty was in mid-whoosh, so wickedly she put out her foot, which he tripped over. There were plates, saucers, cups and all sorts crashing down in a heap all around him.

It favvered a Greek wedding!

“Oops, sorry owd lad. Didn’t see ya whooshing about! Ya were goin’ that bluddy fast ya were just a blur!”

He got up off the floor and grinned, feeling daft.

“Hiya Bel. Have ya come for some brekkie?”

“I have that lad, I’m bluddy hungry!”

“Me too! Can I have a hanch as well?”

“No, you’re working so ger’agate.”

The next morning a parcel was delivered to 13 Bakewell Drive, Pemberton and Crusty was asked to sign for it.

After the postman had gone, he just stood there turning it this way and that, shaking it, sniffing it to see if it was a food parcel and eventually, after a lot of deliberating, he ripped the brown paper off to reveal a box inside.

He sniffed at it again then started unpeeling the four hundred yards of cellotape that Bel had wound around it, snickering as she went and finally, after a lot of frustration, he got the box open and looked in.

“Worisit? I cawn’t understand why somebody’d send me a prezzie of a dolly without any instructions to follow, not tharrad understand 'em anyway. I wonder who’s sent it.”

He searched for a note, but found none then he picked up the object and sniffed at it again to see if it was edible. He then noticed the plug on the end so he plugged it into the wall socket. It was approximately twenty inches tall and quite heavy, and to Crusty it looked like a mechanical plant but with arms and legs.

[Mollie]

“Ah! That’s woritis! My Bel said her’d make me a penus flytrap. Her’s proper clever my Bel, bur’it’s bluddy ugly. I didn’t know they looked like this! I wonder wor’it does. Weer d’ya switch it on? Oh aye, there’s a lickle button here!”

Excitedly, he stood the robot on his kitchen worktop and as he switched on the button he bent down, elbows on the worktop, chin resting in his hands, so his face was four inches away so he could see what it did.

Whirrr, click, screech.

It lit up in pretty colours and there was one big eye staring at him, which blinked every three seconds. Then it spoke in a monotone, which sounded remarkably like his Bel’s voice.

[FONT=“Fixedsys”]“Good morning Crusty. My name is Venus the Penus Flytrap and I am here for you to play with!”[/FONT]

Crusty was delighted. It spoke to him!

“Oh hiya. My name’s Crusty!”

[FONT=“Fixedsys”]“I know it is ya daft lookin’ arsehole!”[/FONT]

Just then, as Crusty was waiting for it to say something else, it swiftly moved forward and the pair of metal jaws that Bel had welded together opened and extended quickly forward, just like a scene from the film Alien.

It grabbed hold of Crusty’s bountiful conk then the sharp metal teeth clamped shut again with a SNAP, leaving Crusty with eyes flowing like Victoria Falls and screaming in agony.

He tried to get it off, but couldn’t so, with the robot still attached to his nose, he ran into his little hallway, robot swinging from side to side making him whelp, and dialled Bel’s number.

The answering machine kicked in and her voice sounded just like Crusty’s robot!

“Hello this is Crustabel Leekey but I’m not in right now. Please either leave your name and number for me to call you back or ring my mobile number … If you are in absolute torture and you need to see me immediately, ger’into yer farty lickle Noddy car and pop over to my office and I’ll see ya there y’owd sod. The address I’ll be at today is …”

Crusty had listened carefully to the specially set up message. He wrote her work address down then threw the old black jacket on and rushed out to his little car.

“Neh, in’t thar’amashing how that dolly’sh voish shounded just like my Bel’sh!”

It took him over an hour to reach her offices which were only fifteen minutes away, but once there he leapt out of the vehicle and rushed into the large building where
he whooshed to a stop at the desk that said RECEPTION. That was as far as he could go.

A pretty young lady had had her back to her desk whilst she filed away some papers and on turning, she screeched when she saw Crusty standing there with a robot dangling from his nose.

“I’ve come’t shee my Bel. Tell my Crushtabel I’m here’t shee her!”

“Jusht a … just a moment please sir.”

She pushed a button on the intercom.

“Yes Vanda!”

“Bel, Bel, ish that you Crushtabel?”

The secretary gave him a withering look.

“Miss Leekey, there’s a gentleman here at reception and I know you’ll probably think I’m mad, but he’s got what looks like a toy robot dangling from his nose and he’s wearing a crash helmet. He looks like he’s just come out of the trenches from World War I! He’s asked to see you and he looks as if he’s in a great deal of pain. Shall I show him through?”

“Is he wearing a smelly, sh!tty looking owd black jacket and did he squelch as he came in?”

“Bel, Bel. I con hear ya burra cawn’t shee ya. Are ya hiding from me?”

“Yes that’s right Miss Leekey. Shall I show him through then?”

“Yes please Vanda!”

The secretary, squeezing her nostrils tightly between finger and thumb, told Crusty to follow her, and he shambled behind her as fast as he could, trying to stop the robot from swinging from side to side, and yelling as he went.

“Bel, Bel, where are ya Bel? Oh Crushta - bel, Bel, help me pleashe Bel! Your Crushty needsh yer help again!”

Suddenly, Vanda stopped and Crusty walked into the back of her, sending her sprawling and banging her nose on the wall. A door to their left opened and there stood Bel, bottom lip curled down, arms folded and foot tapping the carpet, then she helped her receptionist up off the floor.

“Are you alright Vanda?”

“Yesh thanksh Mish Leekey. I think I’d besht go and have a wash. There’sh a funny shmell round here!”

“Okay lass!”

“Thanksh Vandal. Wor’a funny name! Hiya Bel!”

Bel stared at Crusty for a good thirty seconds, then grabbed him by the neck and hauled him into her office.

She shook her head and tutted. She couldn’t believe it, although really, she should!

