Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

[Mollie]

Thanks Marian. I do appreciate your reading these, and so glad that you enjoy them.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]138

A Relaxing Day at Home?
(not On Your Nellykins with Crustykins!)[/CENTER][/B]

The party ended at around midnight and Crusty was totally worn out from dancing, whooshing and eating. He was full to bursting and his legs ached from waltzing around the room with Delroy and doing the hokey-cokey, which made him titter.

Some of the partygoers had started to drift off at around eleven, but the party had started early at six that evening so all had had a wonderful time, as usual.

When the last guest had left, Bel turned to Crusty.

“Now then lad! Have ya had a good time?”

His eyes welled up with tears and he nodded his head.

“It were brilliant Bel. I never thowt for a minute that ya was throwing a party for me, and nobody ler’on about it. When ya said ya had a surprise for me I never expecticated that, but wot made it bestest of all was 'cos Del Boy was there! He said he’ll come to see me soon so I’ll have’t keep th’ouse clean or he’ll get mad!”

“Well there’s no need to start skryking! We’re not quite done yet me furry owd mogwump’s arse!”

“Wot d’ya mean Bel? Is there summat else for me as well?”

“Yis lad, burram not tellin’ ya woritis yet!”

His eyes gleamed brightly.

“Yer tekkin’ me somewhere aren’t ya? Yer tekkin’ me’t Blackpool, aren’t ya?”

“No lad, I’m not taking ya’t Blackpool, but we are going somewhere nice on Sunday morning if ya behave yerself!”

Sulk!

“Burra like Blackpool bestest of all!”

“Stop sulking or I’ll not take ya anywhere. I promise ya’ll enjoy worrave got planned and we’ll be away for a few days.”

"Okay Bel. You allers know best! Am tired Bel so I think I’ll hop it. Where are ya shoving me for’t neet this time? Amma sleeping in’t potting shed, or do I ger’a nice warm stable with some hay so I can get me owd yed down comfy toneet?

She gave him a lovely smile and waited for his eyes to light up.

“You’re sleeping in a nice comfy bed upstairs tonight lad!”

“Wot? Ya mean I can sleep in yer house wi’ you Bel?”

“No, ya gawpin’ sod. Yer not sleeping wi’ me! Ugh! Wor’an 'orrible thought. Yer all hairy and smelly an’a ber’a bluddy shilling yer farting all neet in bed!”

“I’ve said it wrong Bel. I didn’t mean that. Amma sleeping upstairs did ya say?”

“Yis lad. Now come on! Ya’ve got yer own en suite which is just off yer room so ger’a nice shower and shave, then ya can put Jim and Jam on and have a good neet’s sleep and we’ll ger’up early in’t morning!”

“A shower …?”

“Yis a shower, unless ya want to freeze for’t neet on’t compost heap in me garden!”

“A shower it is then Bel. See ya in’t morning.”

“Good night lad!”

“Oh! By the way Bel. Do I ger’a brekkie in’t morning?”

“Course ya do. Mrs Shepherd will be coming in very early to tidy all the party stuff away and she’s cooking us some brekkie at eight thirty sharp so don’t be late!”

“I’m never late for a brekkie Bel!”

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

Crusty’s beady little eyes flirted open wide at eight the following morning so he dashed into his private little shower room for a pee and a fart, got dressed then dashed downstairs.

“So wockle we do today then owd lass? Have ya gor’owt planned?”

Sniff, sniff!

“Yes. We’re going to have a nice quiet day in resting.”

“Worra we resting for? Am as fit as a butcher’s dog me Bel! I had enough rest when I were in that brush all that time!”

Sniff, sniff!

“Co-ma! Well if ya’ve gor’a lot of energy ya can go and play out the back with Palethorpe. I’ll ger’is ball and frisbee and ya can play some games while I have a little nap. I’m still tired out from yesterday’s events, alright lad?”

“Great! I’ve not seen Palethorpe for a bit. D’ya think he’ll be able’t recognise me?”

Sniff, sniff!

“He’ll be able’t smell ya owd lad!”

“Aw! That’s not fair Bel. I had a special shower yesterday and last neet. It’s not normal to have so many showers in one month!”

“Ya smelly owd sh!t heap! Bur’ave ya had a wash this morning? Ya smell o’ farts!”

“Er … I forgot. Havva got to have a …?”

“Go on wi’ ya and stop yer whingeing! Once yer playing outside the fresh air’ll blow’t stink away! Tha’ needs a bluddy good airing anyway.”

Bouncing the ball as he went, he started scuttling around the house in search of Palethorpe!

“Come on lad! Yer Uncle Crusty’s here’t play a game wi’ ya. Come on lad. Where are ya hiding?”

Palethorpe had been dozing on mummy’s bed, but when he heard his Uncle Crusty’s voice and heard the squelchy splishing of his boots he woke up.

[B][I]Woof! Sniff!

Woof, woof!

Whooooooooosh![/I][/B]

Palethorpe suddenly appeared in front of Crusty. His tongue dangled out and he was panting for breath.

So was Palethorpe!

“Hello lickle man. Yer Uncle Crusty’s here. Let’s go and play out the back while yer mummy has a nice lickle kip on’t sofa! She needs a bit of a rest so we’d best not disturb her. See! We’ve getten a baw an’ a frisbee! On yer marks lad. Three, two, go, er … wot comes next? Oh aye, one!”

Double zooooom!

They played happily together for a couple of hours scampering about. Crusty was getting tired but he kept up with the dog for a little while longer.

“Here y’are Palethorpe. Let’s see if ya can jump high enough’t catch this frisbee!”

[I]Lob!

Tinkle!

“Oops!”[/I]

Palethorpe cringed and slunk off, his belly scraping the floor.

Bel awoke from her doze wondering what the noise was. She got up and looked around her only to find herself surrounded with broken glass.

She leaned out of the window and yelled.

[SIZE=“3”]“Who the bluddy hell’s done that? Crusty! Where are ya and wot d’ya think yer doin’?”[/SIZE]

Crusty whizzed off and went into hiding in Bel’s garage behind the Land Rover where he found Palethorpe, both of them hoping they’d never get caught, but they heard her storming in through the garage doors.

[SIZE=“3”]“Come out of hiding this instance! I know yer in here somewhere!”[/SIZE]

Silence!

[I]Woof!

“Sssssh Palethorpe!”[/I]

[SIZE=“3”]“Ne’ mind bluddy ssssssh Palethorpe! D’ya think I’m daft?”[/SIZE]

Silence!

[SIZE=“3”]“Oh well all reet then! If ya don’t want a big pon o’ lobbies for yer dinner don’t bother then!”[/SIZE]

Lobbies?

“Palethorpe! Yer mammy’s making us some lobbies for our din-dins!”

[SIZE=“3”]“D’ya think I cawn’t here ya whispering, y’owd fart!”[/SIZE]

“No Bel. Oops!”

He slapped a hairy hand over his mouth to shut himself up, but it was too late as he realised that she’d heard him. They saw her monstrous shadow looming towards them and they sat on the concrete floor hugging each other and quaking.