“Stop bluddy squawkin’ all o’er’t place. Ya sound weel. I can’t bluddy believe ya’d actually ger’in yer car and drive o’er here wi’ that bluddy thing dangling from yer piggy owd snout!”

“Burra cawn’t ger’it off Bel. It’sh shtuck fasht. Did ya know it were goin’t do thish to me? Ish it another punishment? Me poor owd noshe ish alwaysh gerrin a clobbering for shummat or another!”

“Shurrup wi’ yer bluddy chelp! Ya must’ve getten too close to it, ya daft looking sod! It weren’t meant to grab yer snout, it were meant to grab ya someweer else. Come here!”

She’d known very well what was going to happen and snickered silently.

He was beyond all hope!

She managed to get the thing off him by using brute force, and told him to put it somewhere nice in his living room, if he could find anywhere nice, to remind him that he shouldn’t keep shouting out in public.

“Reet Bel. Am shorry. I didn’t know I were goin’t get punished jusht for that! Were it a real naughty only am shtill not sure worra shed wrong!”

“Watch my bluddy lips! IT’S A V…ENUS FLYTRAP. Now you say it!”

“V…enush Flytrap. Ish that right Bel. Did I shay it good thish time?”

“It’ll do. Now bugger off wom. I’m busy!”

“Reet Bel. How do I ger’out of here now. We came along a lorra corridorsh! Ya’d besht get shomebody’t show me out or I might get losht like I did in th’oshpickal that time an’a nearly blew it up. D’ya remember that?”

“I do! … Vanda, I know you’re busy pet, but can you come to my office and escort Mr Nibbleswick off the premises. We don’t want him wandering round all over everywhere and stinking the place out, now do we?”

“Mishter Nibbleshwick? Yesh of courshe Mish Leekey. I’ll be jusht a minute!”

A couple of minutes later the receptionist arrived at Bel’s office and, with Bel’s trusty Crusty peg on her throbbing nose, she got him off the premises in double quick time!

“Thanksh lash. Ta very muchly!”

“It’sh alright Mishter Nibbleshwick. You’d besht follow me from behind and don’t get losht!”

“Reet lash, you lead the way and I’ll keep in shtep reet behind ya!”

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

Poor Crusty really does get himself into some scrapes! After he’d been escorted off Bel’s work premises, it took him three quarters of an hour to find his car on the shopping centre sized car park, and then got stuck in the traffic jam going in and out of the industrial estate as the shifts were changing.

On hearing her trucks and other vehicles honking at the front, Bel had watched him from her office window going round and round in circles over the one-way system, the wrong way, and causing absolute mayhem. It was him that had caused the traffic jam! The truckers were not best pleased with him, and they taught him quite a few new hand and finger signals that Crusty had never seen before!

Then, halfway home, he ran out of petrol and had to scamper off trying to find a petrol station. He walked the same way the car was pointing and the next filling station was three miles away. If he’d turned and gone back on himself he’d have realised that he’d just passed one a hundred yards back up the road.

Poor bugger!

Anyway he eventually got home but called at the chip shop first for his tea!

“Shteak and kidney pudding, chipsh and mushy peysh pleashe luv!”

He took them home wearily, resenting having to pay out for food when he had some in, but he was too knackered to be bothered opening a tin. Miserably, he sat at his scummy kitchen table eating out of the newspaper. That was one of his cunning plans to avoid washing up! He’d just finished slurping the mushy peas, which he’d tipped into his mouth straight from the carton, when his phone rang.

“Hello who’sh that shpeaking and wot d’ya want me for? I were jusht aytein’ me tay when’t phone rang sho I’ve nor’a clue who y’are, burrave gor’a shneaking feelin’ that thish ish Crushty Nibbleshwick shpeaking, burrall check in’t mirror!”

He put the phone down on its side and plodded over to his Mel Gibson mirror and looked, tutted, then went upstairs to look in his bathroom mirror, and plodded back again passing the tiger rug on his way down.

He picked up the phone again.

“Hello, yesh thish ish definitely Crushty. Wot d’ya want me for?”

“Have you quite finished buggering about?”

“Oh, hiya Bel. Ish that you?”

“No, it’s Queen Elizabeth the Second!”

[Mollie]

He started curtseying, bowing and scraping.

"Oh, how do yer Majeshty! How can Crushty Nibbleshwick be of ashishtansh to you thish evening?

She rolled up her eyes.

“Shaddap and listen for a bluddy change, ya daft owd dimwit! Neh then, I want ya to be ready to be picked up from the Loaf About at half past one tomorrow. We’re goin’ someweer!”

“Oh, it ish you Bel! Burra finish at one Bel. Wockle I do for half an hour?”

“Get summat ayte. That’ll pass time on!”

“Okay Bel. Weer are we goin’?”

“It’s a surprise. How’s yer snout?”

“Oh, it’sh not sho bad now, bur’it shtill hurtsh and throbsh a bit!”

“Good. See ya tomorrer!”

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

At one thirty the next day Bel came jingling into the cafe and spotted Crusty straight away, sat on his own (naturally) in a corner with the owd black jacket festooned around his shoulders and a mopped clean plate in front of him.

“Come on wi’ ya. Off we go!”

“Just coming Bel.”

[B][I][SIZE=“3”]W h o o s h!

Zoooooom[/SIZE][/I][/B]!

“Weer’s yer car Bel? Which have ya come in? Weer are we goin’? Worra ya buying me this time Bel?”

“No car today. I haven’t come in one. I’m not tellin’ ya, and I’m buying ya nowt! Have I answered all yer questions?”

“Yis Bel, but how have ya gor’ere if ya’ve not come in a car?”

“Taxi! Well let’s get goin’!”

He lolloped along behind her trying to keep up with her long strides until they reached a bus stop.