Palethorpe grinned when he saw mummy standing over them arms folded, lip curled down and tapping her foot on the hard floor.

Woof!

“It weren’t me Bel!”

[Mollie]

She grabbed his ear and hauled him into a standing position. Palethorpe started wagging his tail, frisbee in mouth.

[SIZE=“3”]“Wot d’ya mean it weren’t you? Who were it then?”[/SIZE]

Woof!

“It were Palethorpe that did it!”

Grrrrrowl!

“Si’ thi’. I’ll have’t ring a glazier now and get that window fixed straight away. I’ll be docking the money for it out o’ yer wages from’t caff!”

“Aw Bel!”

“Aw nowt! Ger’in that bluddy house and sit still before ya breyk summat else!”

She got out the Yellow Pages and thumbed through the glaziers and found one who could come within the hour.

Once it had been replaced she snatched Crusty up from his chair where he’d been sat watching Thunderbirds on the telly.

“Worra ya doin’ at me now Bel?”

“Get yer jacket on, we’re going out!”

“Burrave not finished watching me puppet show yet! Where are we going? Is it somewhere nice?”

“Well there’ll be all sorts o’ stuff there. Come on. Hurry up!”

Beaming happily he followed her out to the car thinking they were going shopping for more presents.

It was actually punishment time!

She drove the Escort out of the garage and down the road for a few miles until they came to the Council Skip Yard where there were quite a few people getting rid of some of their rubbish.

“Where’ve ya fetched me Bel? There’s nor’a lot we can do here!”

Without replying she got out of the car and went round to the passenger side where she opened the door and dragged him out by his cauliflower ear. A few people noticed them and stopped what they were doing to watch for a few moments.

She placed Crusty in front of a massive skip.

“Neh then! Have a look in there and tell me wot ya see!”

He wasn’t tall enough so she lifted him up under his armpits and he peeked over the side, skinny little legs dangling down.

“I can see a lot o’ rubbish Bel but there’s one or two bits and pieces tharra could make use of!”

She dropped him down onto the ground again and he bit his tongue.

“Ouchth, thar’urt!”

“So! Ya can see a lot o’ rubbish can ya?”

“Yith Bel!”

“Reet! We’re at the right place then!”

She grabbed hold of the back of his owd black jacket with one hand and held onto his britches arse with the other then, lifting him up high in the air she lobbed him into the skip.

When he landed there was a crashing sound, a tinkle and a grunt.

Schnort, paaarip!

Some of the people who were watching were horrified, but others started laughing their heads off when they heard him farting.

Paaarip, plopple, dribble!

A minute or two later Crusty’s sad eyes appeared at the rim of the skip and they had tears splashing out of them. He had a bit of twig sticking out of his ear and an old wooden toilet seat round his neck.

“Worrava gone and done wrong this time Bel?”

[SIZE=“3”]“That’s for breykin’ me bluddy window y’owd fart. Yer where ya belong now, wi’t rest o’t bluddy rubbish!”[/SIZE]

Wor’a bluddy shame!

She turned on her heel, got into the car and started the engine then he started sobbing out loud.

“Bel, Bel, please don’t leave me in here Bel! Somebody might find a use for me and tek me wom wi’ 'em.”

[SIZE=“3”]“Wot possible use could YOU be to anybody? Yer bluddy useless?”[/SIZE]

“Are ya goin’t leave me in here then Bel?”

“If ya can ger’out by yerself I’ll take ya back again.”

He struggled for several minutes, but eventually he managed to balance precariously on the rim of the skip and when he jumped down he ricked his ankle.

“Ouch! That buddy hurt. Bel? Can ya help me out wi’ me hobbling otherwise I might need Del Boy back again?”

She got out of the car again and snatched him by the back of his jacket hauling him up onto his toes.

“Come on then ya festering owd gobsh!te. Get back in’t car but tek that lavvy board from round yer neck first! Tha’ favvers bluddy weel, as per usual!”

“It weren’t a bad punishment that Bel. Ya thinks up some belters, ya really do!”

“I were called having a nice relaxing day today and ya’ve gone and put bluddy paid to that again!”

“Sorry Bel. I didn’t mean’t breyk yer window. How much did it cost for’t repair?”

“Three hundred and thirty quid!”

His head disappeared into his shoulders and he broke out in a cold sweat.

“But Bel! Ickle tek me years to pay me dues and demands out o’ me wages! How much d’ya want a week?”

“All of it till it’s paid for!”

“Aw Bel!”

“Shurrup! Now we’re going back home and I don’t want to see or hear you for’t rest o’t day so make yerself bluddy scarce!”

“Wot will I do wi’ meself then?”

“I don’t know an’a don’t care just as long as ya leave me alone in peace and ya don’t ger’in any more trouble!”

“That’s a difficult one thar’is Bel, burrall think o’ summat!”

The rest of the day went without incident as Crusty had decided to do some colouring in, watched some cartoons on her TV and he read his Dandy and Beano to keep him quiet.

“Now then lad, it’s be-bo’s time again but ya’ll have to be up out of yer pit at seven at the latest for yer early morning hanch. We’re going somewhere tomorrow and we can’t be late, okay?”

[Mollie]

“Okay Bel. I’ll be sat at yer kitchen table at seven o’clock sharp!”

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

Bel caught him at her cooker the next morning just as he was about to break some eggs into four inches of smoking hot oil.

[SIZE=“3”]“Oi! Wot the bluddy hell d’ya think yer doing at me cooker?”[/SIZE]

“Morning Bel. I just thowt I’d repay your hospickality by cooking ya yer brekkie. It’s bin proper beltin’ stopping here for two neets. It’s bin like stoppin’ at a posh hotel!”

[SIZE=“3”]"Put them bluddy eggs down before I smash 'em o’er yer yed. YOU ARE NOT COOKING, especially in my kitchen![/SIZE]

Sulk!

Just then Mrs Shepherd came in and weighed up what had just happened.

“Is Crusty trying to cook, Miss Leekey?”

Crusty stared at her indignantly.

“No! Crusty’s not trying to cook Miss Leekey, ya daft lady. Wot would Crusty want to cook his Bel for? In any case he wouldn’t be able’t ger’er in’t pon!”

“Shaddap!”

Mrs Shepherd started bustling about with the breakfast and within fifteen minutes Crusty was diving in. He picked up his bacon in his fingers and slithered it noisily down his throat. The next to be assaulted was his two thick pork sausages and he held one in each hand which were dive-bombed into the two egg yolks smiling happily on the plate.

Spladoosh! There was egg yolk everywhere.

“Crusty!”

Gulp!

“Worisit ya wants to say at me Bel only am a bit busy hanchin’ at the moment!”

“Well! Ya know yer allergic to water?”

“Yis Bel!”

“Well! Are you also allergic to stainless steel?”

“Wor’a funny question! I don’t think so Bel. Not tharra know of anyway! Why d’ya ask?”