“Worra we stoppin’ here for Bel?”

“We’re catching a bus, that’s why!”

“A bus! Yer not gerrin me on a bus Bel!”

The bus arrived just then, before Bel could reply or lamp him one, and the doors swished open. She grabbed hold of the back of his scummy neck and shoved him forward onto the waiting vehicle while he struggled and tripped over the step.

The doors swished closed.

“Weer’s yer bus pass Crusty?”

“I’ve not gor’it wi’ me. I didn’t know I were goin’ on a bus! Lemme off this bus reet now or I’ll stamp me feet and fart!”

She punched him one in his cauliflower ear, which by now was the size of a cauliflower, then turned to the driver who was losing patience with them.

“Alreet then, two to Southport please!”

Crusty’s eyes lit up and he calmed down. He loved Southport.

She gave the driver the money and they thundered to the back of the bus where Bel pushed Crusty down into a seat, in which he immediately started bouncing.

[B][I]“Weer’s me seat belt? I need a seat belt an’a want me crash helmet! Have we gor’owt t’ayte?”

“Shaddap whingin’ ya bluddy owd red-arsed baboon! Shut yer gob till we get there!”[/I][/B]

The other passengers shifted uncomfortably in their seats wondering what else these two would do on the long journey to Southport.

[B][I]“Burrave not browt me colouring book and crayons, or me yoyo! Wockle I do to keep meself quiet?”

“I’ll bluddy well gag ya in a minute if ya don’t shurrup!”

“Why are we goin’t Southport on’t bus Bel? Why aren’t we goin’ in one o’ yer cars?”

“Because I’m goin’t get summat in Southport that we’ll be driving back with!!”[/I][/B]

He was quiet for about thirty seconds and sat twiddling his thumbs and making squelching noises with his feet.

“I want to go upsteers Bel. Can we go upsteers?”

“No we can’t. Sit still and shurrup!”

[B][I]“Burra want to look outside from upsteers. We’ll see more from up theer and thackle keep me quiet!!”

“Alreet then. Come on!”[/I][/B]

They got up, pounded up the full length of the bus again making it rattle, and climbed the stairs. They were the only people up there and Crusty started whooshing about from one end to the other, putting the driver off his concentration.

They both sat down on one side of the bus for a minute and the driver detected a definite tilt to that side.

Suddenly he heard a terrible commotion from upstairs, like someone running around again and being slapped about, with a voice bellowing.

[B][I]“If ya don’t sit ya dehn now I’ll shove a red hot prater up yer arse!! Thackle make yer bluddy eyes water!”

“Well if ya do I’ll only fart it out again!”

Thwack!!

Sulk![/I][/B]

The other passengers downstairs waited for more but it didn’t come. After that there was a peaceful trip to Southport.

Once the bus pulled into the bus station they alighted, and Bel started to stride up the road until they came to a bike shop.

“Ah, good afternoon Miss Leekey. Have you come to collect your bike?”

“I have that lad. Is it all ready for me? I’m looking forward to riding it home.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll just get someone to wheel it out to the front for you then it’s all yours. We’ve carried out the special modifications and put extra strength in the frame and wheels as requested. There’s not a lot of call for these bikes, these days. Do enjoy yourself riding it, won’t you?”

“Thanks very much. Come on Crusty.”

“Weer are we goin’ now then Bel?”

“Wom!”

“But we’ve only just gor’ere. Can we not go to the fairground and ger’a hot dog or a burger or summat? Am bluddy hungry!”

“No we can’t. I’ve got to get me bike back home an’a need you to help me!”

He started to get worried.

“Is it a new motor bike yer gerrin then Bel, only I’ve not got me crash helmet wi’ me?”

“No, it’s nor’a motor bike. It’s a bicycle!”

“Havva got to walk all’t way wom while you ride yer bike then?”

She didn’t answer him, but she did have a big grin on her face.

“Is this another punishment Bel? I’m all punishmented out!”

They walked outside of the shop onto the road where there was a gleaming, brand new bicycle.

It was a tandem!

“Reet lad, you ger’on’t back an’ I’ll ger’on’t front and we’ll get goin’. It’ll tek us a few hours’t get wom on this!”

“But Bel!”

“But nowt - ger’on!”

© Mollie M
26.03.03

[marpaul]

Enjoyed that chapter Mollie, especially Crusty with the robot dangling from his nose which I thought would happen I wasn’t expecting Bel to get them a tandum though, I was expecting her to drive a lorry back from Southport :-D:-D Just cannot imagine them on a tandum, bet Crusty whinges all the way home

[Berxer]

That was funny! Can just picture them both on a tandem…hope Crusty removed his banana though otherwise it would end up a knickerbocker glory.

[Mollie]

Thanks for your comments ladies. I think you’ll enjoy what he does next.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]106

A Bikecycle Made for Two
(and They Have a Bumpy Ride!)[/CENTER][/B]

Reluctantly, and with great difficulty, he threw his leg over the new bike almost rupturing his undercarriage, taking the rear position as instructed by his Bel. His crusticles stretched to the limit (which made his eyes water) and the saddle cut harshly between his legs (which made his eyes water). His feet only just touched the ground so he had to stand on his tippy toes with the cross-bar between his legs to keep the bike upright (which made his eyes water) then he waited for her to get on, which took some doing.

The Staff in the bike shop was having a whale of a time watching them both trying to get on and balance, and were tittering away from the safety of the shop window.

“Bluddy hell. I never thowt it’d be such hard work just gerrin on a bluddy bike! I could do wi’ a step ladder’t climb on! I can’t get me bluddy leg o’er!”

She managed to heave herself on, and the tyres promptly went down with a hiss front and back but they held, then with one foot on the ground and one on a pedal she started hopping along the road until she finally managed lift off and got them going, front wheel wobbling in protest.