Mrs Shepherd had her back to them washing dishes at the sink and the back of her neck prickled at the sarcasm in Bel’s voice. She cringed as she knew what was coming, and for one moment she wished she was thirty miles away. She started humming quietly to herself hoping to be able to block out the verbal abuse that Bel was about to hurl at Crusty.

[SIZE=“3”]“Well why the bluddy hell don’t ya use yer knife and fork ya bluddy owd pig? Tha’ seynds bluddy weel when yer aytein’ wi’ yer gobblin’ an’ hanchin’ an’ snortin’ and fartin’! Get yer bluddy eating irons picked up!”[/SIZE]

The three chimney stacks on Bel’s roof wobbled a few times then settled back into position.

“Am sorry Bel. It’s just thar’it’s proper good this brekkie an’a cawn’t ayte it fast enough!”

“I’m tekkin’ ya somewhere proper special today an’ it’s famous for’it’s fabulous restaurants and cuisine. World renowned chefs go there an’ it’s where all’t best people go to eat, and wot do you do? Guzzle and fart, hanch and fart, slobber and fart. How am I supposed’t tek ya anywhere proper to eat when a bluddy pig has better etiquette than YOU?”

He hung his head low knowing he’d gone too far this time.

“Am proper sorry Bel. Ya’ll have’t teach me some manners. Where is it ya was taking me to?”

“A restaurant called Maxim’s! The best restaurant in … well ne’ mind where!”

“Mac who? MacSimms? Is he a Scottish gentleman Bel? I don’t fancy having any more haggises!”

She rolled up her eyes.

“Never mind! Worrall do instead is tek ya to’t front o’t restaurant on Rue Royale and just show ya wor’it looks like from th’outside, burra daren’t tek ya in. I’ve never seen ya as bad as this!”

“Is it down Wigan Bel?”

“No! It’s not down bluddy Wigan!”

“Well wherever it is you can take me in Bel an’a promise I’ll ayte proper nice. How d’ya ayte nice Bel?”

“Well if ya watched me from time to time ya’d know! Why do you always ram things down yer throat Crusty? There must be a reason.”

“Well all I can think of Bel is that when I were a lickle lad on’t Sandwich Islands … I mean in Mombongo, we didn’t have owt like this to eat. We only had bananas and coconuts and fish an’a few vegetables. There were no fry-ups like this, so pr’aps me taste buds go into overdrive when summat like this is pur’in front o’ me! Mambo wasn’t the best cook in the world ya see!”

“Well if that’s yer best explanation it’ll have to do, even if that was sixty years ago, burrall be keeping me eye on you from now on and every time ya makes a pig of yerself I’ll bat ya round’t bluddy yed wi’ summat wet and smelly!”

“Ta Bel. That might teach me some manners!”

“Now eat the rest of yer breakfast nicely or I’ll cancel me plans for later!”

“Okay!”

He finished his toast and beans off, which he’d saved for last, then mopped the plate clean with his tongue.

“That were bluddy good. Thanks Missus Shepherd. Thanks Bel!”

Neither of them answered but both of them glared at him.

Paaarip!

“Oops, sorry! Thackle be them beans!”

“Ya nasty owd sod! Don’t you dare ever lick yer bluddy plate when yer out wi’ me. Go and get yer carrier bags. We’ll have’t set off soon!”

“Reet owd lass. How far are we going this time?”

“I wish I could tek ya to’t bluddy moon and drop ya off, burra cawn’t ger’a trip on a spaceship!”

“Ta Bel. I think I might be a bit lonely and bored on’t moon all by meself!”

“That’s as may be bur’at least ya couldn’t ger’in any more bother!”

“Well, wherever yer takin’ me I promise I’ll be good!”

“Tha’d better’t!”

© Mollie M
27.01.04

[marpaul]

Another good read Mollie. I can’t believe Bel chucked Crusty into the skip at the tip!! Whatever next :-D:-D So what’s happened to the bird, hope somebody’s been feeding it whilst Crusty’s been staying at the posh house :-D:-D

[Mollie]

Aw, thanks again for reading, Marian. You shall see what becomes of the parrot - eventually.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]139

Crusty Chomps
(and Bel Trifles!)[/CENTER][/B]

After breakfast, she made him go for his carrier bags which she’d instructed him to pack the night before, and when he came back downstairs she was already waiting in a taxi at the front of her house.

Bel leaned over the startled driver and started honking loudly on the horn.

[SIZE=“3”]“Come on Crusty. Yer keeping’t taxi waiting!”[/SIZE]

The driver’s poor ears rattled on the sides of his head.

Lollop, shuffle, skid, trip!

“Sorry Bel. I didn’t know we was going in a taxi. Weer is it we’re goin’?”

“Just ger’in and shurrup! Right driver, you know where we’re going!”

“Yes ma’am!”

Mrs Shepherd and Palethorpe waved bye-bye from the front door step as they watched Bel and Crusty drive off.

“How come’t driver knows where we’re goin’ bur’I don’t?”

“Shurrup I said! He needs to know, but you don’t!”

Crusty’s face was a picture when he realised that they’d been driven to Manchester Airport and he started bouncing about on the back seat of the taxi.

“Weer is it yer takin’ me Bel? Weer is it?”

“Paris, and stop bouncing about!”

“Paris? Where’s that Bel? Is it abroad, only I don’t think I’ve fetched me passport wi’ me?”

“I’ve getten it in me bag. I nicked it out o’ yer drawer when ya weren’t looking, an’am keeping howd of it just in case ya ger’it into yer daft soft yed that ya want to go sneaking off somewhere without telling me! Tha’ll only end up somewhere bluddy daft again!”

“Oh reet. So where’s Paris then Bel?”

“It’s in France Crusty.”

“France? In’t that where them funny lickle men wear bunches of onions round their necks and they wear lickle black berrits wi’ a pimple on’t top?”

“Berets, not berrits ya daft clod!”

He thumped himself in the head.

“I wish I’d known. Am sure I’ve gor’a lickle black berrit somewhere in me outfit drawer. I could’ve put me French outfit on! Will ya buy me one when we get there?”

“Only if ya shut yer trap while we’re on’t plane. Tha’ll favver bluddy weel in one, bur’if it’s wot ya want I’ll get ya one. Hey! I’ve just had a brilliant idea! Why don’t I get ya a little beret, a bunch of onions and a concertina? A lorra people call them squawk boxes so it should suit you down to’t ground!”

“Thar’is a brilliant idea Bel, ta very muchly. If I had all them, I could wear ‘em at me lickle caff and have a French outfit day while I’m takin’ me orders and doing me moppin’, an’a could serenade ‘em while they’re aytein’!”

She had it on her!

“That’s a brilliant idea owd lad, especially from you! Better still! I could get ya a French maid’s outfit. It’ll look better than that pinny and baseball cap that ya wear!”

Smirk!

“Ta Bel! Yet another brilliant idea! Which aeroplane are we goin’ on?”

“We’ll have’t wait till our flight’s called owd lad and then we can go.”

“Will we ger’a brekkie on’t plane?”

“Ya’ve only just etten ya greedy owd pot bellied pig! In any case, it’ll only tek an hour or so, so stop yer bluddy squawking about grub!”