Getting quickly used to the weight of the machine, they got out of Southport Centre and soon found themselves in open farming country enjoying the fresh air and warm sunshine.

She hadn’t realised that pedalling a tandem was going to be this difficult either, but being strong she endured, feeling sure the reason was because she drove almost everywhere and the muscles in her legs would need to be developed even more!

Crusty called over to her.

[B][I]“Shall we sing some songs as we go along Bel?”

“Aye, why not! Wot d’ya want to sing owd lad?”

“Nellie the Ephelant! I likes Nellie the Ephelant Bel!”[/I][/B]

She rolled up her eyes.

“Alreet. You start an’ I’ll join in.”

He started squawking on the back seat.

[B][I][CENTER]Nellie the Ephelant packed her trunk
And said goodbye to the circus
Off she went with a trumpety trump

Paaarp, paaarp, paaarp![/CENTER][/I][/B]

[B][I]“Sorry Bel. I didn’t know I were goin’t do that!”

“Yer a nasty-arsed owd sod yer nowt else! It’s a good job we’re out-bluddy-side. Phew, wot’s bin aytein’? Have ya bin at them Brussels sprouts again? Let’s get goin’ faster and see if we can out-run the stink!”[/I][/B]

She started pedalling faster and faster, hunched down till her nose almost touched the handle bars, until they were whizzing along at about thirty miles an hour, the wind sweeping their hair back, which they found to be very exhilarating.

Crusty had gone quiet for a while for which she was truly thankful. She presumed he was watching the passing fields and looking at the nice moo cows and sheep, plus the fact that there was no doubt in her mind that his prehensile tongue was now dangling out from the exertion, catching flies!

She called to him over her shoulder.

“Wot d’ya think of it then owd lad?”

Silence!

“Crusty?”

Silence!

“Crusty. Speyk up owd lad!”

Still no reply! She couldn’t turn round fully as she was too fat, so she brought the bike to a standstill then looked round.

He’d gone, and there was no sign of him for as far as the eye could see.

“Where the bluddy hell’s he getten to now the festerin’ owd fart? We’re all-bluddy-reet here!”

She turned the bike round and cycled back the way she’d come, and found him two miles back sitting on the side of the road, full of dust and cross legged with his thumb in his mouth and his eight strands dangling on his left shoulder.

“Wot the bluddy hell are ya doin’ sitting theer?”

“Sorry Bel. I were havin’ a bit of a nod an’a fawd off’t bike! I took a bit of a tumble o’er theer an’am covered in bruises again. Will I get back on now?”

“Wor’a bluddy shame! Ya daft owd dingbat!”

She held out her hand to help him to his feet.

“Come on wi’ ya. We’ll never get bluddy wom at this rate! Wot d’ya mean ya were havin’ a bit of a nod anyway?”

“Well I were enjoying it that much I just started feelin’ a bit dopey!”

“Thar’allers bluddy dopey! Ger’on’t soddin’ bike!”

He heaved himself over the cross-bar again, crusticles stretching (which made his eyes water) and off they took, still with at least fifteen miles to go.

They looked bloody comical. There were two enormous backsides dangling over each bicycle saddle on both sides, and the poor bike was groaning and creaking with the weight. It looked like it might snap in two at any moment.

“Wor’ave ya gor’in yer carrier bags Bel? Have ya browt a bit o’ snap wi’ ya, only am bluddy hungry!”

“Thar’allers bluddy hungry an’ all. Let’s ger’another five mile done and then we’ll stop for some jack bit!”

“Reet Bel. Let’s get goin’ faster then shall we?”

“Ya greedy owd bugger!”

The pedals started whirring around again building up more and more speed and soon they’d covered the five miles, which Bel had set as a stopping time so they pulled over at Lathom.

“Reet lad. Off ya get. It’s nice here so we can sit at the side of the road and get summat etten. I could ayte a bluddy owd palliasse!”

“Fither mattresses are most tasteyful an’ all Bel!”

They got off the bike and Bel took a carrier bag off each handle bar. Crusty had noticed them on the bus to Southport and that was why he’d made such a fuss, but Bel knew they’d need these coming back. He’d tried to snatch them off her and started peylin’ about on the bus in his bid to escape, so she’d just walloped him one, gave him a banana and it was that which had quietened him down.

There they sat in the late afternoon sun, munching in Bel’s case and hanching in Crusty’s.

“They’re bluddy good these Bel (gobble, hanch). I luvs boilt ham and cheyse 'gether on a butty I!”[/I]

“Stop bluddy talking wi’ yer gob full. Woravva towd ya before about that?”

“Sorry Bel, I!”[/I]

They polished off all the food Bel had provided which, incidentally, would really have been enough for a family of five then they drank the three litre vacuum flask of tea dry, and packed up the rubbish.

“Bel?”

“Wot?”

“I were just wondering. When is it my turn’t do some pedalling? D’ya want me’t do some to give yer owd legs a rest?”

Her hand that held the last meat pie stopped in mid-air just she was just about to take a bite, when he came out with his last statement, and she tried to take in what he’d just said.

[SIZE=“3”]“Wot d’ya mean, when’s it your turn’t do some pedalling? D’ya mean to tell me that ya’ve just sat at the bluddy back theer like Lord Muck of Sh!t Mountain and let me do all’t bluddy graftin’? No wonder it were such bluddy hard work!”[/SIZE]

“Well ya never said. All you said were for me’t ger’on’t back. Ya never said I had to do some pedalling as well!”

She rolled up her eyes then lamped him one.

“Tek that ya fat lazy owd fart! Neh then, thee ger’on’t front this time so as I can make sure yer doin’ your share! I’ll teach ya a bluddy lesson o’er this!”

Sulk!

“In a minute Bel. I need a pee before we carry on!”