“Sorry Bel!”

Once they’d landed, there was a car waiting for them at the airport terminal and Crusty and Bel were whisked off to a rather nice motel. She would have preferred a top class hotel, but didn’t dare risk it with Crusty in tow.

They were shown to their rooms and an hour later Bel rapped on Crusty’s door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s your Bel come a-caaaaalling! Are ya ready for a feed owd lad? It’s lunchtime now. Are ya hungry me smelly owd stinkin’ mogwump? Are ya hungry?”

Is Demis Roussos incredibly fat?

The door opened wide and a grinning Crusty greeted her.

“Yis Bel. Wot sort o’ grub do they sell here? Have they gor’any pie shops?”

“No lad, they don’t have pie shops! Come on. I’m taking ya down the Champs Elysee!”

“Chomps o’ wot Bel? Is it a restaurant? Am ready for a chomp!”

“Come on!”

They went for a stroll and Bel bought him a little black beret, which he pulled onto his head Benny Hill style. She fixed it properly for him and, as predicted, he did indeed favver bluddy weel!

She tried to explain to Crusty what the Champs Elysee was, but he was too busy thinking about food and swanking in his new hat.

“Si’ thi’. Tha’s pulled that bluddy beret down again. It favvers a pancake on’t top of yer yed!”

“I like it bestest like this Bel ‘cos it keeps all’t top o’ me yed warm!”

“I know but tha’ favvers bluddy weel wi’ it like that!”

“Leave me alone!”

They passed smart street cafes and bistros, and his nose was bobbing up and down in appreciation, until Bel suddenly stopped him at 3 Rue Royale.

“Neh then fettler. This is the place where yer not going!”

“Well if we’re not goin’ in here Bel, why’ve we stopped!”

“This is probably one of the finest eating houses in the whole world Crusty, an’a wanted ya to have a look at wot yer missing 'cos of yer piggy eating habits. This is Maxim’s!”

He saluted the front of the building in a respectful manner. Respectful because his Bel had told him it was one of the finest eating establishments in the whole world. A tear came to his eye again as he realised why she couldn’t take him in there.

“Oh aye! I remember ya telling me about Mr MacSimm’s caff!”

She looked towards Heaven and said a silent prayer.

“It’s not bluddy Mr MacSimm’s caff, ya ignorant owd goat. This is MAXIM’s and this is the restaurant where the best people in the world go. That’s why I can’t take you in!”

“Oh sorry Bel. Well I tell ya wot! Why don’t you go in an’ have a good slobber an’ I’ll sit on this bench here till ya’ve done, and ya can fetch me out a takeaway for me’t have a hanch on!”

She stared at him in disbelief. He really had no idea whatsoever.

“They don’t do bluddy takeaways!”

Just at that moment Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones walked passed them, and were about to go into the restaurant for lunch.

[SIZE=“3”]“Bel, Bel, look Bel! That’s Kirk Douglas an’ his daughter goin’ into’t caff!”[/SIZE]

Bel slapped her hand over his mouth just as the couple turned and stared at Crusty.

“Keep yer fat slobbery gob shut! That’s MICHAEL Douglas and that’s his missus, nor’is bluddy dowter!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Ya see now why I can’t take ya in there? There’ll be a lorra famous people an’ ya’ll only insult 'em and show me up!”

“I understand Bel. Is there anywhere ya can take me?”

She had a little think then had a bright idea.

“Yes lad, there is. Come on.”

She linked her arm in his and marched him off to a side street. They could hear music coming from somewhere at the bottom of some stairs so they went down and found themselves in a scruffy, but clean, little cafe where Bel ordered some food for them and a glass of red wine each.

“Neh, this is more like it Bel!”

“I thought ya’d like it lad. D’ya remember years ago when we went into that pub and they were serving free food, and it turned out we’d crunched our way through some bluddy snail shells? It were French food that night?”

“I do that Bel. They had some things called horses doovers as well didn’t they?”

“That was French an’ all lad, bur’it’s pronounced hor’s d’oeurves!”

“Well they tasted like horses doovers anyway!”

She snickered at him.

“Them champions were good though Bel! Mushrooms weren’t they?”

“Champignon ya daft owd dodo!”

A waiter heard her and went over to the table with a flourish.

[Mollie]

“Bon jour madam! Champignon?”

“No lad. Sorry! I weren’t asking for any mushrooms. I were just explaining to Crusty that champignon isn’t pronounced champion!”

“Pardon madam?”

“Oh it dun’t matter. We don’t want owt lad as we’ve already ordered!”

“Parlez vous Francais madam?”

“YEH! BLUDDY SODDY OFFY! WE DON’T WANT NOWT!!”

The poor waiter’s long droopy moustache stood on end and he took three steps back.

“Well anyway Bel, them mushrooms were proper champion!”

The waiter sidled quietly over to Crusty.

“Monsieur? Si’l vous plait? Champignon?”

“Eh?”

Bel stood up, towering over the little waiter and opened her mouth to bellow at him but, before she could, he dashed off with his tea towel covering his head.

Crusty slurped his boullabaise, which is fish soup, not knowing what it was, and then they had a plate of beef bourgignon apiece, and Crusty’s big snout went into overdrive when the aroma filtered up his great hairy nostrils. Finally, some hot cheese and garlic baguettes were brought to them, which they devoured very quickly. For their sweet, they had profiteroles topped with cream.

He munched and burped enjoying himself and then suddenly they heard the sound of a piano accordian coming from somewhere. Crusty’s head spun round trying to work out where it was coming from.

His dream came true on seeing a little fat man with a string of onions around his neck and wearing a black beret. He was playing to the customers at their tables and Crusty couldn’t wait for their turn to come.

Eventually the minstrel found himself at Crusty and Bel’s table and, because Crusty was so excited, his tongue dropped out of his head and plopped into his half empty coffee cup. On seeing this, the man squealed in horror, turned and fled in the other direction, but Crusty leapt off his chair and went after him.

“Hexcusey me mister Froggy personage! Howld up! D’ya know any George Formby songs?”

The man stopped running and turned to face Crusty.

“Pardon monsieur?”

“Am nor’a Miss Ewer. Am a Crusty Nibbleswick!”

“Pardon monsieur. Je comprende non!”

“Eh? Can ya not speyk proper English? It were like this in America when that lickle wench didn’t know wor’a bacon butty were. Bel? Why cawn’t nobody speyk proper English like wot thee and me con?”

“Shurrup.”

The accordian player shrugged his shoulders and went to a more appreciative audience.

Paaaaahrip, graaaawp!

“Grawp? That’s a new one owd lad!”

“Yeh! I’ve bin practising different farts! I’ve getten a few different ones now!”

“Dirty owd sod!”

There was a terrible farty smell of fish, cheese, garlic and beef and onion and it started wafting around the cafe. Of course there were no windows, it being a basement establishment, and the only thing the customers could do was hold their noses.