“Well get gone! Make it a long one so we’ll nor’ave’t stop half a dozen times!”

“I’ll try!”

He was gone what seemed like ages so Bel shouted to him.

“Crusty worra ya doin’ behind that bluddy bush? Yer not playin’ at firemen wi’t th’owd Mister Floppy again are ya?”

“Just coming Bel!”

He cringed. She always had an uncanny knack of knowing exactly what he was doing.

They continued their journey, this time both of them pedalling away. They hadn’t gone a hundred yards when Crusty’s tongue flopped out with the exertion and started wafting away in the breeze, and he slopped all over the front handlebars of Bel’s nice new bike. At one point it flew over his shoulder like a scarf batting Bel in the eye!

“Get yer bluddy tung back in yer yed!”

“Sorry Bel!”

[Mollie]

He rolled it up with his fingers from the end and tucked it back into his mouth.

Finally, they got to Parbold Hill, which is extremely steep, and as they started to climb, Bel took her feet off the pedals and sat and watched Crusty from behind. As they climbed, the back of his neck got redder and redder and his legs started to gradually slow down, pedalling with jerky movements until, halfway up, the bike was almost at a standstill, the front wheel wobbling and the two of them trying to balance on the almost stationary bike.

“Keep goin’ lad!”

“Bluddy hell! It’s hard work this Bel, climbing up this hill. How’re ya doin’ owd lass?”

Bel’s eyes were watering now, her body shaking with laughter, and she was grinning her head off.

Wor’a bluddy shame!

“I’m doin’ alreet owd fettler! Just keep goin’ lad. Don’t stop pedalling now or we’ll rowl back down’t bluddy hill then we’ll have’t start all o’er again. We’re nearly theer. Just a few more yards and we’ll be at the top!”

His skinny little legs strained with the steepness of the hill and the weight he was pulling behind him. His eyes were standing out like organ stops, his face was twisted into all shapes, his heart was banging like a drum and his legs were killing him. They’d turned to jelly with the effort and were wobbling away.

[B][I]“Bel, Bel, help me Bel. I cawn’t manage it. Can we not ger’off and walk up?”

“No we bluddy well cawn’t! We’re nearly theer now so keep going, stop yappin’ and save yer breath, ya lazy owd bugger!”[/I][/B]

Once they got to the top of the hill she made him stop the bike for a rest.

“Un-mount!”

He got off the bike and tried to walk, legs wackering. He looked like he’d getten a sweigh on, and his lungs were like a pair of owd bellows. He huffed and he puffed and he panted and moaned and he was sweating like the proverbial pig.

Wheeeeze!!

They sat on the dry-stone wall for a while and, whilst he got his breath back she went and got them a bottle of pop each then they sat together and they looked out at the panoramic vista that was laid out before them. The view was absolutely splendid and it reminded Bel of that time when she’d sat in her car listening to Crusty’s crappy version of “Angels”.

It seemed so long ago now and so much had happened since then, but that was the last time she’d actually been up here just to enjoy the scenery although she only lived a few miles away.

“Reet lad. Are ya fit to go on now? We’ve not so far to go now lad!”

“Huff, puff, pant, snort, huff, puff, pant, snort, WHEEZE!”

“Not yet Bel. Givvus another quarter of an hour!”

“Ger’on’t bluddy bike ya whingin’ lazy owd sod!”

Once more they clambered aboard and Crusty started pedalling again, downhill this time, skinny little legs going like the clappers.

“Crusty! Tek them smelly owd feet off them bluddy pedals! We’re goin’ about ninety mile an hour! We don’t need to pedal goin’ downhill ya daft lookin’ bugger!”

It was true what she said and as Crusty overtook his fifth car on the wrong side of the road, he lifted his smelly feet off the pedals and they coasted down, still at breakneck speed, whizzing and leaning into the bends like Evel Knievel!

[B][I]“Bluddy hell Crusty! I don’t go this fast on me motorbike. Slow down!!”

“A cawn’t!”[/I][/B]

As they neared the bottom they tried to stop the tandem at the crossroads but they were going too fast. On and on they zoomed straight through, leaving half a dozen cars screeching and honking.

They screamed past Wrightington Hospital, whooshed over the lake and almost lost it at the top of the little bridge when the bike temporarily left the road and they were pedalling away in mid air.

The bike dropped back onto the road again a hundred yards further on without losing speed and, managing to keep their balance, shot past the turn off for Mawdesley and then they found themselves going down the slip road to the motorway. The muscles in their faces were wackering away like astronauts do when they reach a certain velocity.

Of course, Crusty was at the front and he was the one steering! Bel had no control over the front wheel and she was yelling at him and thumping him on his back to stop, but Crusty couldn’t!

Their combined weight, and the fact they were travelling steeply downhill, had motioned the bike on faster than normal and the brakes were just not sufficient to stop a payload of close on thirty-five stone of human beings.

Luckily, Crusty had one of his rare brainwaves and managed to stop the bike just before they joined the M6 to Birmingham by doing an emergency crash landing in a ditch.

He sat there quaking with stagnant ditch water running down his face and bits of grass entwined in his eight strands.

She too had gone down with a bump and sat there in her voluminous floral frock, both of them none the worse for their ordeal, however, the bike was a twisted, mangled heap and would have to be taken to the repair shop, and she hadn’t had it four hours yet, all because of Crusty!

She said nothing to him but took out her mobile phone and dialled a number.

“Hello Vanda. This is Miss Leekey. Put me through to Graham Gubbins please luv!”

A few moments passed.

Crusty sat cringing.

“Hello Graham. I need you to send a recovery vehicle … no just a flat bed truck’ll do. We’ve had a bit of an accident … no we’re fine but me bike’s a bit mangled. Send someone to pick up the bike please and have someone pick me and Crusty up in one of the cars. Yes, we’re at … Thanks Graham!”

Twenty minutes later the two vehicles turned up and the bike was taken off to one of Bel’s repair shops and she and Crusty were transported to Bel’s house.

She still hadn’t spoken to Crusty.

“Bel?”

“Shuttit!”

“But Bel?”

“Shuttit!”

“But Bel, Bel, I want a pee Bel an’a nearly crapped meself when we came off your bikecycle burram not sure if it were nearly or really!”

“Well go an’ use me downstairs lav. I don’t want ya stinkin’ all me upstairs out!”

“Ta Bel!”

He scampered off not knowing what punishment would befall him this time and, after he’d used the toilet, he tried to slink off out of the back door but she caught him.

“I thowt ya’d try that. Get back in here!”

“Worra ya goin’t do at me this time Bel?”

“I’m still finalising yer latest punishment in me yed so go in’t kitchen and sit down quietly until I come an’ get ya. AND DON’T TOUCH OWT!”

“Reet owd lass!”

She then went out to her shed to make something and an hour and a half later Bel entered her pristine kitchen and found Crusty sitting at the table twiddling his thumbs expecting a pasting.

He looked up at her sorrowfully when she walked in and cringed back at the look she had on her face.

“Reet owd lad. Brand new punishment coming up! I’ve just thought of it an’ it’s a bluddy cracker this one!”

“Yer not goin’t paste me then Bel?”

“Oh no, I’m nor’even goin’t touch ya this time!”

“Ta!”

She went to her kitchen cupboards and took out some bread and other butty making kit and prepared several sandwiches then wrapped them up neatly in butty bags.

Then, she took what looked like a large piece of paper from her pocket and wrapped all the butties and pies up together in that, while Crusty looked on totally perplexed.

At least it looked like she was going to feed him.

“Reet lad. Come on. Off we go on yer next punishment!”

“Reet owd lass. Weer are ya tekkin’ me?”

“Ya’ll see!”

30.03.03
© Mollie M

[marpaul]

@Berxer

That was funny! Can just picture them both on a tandem…hope Crusty removed his banana though otherwise it would end up a knickerbocker glory.

Love your comment about the banana Carmen

[marpaul]

Another good read Mollie, honestly fancy Crusty sitting in the rear and not pedaling, what’s he like! I thought they were going to end up on the motorway for a minute Wonder what his punishment will be…

[Berxer]

Oh lol! Fancy Crusty dozing off then falling off the bike

He got his comeuppance when not doing his fair share of the pedalling though.

Hmmm, yes, wonder what his next punishment is

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]107

Crusty’s Cast Out Into the Wilderness
(and Bel Finds Nasties in His Pants!)[/CENTER][/B]

It was now eight thirty and it had gone dark outside. Bel tugged Crusty out of the house by his cauliflower ear and into her garage. Apart from being locked in there one cold winter’s night it was the first time Crusty had ever seen it properly and, with the lights on, he was amazed to see that she actually had four cars and a motorbike! Her garage was larger in ground space than the average three-bedroom house, and there was lots of room for more cars when she decided to treat herself again.

There was the Volvo, the Escort, the Jag, a big Harley Davidson motorbike and she also had a Land Rover, which she rarely used, but it was this vehicle that she slung Crusty into the back of.

Crusty had noticed the number plate of this vehicle and had a little giggle.

“Worra ya gigglin’ at, you? I’m tekkin’ ya on a punishment, nor’a bluddy neet out at the Club!”

“It’s yer number plate Bel. It made me giggle! It’s a good 'un that!”

“Oh that. Aye well, it makes most folk giggle, that’s why I had 'em made up special! They cost me a few quid but wot the hell?”

The number plate:

P 55 POT

“I didn’t know ya had one o’ these P!sspots Bel!”

“You’re a bluddy p!sspot, y’owd sod!”

“I likes them others as well Bel. They’re proper beltin’! There’s P 55 HED, R 55 OLE, the owd Volvo’s P 55 OLE, burra knew that one, and yer motorbike is just BELT 1 N!! They’re beltin’ them Bel!”

“Glad ya like ‘em, and stop saying beltin’!”

“Can I ayte me butties in this car please Bel?”

“No ya bluddy well can’t. I’ll tell ya when ya can ayte 'em! Ger’on’t back seat and shut yer eyes and don’t open ‘em again until I tell ya! Yer goin’ on a mystery tour!”

He started bouncing up and down merrily.

“Oh goody! A mystery tour again Bel. Mind you, I’ve never been on one in’t dark before! How come yer allers shovin’ me onto’t back seat?”

“'Cos that’s weer ya belongs, and ya can chalk this mystery tour up to a new experience can’t ya?”

She got behind the wheel and started the engine, then slid through the garage doors while Crusty sat at the back with his eyes obediently closed. She drove around for a good hour and a bit and Crusty was beginning to get fed up so, as he had his eyes closed anyway, he fell asleep.

“Oink, schnort, mumble,” fart! " Oink, schnort, mumble," fart!

Not a care in the world!

Finally she brought the car to a stop and Crusty was still grunting and farting on the back seat, butty package by his side. He hadn’t stirred yet, so Bel quietly got out of the vehicle and looked around.

“Aye, this’ll do I reckon.”

She had a quick snicker then managed to retrieve the packet of food without disturbing him. Then she took a large red cloth with white spots on it from a bag, wrapped the package up in it by gathering all four corners together along with a few other items then attached it to a long gnarled blackthorn stick with a notched fork on the end.

His hobo outfit!

Then she stuck her head through the back door where Crusty was slumbering with his thumb in his mouth, and …

[SIZE=“3”]"Wake up ya festerin’ owd farty-arsed pigmy![/SIZE]

His eyes flew open and found his Bel’s nose a millimetre from his.