Within a few moments most of them started turning blue and rushed up the stairs into the street to get some fresh air, leaving Crusty and Bel alone, apart from the cafe staff, who all dashed into the kitchen and shut the door with a slam, thereby containing the pong within the dining area. Crusty watched the last of them leave then turned to his Bel who now had her peg on her nose.

“Reet Bel! I’ve finished me snap. Wot do we do now?”

“We’re going for a nice little walk along the Seine! I need some fresh air after you’ve bin doing the Fartette Voluntary again!”

He tapped his hearing aid as the battery was going flat again.

“Is he here?”

“Is who here?”

“Mad Sam Insane!”

“I said - we’re goin’ for a walk along the SEINE. The River Seine, ya deef owd fart!”

The tables had started rattling and dancing around them and Crusty flinched back.

“Oh sorry Bel. Is there some water in that River?”

“Ger’out through that bluddy door will ya and stop acting bluddy daft!”

“Am nor’acting Bel!”

They strolled along the Seine for half an hour with arms linked like an old married couple. They’d spent several hours in the cafe eating everything in sight, and by now it was six o’clock, and the moon was full, which was perfect for young lovers.

“Bel?”

“Wot?”

“When are ya goin’t tek that peg off yer nose?”

She’d forgotten about it so unclipped it, wondering how many people had seen her with it on. She felt foolish thinking about how she’d walked the streets of Paris with a peg on her nose, and that people would have probably talked about her.

“Crusty?”

“Worisit Bel?”

“How come I’m in Paris, the Romance Capital of the World, strolling along the banks of the Seine on a beautiful moonlit neet with an owd fart face like thee?”

“‘Cos ya fetched me wi’ ya Bel!”

"Paris is the city of love and romance and who am I here with? Crusty bluddy Nibbleswick. A smelly owd barrel o’ farts that wouldn’t know bluddy romance if it bashed him in’t gob!

“Sorry Bel. Is there any way I can make it romantical for ya? D’ya want me’t give ya a lippy kiss?”

She shuddered, then stopped and looked down at him.

His eyes were sad and woeful, and just then he was wishing he were a tall handsome young movie actor like Errol Flynn, Mel Gibson or Michael Douglas whom he’d seen earlier on. But he wasn’t. He was only a Crusty Nibbleswick, a five foot four owd fart and hadn’t a clue about romance.

“Hang on Bel! I’ve just had a thowt. You sit yerself down on this bench here and I’ll be back in a lickle jiffy.”

“Well don’t get yerself lost!”

He whooshed off and a moment later he appeared on the bench at her side.

“Here y’are Bel. Is this romantical? I’ve heard folk say thar’if ya gives yer ladylove a single flower it means ya loves her!”

He handed her the flower he’d just got from nearby, and gave her a lop-sided grin like a big daft lad.

She snatched it off him and tutted.

“Ta very much, ya tight owd turd! A gentleman usually hands his lady a single red rose, burra suppose this dandelion’ll have’t do!”

“Didda do summat bad Bel? I picked it special!”

“Ne’ mind! It’s the thought that counts. Come on lad. It’s time we were gerrin back to’t motel, bur’it’s time for summat ayte again so we’ll try another little caff a bit nearer to where we’re staying. We’ll not run short of caffs in Paris as there’s thousands of 'em.”

“Will we try every one of 'em then Bel?”

“No lad! We’ll not be here that long!”

“Wor’a pity!”

“Greedy owd sod!”

They got up from the bench and as they strolled off Bel threw the dandelion over her shoulder.

After they’d eaten yet another hearty meal, they were topped up from the food, coffee and wine so had an early night. Bel had planned something else special for Crusty the next day, but unfortunately she’d completely forgotten about something.

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

A continental breakfast was served to them the following morning, and Crusty looked down at his plate with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Wot’s this Bel?”

“That’s yer brekkie so ger’it etten!”

“This is nor’a brekkie Bel. There’s only a bit o’ toast and marmalade and some other bits and bobs. This is not wor’I calls a brekkie.”

“D’ya want an English breakfast then owd lad? This is what they call a Continental breakfast!”

“Well I don’t want an incontinence breakfast Bel! I want a fry up like I have a’wom!”

“Alreet lad, calm down. Garcon!”

The waiter came over and she ordered two full English breakfasts, and when he’d disappeared Crusty leaned over to his Bel.

[Mollie]

“Bel?”

“Wot?”

“Does that man have an arse in his name, like that Arse Clenchgripper in America?”

“Arse? Worra ya on about now?”

“Well! When ya called him over ya called him summat Arse!”

“I didn’t call him summat Arse. I called him Garcon! That’s the French word for waiter!”

“Oh I see. So does that make me a garcon as well then?”

“Yis luv, it does, and yer an arse as well. Well! Pr’aps nor’a full arse. Just an arsehole! Now get yer brekkie etten nicely when it comes!”

“I’ll have’t have a word wi’ Jim when I get back. Pr’aps we can have a proper French day in’t caff and I can be’t garcon!”

“We’ll see!”

Once they’d finished breakfast, Bel took Crusty out again for another nice walk. They were reasonably close to the Eiffel Tower and that was where she was taking him today.

“Where are we off to this time then Bel?”

“To the Eiffel Tower owd lad! Now! Wot d’ya think about that?”

“A trifle tower Bel? Is it a big tower in’t shape of a trifle? Has it got cream and cake and blancmange and jelly and custard and … sluuurp!”

Smack!

“Belt up ya daft looking deef owd lavvy bag!”

“Ouch! Me ear hole! Sorry Bel. Did I do summat wrong again?”

“Now lissen and watch my bluddy lips. I said the Eiffel Tower, not the bluddy trifle tower. Tha’s getten food on’t brain!”

"I thowt ya said thar’ave not gor’a brain Bel. You said I only had one brain ce …

[SIZE=“3”]“Will ya shut yer steaming great cake hole?”[/SIZE]

“Okay Bel, shurrin up now!”

“Good! Now then, it’s a big tower, a bit like Blackpool Tower only this one’s a lot taller. We’re going up it and when we get to’t top we’ll be able’t see all over Paris!”

“Oh I see Bel. Well if it’s taller than Blackpool Tower how will we get to’t top?”

A reasonable question wouldn’t you think?

“Well lad there’s only one way up so we’ll have’t ger’in’t lift and then … oh bugger! Yer not so keen on lifts are ya owd lad?”

“Am not Bel. We’ll have’t go up the stairs instead!”

“We cawn’t climb all the way to’t top owd lad. It’d tek us a week and we’d need a bluddy iron lung when we got to’t top!”

“Is there no other alternative then Bel? I wouldn’t want to spoil yer day looking from’t top o’t tower!”

“Oh yes lad. There’s always an alternative!”

With a grim expression on her face, Bel paid for them both and they entered the tower. There was quite a queue with people of all nationalities chattering excitedly around them, and just as the lift arrived and Crusty started squawking, she wrapped her coat around his head so that he wouldn’t be able to see what was happening. Then, making sure no one was watching, she swiftly brought her fist down in a pile driver on top of Crusty’s head, knocking him out cold.