“Wossup? Oh, g’morning Bel. Is it feeding time now?”

“Ger’out o’ that car. Come on, out ya get!”

He did as he was told and looked around wondering where she’d brought him.

“Weer are we Bel?”

“Well, I’m purrin ya to a little test. When ya get home, ya’ve got to tell me where ya’ve bin!! Neh then, here y’are. Here’s yer butties. Put this stick o’er yer shooder. Yer swag’s inside, an’ gimme a ring when ya gets wom!”

He started rocking on his ankles, thumb in mouth again, polka dot swag bag dangling from the stick that she’d put over his shoulder.

“But Bel!”

“Come wi’ me!”

She frog-marched him down a dark lane in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere then stopped and shoved him in the back.

“Reet, get gone on yer travels!”

“But …!”

When he looked round she’d disappeared into thin air. Not easy for a nineteen stone woman. She’d turned on her heel and walked swiftly and quietly away, then got back into her vehicle and took off silently.

“Weer amma? Wor’as her done at me this time? Weer’s her fetched me?”

Just then he realised that he’d not eaten since they were on the road back from Southport and he was bluddy hungry. He sat down on a handily placed bench at the side of the road and opened up his swag bag to see what his Bel had given him to eat.

Inside there was the large piece of paper that he’d seen earlier, and inside that, the beloved butties and pies so began a good hanch.

“Yum yum. These are bluddy good!”

He suddenly realised that, as he didn’t know where he was, this food might have to be rationed as he could be, oh, minutes before he found his way home, so he started to wrap them up again, just for now. That was when he noticed that the large piece of paper was a map, which his Bel had lovingly drawn for him! She’d also put a torch and a compass in the swag bag, so he lit the torch and looked at the map.

“Weer amma?”

There was a big red X that said YOU ARE HERE!

“Where’s Here? I’ve never heard of it! I wonder if it’s in Pem. I shouldn’t have fawd asleep. I should’ve squinted through one eye’t see weer her were tekkin’ me, so I could be anywhere in the whole wide world. Wor’appens if I cawn’t find me road out? Wor’appens if nobody ever uses this road? Wor’appens if I cawn’t find owt t’ayte? I wonder if I’ll end up just keep goin’ round in circles forever and ever till am an owd mon! At least there’s a couple o’ nice benches I can get me yed down on for’t neet!”

He picked up the compass and turned until he was facing due north, not knowing if it was a northerly direction he actually needed, but it would do to be going on with.

It appeared to be wide-open countryside where he was and there wasn’t a vehicle in sight. Nor was there a house, farmhouse, shack, shed or stable, where he might beg a bed for the night, and it was pitch black.

On and on he trudged until he came to a signpost in a fork in the road.

The sign read:

Snickerford - 3 miles
Giggleswick - 1 mile
Titterfield - 2 miles
Laughing Meadow - 5 miles

“Neh then, I’ve getten four choices, but which one do I choose? I’ve never heard of any of 'em so I don’t know which one’s nearest wom. Am not very good at making choices. I’d sooner my Bel did that for me!”

Bloody fool stood there for ages just walking around the signpost trying to work out which way to go, instead of taking the shortest road.

“I know worrall do! I’ll go to Giggleswick as ickle not tek me as long’t get theer as it would if I went to Laffin’ Medder!”

Well done, Crusty!

He strode off again on his intrepid journey, stopping every few feet to check his map. He’d managed to pinpoint Giggleswick easily enough, as Bel had very kindly circled it for him. All he had to do was find the place.

But after he’d covered a hundred yards he stopped for some food. He was cold and hungry. It was pitch dark and he didn’t know where he was.

He sat down on some damp grass munching on another meat pie, wondering miserably what he could possibly have done wrong this time to warrant such a terrible punishment, and worried about how long his rations would last.

He’d already forgotten that he’d mangled Bel’s brand new bike only a few hours before!

He was about to snatch a barm cake out of his swag bag then remembered that he’d have to save some for later. He was now thinking that it could be days before he found civilisation again.

Suddenly he heard a sound that scared the life out of him.

Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!

He leapt up and looked around him and could see nothing, but the sound continued cutting through the eerie silence of the night.

He then heard a flapping behind him so he set off at a fast shuffle afraid he might crap himself if this went on for much longer.

“I hope it’s nor’another swarm o’ them bats! They tried t’ayte me bluddy yed last time I came across some!”

Off he went with a trumpety, trump.

Parp, parp, parp!!

[Mollie]

“Oops!”

He looked round hoping nobody had heard him, but he was alone in the wilderness.

A mile further on he hoped to find Giggleswick, but there was nothing there. However, on shining his torch around, he did spot a gate with what looked like his OBJ dangling from it.

Excitedly he ran over and found that it was indeed his old pal, there to rescue him on this dark cold night.

“Neh then. Worra ya doin’ here owd lad? How did ya ger’ere?”

“Well I were a bit bored standing up in me corner all neet so I thowt I’d go for a nice walk in’t countryside and sit on a gate, freezing me bleedin’ cobblers off!”

“Come on lad, ya can keep me warm as am bluddy frozzen!”

“Me too!”

He took th’owd black jacket off which had also started shivering and put th’owd blue jumper on then snuggled up in the jacket again.

“Well then, weer do I go from here then? Am at Giggleswick I think but there’s nowt here!”

Bel was having a giggle!

He turned around and started to walk back the way he’d come until once again he came to the signpost in the road.

“Well, the next nearest is Titterfield so I’ll try that road. Come on lads, let’s go!”

Bel was having a titter!

“Or shall I try Snickerford?”

Bel had a quick snicker!

Now that he had the OBJ on he felt much warmer and was able to lollop along a little bit faster as he made his way to Titterfield.