His knees folded and he slumped, but she held onto him tightly under her arm and dragged him into the lift. A few people noticed that the old man looked a little dazed, but Bel was one step ahead as usual.

“He’s alright. He’s just had a little too much wine to drink and he’s passed out. He’ll come round again by the time we reach the top!”

They smiled, looking sorry for him.

One man looked particularly concerned about him and spoke to Bel, in English.

“Poor old chap! Are you sure he will be alright madam? I’m a doctor so if you want me to have a look at him …”

“Oh no, thank you anyway. It’s kind of you for being so concerned, but this has happened before. He’s not used to your wonderful wine monsieur doctor, but he’ll be fine!”

The lift started its ascent of the tower. Up and up and up it went. Halfway up Crusty groaned as he started to come round and, as he was still under her coat, she rolled up her fist and chinned him, again sending him back to be-bo’s.

When the lift finally stopped, she dragged him out and draped him casually over the perimeter railing with his tongue dangling down while she enjoyed the view. The fresh air was breathtaking and the view outstanding.

Suddenly she heard another groan, then a shriek.

[Mollie]

[SIZE=“3”]“Aaaargh!! Bel, Bel, help me Bel! I’m up in’th air again burrave not gor’a plane underneath me an’ave no parachute an’a think I’m goin’t be sick Bel. Help me! Ouch, me bluddy chin hurts!”[/SIZE]

She took hold of him and pulled him away from the railing with her arm firmly around his shoulders.

“Yer okay owd lad. I had to lamp ya one to knock you out while we were in’t lift. We’re at the top now so have a look at the view!”

Still dazed he looked out, then started galloping around the top of the tower looking at the city below, owd black jacket flying out like a flag behind him.

Paaaaaarip!

“We’re a long way up Bel. Amma safe?”

“As safe as ya’ll ever be wi’ me owd lad. I’ll not let ya fall so don’t start yer fretting and whingeing, not to mention farting, now behave!”

“Okay!”

He tentatively poked his big nose over the barrier to see what he could see. Bel had put her arm up his owd black jacket and grabbed hold of his braces and when he leant a bit too far over, she used the elasticity to boing him back again.

“Bel?”

Boing!

“Wot?”

Boing!

“I’ve just had a thowt!”

“Wot wi’? Ya can only think when ya’ve getten brains!”

“I know Bel, burrave still had a thowt!”

“Well worisit then?”

“How do I get back down again?”

“Neh thar’is a thowt owd lad. Well! There’s only one way.”

“D’ya mean ya’ll have’t punch me again for when we ger’in’t lift?”

“Yis lad, sorry!”

“That’s okay Bel. Bel? How many times did ya punch me coming up, only I’ve gor’a lump on me yed and me chin hurts as weel. I think it’s bruised!”

“I know owd luv. Sorry about that. Ya started coming round when we were only half way up so I had to give ya a second punch to put you out again!”

“Oh reet. Ta Bel. Yer very considerate!”

“Don’t mention it owd lad!”

They spent about half an hour up there and by then Crusty had had enough and was cold. He hadn’t thought to put his OBJ on, and th’owd black jacket wasn’t really keeping him warm.

“Alreet then owd lad, we’ll go now. Ya’d best shut yer eyes for a minute while I give ya another punch.”

“D’ya have to Bel only me yed’s throbbin’ as it is?”

“Ya can go down in’t lift as y’are if ya want owd lad and say yer little ditty for when yer frikky on’t way down.”

“Yis please Bel. I think I’ll wrap me owd black jacket round me yed so tharra cawn’t see where I’m wenting from, and I’ll say me lickle ditty dead quiet to meself. Will that be okay Bel?”

“Yes it will, me festerin’ owd mogwump. Let’s go shall we? Are ya ready?”

“Yis Bel!”

They got back down to ground level and Bel took him into a nearby cafe for a good meal to help him get over his trauma. He soon forgot things when he was gobbling away at food.

“Where to next Bel?”

“Tomorrow I’m going to take you on a special surprise owd lad. It’s something ya’ve wanted to do for a long, long time so I’m going to help yer wish to come true.”

“That sounds interesting Bel, burra cawn’t imagine wor’it might be. We don’t have’t go up anymore towers or in any more lifts though do we?”

“No lad! No more towers and no more lifts. Have a guess where I’m taking you ya Goofy owd sod!”

“I’ve no idea Bel. Givvus a clue!”

"I just did! Well there’s a planet in our solar system called Pluto! Does that give ya a clue owd lad?"

“Nnnnnope!”

“Okay then. Wot’s a shorter name for Michael?”

“Mike!”

“Another shorter name for Michael!”

“Er … Mick!”

“Longer than Mick!”

“Mickey? Yer tekkin’ me to a Mickey Rooney film?”

“No lad. Yer a proper Goofy owd sod aren’t ya?”

“I am that Bel, burra still cawn’t think where yer tekkin’ me!”

“Have ya ever driven a Minnie, owd lad?”

“No Bel. I’ve driven all sorts o’ cars burrave never driven a Mini. Why?”

She sighed and gave up.

“Ne’ mind me owd fruit bun. Ya’ll find out tomorrer!”

© Mollie M
10.02.04

[marpaul]

Enjoyed reading that Mollie. I know where they’re going

[Mollie]

Poor Crusty. He can’t help being thick!

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]140

A Dream Comes True
(and A Death in the Family!)[/CENTER][/B]

They set off the next morning in a taxi immediately after breakfast, for Boulevard du Parc where the Disneyland Resort is located. Bel had already bought two tickets, so there was no need for them to queue up with everyone else trying to get in. They’d gone extra early so that they could have a full day in the land of Crusty’s dreams, but she fretted thinking about what sort of mischief he might get himself into.

“Reet lad. Here we are! Come on and let’s have a lovely day without you gerrin into bother, okay?”

“No probs Bel. Weer are we?”

She turned so that her body was facing him and looked down on his eight strands of hair, which stretched across his bald head in a feeble attempt at a comb-over.

“Weer’s yer beret today, owd lad? I can see the lump and that bruise on’t top of yer yed where I gid ya that pile driver yesterday.”

“Me berrit? Oh aye! It’s here in me pocket Bel. Will I pur’it on?”

“That’s a good boy. Good! That looks better now. Tha’ favvers bluddy weel as usual with it pulled down over yer eyebrows! Neh then owd fettler, look up at me!”

“But Bel, I allers ger’a crick in me neck when I do that 'cos yer a long way up!”

“Just do as I tell ya lad and ya’ll not be disappointed!”

“Okay.”

He craned up his neck with a creak until he could see up her nose, and nearly jumped out of his owd black jacket when he saw her grinning.

“Wor’at grinning like that for Bel? Tha’ favvers an owd Morris Minor grille round’t gob!”

She tittered at him.

“Ya wanted to know where I’ve brought ya owd lad, an’a wanted to be able’t see yer piggy little eyes when I tell ya. Are ya ready?”

“Yis Bel. Hurry up 'cos me neck’s hurting!”

“This, Crusty, is the entrance to Disneyland!!”

His eyes gleamed and his tongue lolled out, but only for a moment, then the light went out of his eyes and he started sulking again.

“It cawn’t be 'cos Disneyland’s in America. Even I know that Bel. Ya cawn’t fool me! I know ya thinks I’m daft, burram not that bluddy daft!”

She rolled up her eyes.

“No lad. Disney World is in America, but this is Disney Land in Paris. Come on lad. Let’s get goin’!”

Suddenly it dawned on him what she was saying and he beamed at her.

“Ooh, ta Bel! Canna look down now please?”

“Ya can that lad.”

Creak!

They spent the full day in Disneyland and Crusty had his photo taken with Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Pluto and all the others. Bel had made sure her camera had charged up batteries, spares, and a spare card before they’d even left England, and she got a huge kick out of watching his face as he dashed all over the place, not wanting to miss one solitary thing. By the end of the day they were absolutely shattered, and he hadn’t got himself into bother for once, so Bel took him to La Cantina, which is located nearby for a meal.

Surprisingly, for the last two days Crusty’s table manners had improved because he’d studied his Bel while she was eating. She’d already lamped him twice at the Eiffel Tower and was worried that she’d punch him again if he didn’t behave.

“Ya know Bel. It’s bin a belting jaunt this has. I’ll have’t go in a comb more often so I can keep gerrin loads o’ treats!”

“Co-ma!”

“Oh aye, coma. Mind you Bel, if I went into another coma I might not wake up next time, might I not?”

“Very true lad. It wouldn’t do you any good at all, so no more talk like that. Ya’ll still get treats provided ya keep out o’ trouble!”

“Smashing owd girl. I thinks the world o’ you ya know Bel?”

“Ya thinks the world o’ me brass ya mean, y’owd fart-bag! If I were poverty stricken ya wouldn’t have hung about for so long!”

“Oh, I don’t know Bel. We ger’on beltin’ don’t we anyway?”

“Aye, as long as ya do wor’I say!”

“So, owd lass. When does this lickle jaunt end?”

“We’ll be going home tomorrow lad. It were only a three day trip, burra thowt it’d make a nice little break for ya!”

“Reet then. I’ve enjoyed meself an awful lot. I’ve getten me lickle berrit and … oh by the way Bel. I thowt ya said ya’d buy me a French maid’s outfit for me’t wear at The Loaf About!”

Snicker!

“Well we’ll pop to’t shops in’t morning before we go for our plane and I’ll see worra can get ya!”

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

The following day was Wednesday which was going to prove to be a very long day for Crusty and Bel. At eleven thirty that morning, Crusty got back home after Bel dropped him off in her taxi.

“Ya’d best get some washing done when ya ger’in owd lad ‘cos them bluddy smelly owd brown trousers o’ yours stink rotten with having yer mouldy sausages in yer turn ups, and that shirt ya’ve had on for’t last three days pongs an’ all!”

“Reet Bel, will do. Ta very muchly for a lovely lickle holiday. I’ll speak to ya soon owd girl. Ya can allers depend on me!”

“To do wot? Ne’ mind! I’ll si’ thi’ lad!”

Once she’d gone, Crusty decided to make a big effort and went upstairs to remove his clothes and make a load up for the washing machine. He put on his brand new pale pink candlewick bathrobe and kippers then trundled back downstairs again, loading the machine. When that was done he put the kettle on to make himself a brew, and went scavenging through his cupboards to see what food he had in.

“Mmmm! I’ve nor’ad stewed steak, tinned potatoes and peys for a bit so that’s worrall have for me din-dins! Happen I’ll open a tin o’ carrots as well for a change!”

He put the food on to cook, made his brew and sat at the kitchen table reading his new Beano that had been pushed through the door by the paper boy.

An hour or so later, belly full once more, he decided to go into his living room and either put the telly on, or perhaps listen to his Macaroni and put his feet up. He decided to listen to some music, so he tuned it into that nth channel that only Crusty knows about and settled into his armchair, head back and eyes closed, listening to The Billy Cotton Band. Crusty’s Macaroni only ever played really old tunes, nothing else!

“Aaah! How nice! There’s nowt like a lickle bit o’ peace and quiet. That’s summat my Bel dun’t ger’a lorrof when I’m around!”

He started to doze and then suddenly his eyes flirted open wide, fear spreading across his face.

Paaarp!

“Why is it so quiet?”

Paaarip!

He got up and walked over to Mr Blobbles’ cage.

“Hiya lad. Pooh! It stunk that! Yer crappy pappy’s back. Are ya having a nice lickle kip? Alreet lad. I’ll not disturb ya!”

Crusty went back to his chair and fell asleep, and it was three hours later when his eyes opened again.

“Neh then! That were a nice lickle sleep! Am bluddy hungry!”

He got up and turned to go into the kitchen, but decided to have a chat with Mr Blobbles before he did so.

“Hey up Mr Blobbles! Yer not still a-kip are ya owd lad? Mr Blobbles?”

There was no sound and no movement from the cage, and Crusty became very worried about the parrot.

“I’d best see wot my Bel says about this.”

He dialled her number and she answered immediately.

“Wot?”

“Hiya Bel! It’s your Crusty a-caaaalling you from his lickle hallway at 13 Bakewell Drive and he’s gor’a bit of a problem!”

“Reet lad! Wot’s he bin up to this time?”

“Nowt! He’s only had a lickle sleep for a couple of hours Bel, that’s all!”

“Well wot’s the problem then?”

“It’s Mr Blobbles Bel. I cawn’t seem’t be able’t wake him up out of his sleep. D’ya think he might’ve gone into a comb … co-ma?”

“Listen lad an’ I’ll tell ya worrall do. I’ll come over and see wot’s up and then I’ll tek ya for a pint somewhere later. How does that sound?”

“Brilliant Bel. See ya in a minute!”

“See ya later owd fettler! It’ll be about six by’t time I get there. I’ve only just pur’a load into me washing machine! I’ll fetch summat wi’ me for our teas though!”

“Great! Ta Bel!”

When Bel arrived she let herself in with her key and popped her head round Crusty’s living room door where she saw him shaking the cage, and berating poor old Mr Blobbles for sleeping too long.

[Mollie]

“Come on Crusty! I’m here. Come and get yer fish, chips and peys in’t kitchen!”

Zoooom!

You couldn’t see his knife and fork in action as they were moving too fast.

Sluuurp, gulp, swallow, haaaaanch!

“I’ve done Bel. It were bluddy good that!”

Paaaaarip!

“I enjoyed that fish. Reet lad! Let’s have a look at Mr Blobbles then!”

She peered through the bars of the cage then she straightened herself up to her full five foot eleven and a bit. When Crusty glanced up at her he saw that she was looking down at him, her bottom lip had curled down, her arms were folded and she was tapping her foot on his carpet.

“Havva done summat wrong Bel, only ya looks angry wi’ me again?”

She decided to have a bit of fun with him.

“Have ya no idea at all why ya can’t wake Mr Blobbles up?”