He’d been tramping about for a good two hours by now and he was getting really pigged off and tired, wishing he was back at his Pig Pen, opening tins and having a good hot hanch!

As he turned at a bend he saw a bright light in the distance. Crusty’s eyes lit up with joy and he started to lollop faster and faster toward it.

Sadness suddenly crossed his little chimpy face again as he realised that the light was the moon which had been blocked out by the trees till now. He sat on the ground with a thump, sobbing his poor old heart out.

Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!

He leapt up again and looking ahead he saw two giant eyes looking at him from a fence post. The hobgoblin was sitting hunched over and poor Crusty was deranged with fear.

He leapt up and started running, farting and squawking at the same time.

[B][I]“Bel, Bel, help me Bel! There’s a giant monster after me Bel. BEL!”

Paaarp, brrrrip, bluurrrble![/I][/B]

He stopped running, panting for breath and wheezing, his tongue scraping over his smelly little black vinyl boots.

He didn’t hear her creeping up behind him. Despite her bulk she could be very light on her feet when the occasion called for it.

[B][I]“Worra ya skryking and shouting for ya soft owd sod?”

“Go away Bel. Yer allers punishing me but this is a norrible punishment!”

“So ya don’t want a lift home then d’ya not?”

“Go away and leave me alone!”

“Reet then. See ya!”[/I][/B]

Just as she was walking away the penny dropped. BEL!! Was that his Bel that just spoke to him, or was it all in his befuddled head brought on from lack of nourishment?

“Bel, Bel, is that you Bel?”

“Yis. Did ya want me for summat only ya just said ya didn’t want a lift home!”

He leapt to his feet yet again and turned round.

There she was, large as life, come to save him!

“But how did ya know weer I was Bel? Even I don’t know weer I am so how did ya find me? There’s nowt for miles, but there’s bin a big monster following me an’a think it wants t’ayte me up!”

“Ya daft lookin’ bugger! That was only an owl! It were me that put that sign up an’ it were me that hung th’owd blue jumper on that gate. I knew ya’d eventually figure it out to go to Giggleswick first so I were following you all the time! In any case, wot in their reet bluddy mind would want to eat you ya smelly owd sod?”

“Well why didn’t ya give me a lift then?”

“Because it were a punishment. Hast forgetten already? Anyway, I were on foot when I were following ya!”

“Oh I see. So ya was never very far behind me then?”

She sighed heavily, not for the first time.

“Course not ya daft owd ditch rat. Come on, let’s get back to’t car an’ I’ll tek ya wom. It’s only five minutes away and you’ve bin trampin’ about for two bluddy hours! We’re only in Robin Park behind yer house ya daft wazzock! Ya’d be alreet in charge of a bluddy platoon o’ soldiers! This punishment is over now! Anyway, I made all them names up, there’s no such places, burra thowt it’d be a good punishment for ya!”

He grinned.

“Ta Bel!”

Once they were out of the park they got into the car where he got out the remainder of his food and had a good hanch on the way home, offering to share it with his Bel as a thank you.

“It were a good punishment that Bel, an’ ya’ve not battered me for once. I don’t think there’s any more room on me yed for extra lumps just at the moment!”

“Shaddap ya daft lookin’ bugger!”

“Reet Bel, ta Bel, sorry Bel!”

Three minutes after leaving the park they arrived at his front door.

She stopped the Land Rover’s engine and went round to the passenger side, opened the door, hawked Crusty out by his neck as usual, then frog-marched him to his front door.

“Come on ya little toad, get yer keys out and open up!”

He started fumbling about in his pants pockets. Left pocket. Back pocket, other back pocket.

“I cawn’t find 'em!”

“Come here then and let me find 'em!”

She twirled him round so that he had his back to her and put her hand into the right hand pocket of his owd brown pants. She’d noticed that he hadn’t looked in there!

He stood there quietly while she searched him and then suddenly she let out a terrible squeal.

“Aaarrgh!! Wot the bluddy hell’s thar’in yer pocket. There’s summat slippery and slimy in there. Ya’ve not gor’a bluddy pet slug now have ya, and worra ya bluddy grinnin’ at again?”

“There’s a big hole in that pocket Bel, burra don’t know wot ya touched that could be slippery and slimy!”

She shuddered, blanched and started heaving.

“I do! Have ya not gor’any knickers on?”

“No. I forgot to put Good Old Stinky on this morning. Why Bel? How did ya know that?”

She felt sick.

“Ne’ mind. Weer’s them bluddy keys?”

Again she had another quick fumble, in his owd black jacket pockets this time, and some passers-by saw her and looked away again quickly looking extremely embarrassed. Crusty’s tongue was dangling out and he had the widest grin on his face, but Bel hadn’t seen it.

“Yeeeeuuuuk! Wot the bluddy hell was THAT?”

She pulled her hand out of his pocket and sniffed at it.

“How long hast had that bluddy owd kipper in theer? Me bluddy finger poked reet through it and it stinks rotten!”

“Sorry Bel!”

“Hey up! Getten it!”

She’d mercifully found the front door key and inserted it into the lock then shoved him into his little hallway from behind; then she clod him unceremoniously into his dingy living room where he tripped over the hole in the carpet that the tiger rug normally covered.

Down he went again with a thud bashing his hooter on the tea chest, which he used as a coffee table.

“Ouch. Worra ya shoving me for? Woravva done this time?”

“Ya clumsy bugger! That’s for having some nasty things inside yer pants, ya dirty owd dung heap! Reet, get that kipper out of yer jacket pocket right now and shove it in’t dustbin. And that’s another thing. Why d’ya keep fetching yer bin into’t kitchen when a bluddy owd dustbin belongs outside?”

“Well it saves me from gerrin cowd and wet every time I want to throw stuff away. I wheels it out every Thursday for’t bin men though!”