“No Bel. He was perfectly alright when we took off for France! I left him farting and swearing at me!”

“Did ya pur’any food in his bowls for him before ya went?”

“Er … well, he had a lickle bit left.”

“And how often have ya seen him go to sleep on his bluddy back with his legs stuck up in th’air, an’is tung hanging out?”

Flinch!

She snickered silently to herself.

“Never Bel. Is it more comfy for him like that, d’ya think?”

"Probably! CRUSTY?"

He ducked down behind the settee knowing full well she was about to bellow at him again, but for the life of him he’d no idea why.

[SIZE=“3”]“The sodding parrot’s DEAD, ya great gawping bugger! Ya didn’t leave it enough bluddy grub while ya were away!”[/SIZE]

Cringe! Paaar-up!

“D’ya mean dead dead, or just a lickle bit dead?”

[SIZE=“3”]“It’s as dead as a bluddy dodo! It’s swapped its bluddy fither wings for a nice new shimmery pair. It’s gone to the big golden bird cage in the sky! If ya wants to attend ANOTHER bluddy funeral ya can have one for’t parrot in yer garden! IT’S BLUDDY DEAD YA SMELLY OWD CHIMP!”[/SIZE]

Cringe! Dribble!

He crawled out from behind the settee on all fours, and tears trickled down his poor old chops as the full significance of what she was saying penetrated through the unused cavity, which housed his solitary brain cell.

He started to sob loudly.

“Am proper sorry Bel. I never meant to kill’t parrot. Am a murderer as well as an arsonist now! I were just starting’t ger’on wi’ him, an’ave spent all that money buying things for him as well and teaching him new words and everything. D’ya think he might’ve de’ed of owd age as well?”

Bel hadn’t quite expected this reaction. Her face softened and she put her arm around his smelly old hairy shoulders then sat him down on the settee.

“Yis lad, he might’ve, 'cos he were gerrin on a bit! I don’t really think ya starved him’t deeth 'cos there was definitely enough food for him. I checked before we left! I’m sorry for shouting at ya! Come on now, wipe yer eyes!”

She handed him a paper hankie from her bag and he sniffled and snuffled into it.

“Wor’amma goin’t do now then Bel?”

“Well lad, we’ll have’t bury him. Have ya gor’an owd shoebox?”

He brightened a little and blew his nose again.

“I have Bel. I’ve getten one in’t wardrobe so I’ll go an’ ger’it.”

He shambled off slowly, his head drooping down with sadness, and retrieved the shoebox from his bedroom. It was the one that had contained the new pair of shoes
Bel had bought him a while ago when she’d also given him his new mobile phone, and he’d kept it.

As he re-entered the living room, he saw that Bel had taken the bird from the cage, and had put its stiff little body on the coffee table.

“He looks proper peaceful dun’t he Bel?”

“He does lad. Now then! Yer goin’t have’t let me have one of yer carrier bags to pur’im in.”

Crusty blanched at the thought of using one of his precious carrier bags for the bird, but said nothing. He got one from the kitchen and as he went back into the living room again, Bel was standing up holding another paper hankie out to him way up high above her head.

“Am alreet now Bel, ta! I’ll not cry any more!”

“Good lad but ya definitely need this hankie!”

“Wot fo’?”

“To wipe that bluddy great snotty bogey off yer cheek!”

“Oh sorry Bel.”

He leapt up into the air a few times and on the fourth attempt, out of breath, he stood on a stool to reach the hankie at eight feet and snatched it out of her hand, then started rubbing at his face.

“There! Havva getten it?”

“Yes. Okay lad. Let’s ger’on wi’t job shall we?”

She put the bird into the carrier bag that Crusty had chosen. It was one of his oldest and tattiest, so he wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it. Then she stuffed the large package into the small shoebox and placed the lid securely on with some tape.

“Go and get yer crayons owd lad and ya can write summat nice about him on his box!”

“Wor’a good idea!”

He lolloped over to the drawer and took out his bumper pack of crayons. He’d had these ages, but they were still going strong.

“Reet lad. You write him a nice epitaph on’t top o’t box!”

“Write him a wot Bel?”

“Epi … Put summat nice about him!”

Crusty stood there for ages with the purple crayon he had carefully chosen at the ready, but nothing would come to mind.

“I cawn’t think of owt nice about him Bel. He were allers swearing and farting so wot was nice about him?”

“Gimme yer crayon here an’ I’ll do it!”

Bel started to write in a beautiful Gothic style and when she’d finished she showed Crusty what she’d written.

“Oh Bel. Wor’a beautiful writer you are, and it’s a lovely thing to say as well. Thank you! You are so very kindlyful! Wot does it say? Will ya read it out to me?”

“Aye! Okay owd lad!”

[CENTER]Goodbye, Mr Blobbles, old friend
On me you were meant to depend
But now you depart
So p!ss orf you old fart
A pain in the arse to the end[/CENTER]

Poor Mr Blobbles!

“You’re good at poetry as well, Bel! So! Wot do we do now?”

“Go and get yer spade out o’t shed and we’ll ger’a hole dug to plant him in!”

“How often will I water him after that Bel?”

She swung a fist at him, but he ducked out of the way just in time, tittering.

“Ger’out of it ya daft sod!”

Crusty put on his owd black jacket and went for the spade. Bel dug the hole and gently placed the deceased Mr Blobbles into it.

“D’ya think we should say a prayer Bel?”

She rolled up her eyes.

“Go on then, but hurry up as it’s bluddy cowd out here!”

“Dear Sir. Me lickle pal Mr Blobbles is flying up to ya now. He swears a lot, farts a lot and he’s nor’a very good birdy, bur’it’s nor’is fault. D’ya think ya can find a bit o’ room for him in Heaven please and look after him for me till I come and take over? Ta very muchly, Haymen!”

“Amen!”

The Lord rolled up His eyes.

“Reet Bel. Shall we go for that pint now?”

“Yes lad. Did ya do some washing like I told ya?”

“Oh aye, I did. I’ll just go and pur’em on’t line and then we can go!”

[Mollie]

It only took him a few minutes then he whooshed back into the living room where Bel was waiting patiently, eager for his pint.

“Reet owd lass. We can be off now! We can go and drink a toast to Mr Blobbles!”

“Well not quite yet lad as there’s summat ya’ve forgotten yet again. This is the second time I’ve towd ya this within the space of a few days.”

“Wot’s that Bel? Worrava forgotten?”

“Ya’ve getten th’owd black jacket on over yer dressing gown. Go and take ‘em off and put summat proper on. We cawn’t go to a pub wi’ you lookin’ like that! Tha’ favvers owd mon Moses!”

“Oops! I’d forgetten all about it again. Sorry Bel! I’ll not be long!”

He came back five minutes later more suitably togged up and they got into Bel’s car.

“Where d’ya want to go owd lad?”

“Dunno Bel. Wor’about the Club? We could sit in’t Lounge for a drink or have a game o’ bingo!”

“Good idea lad, burram nor’in’t mood for bingo. Okay, out o’t car then as its only walking distance!”

“Reet owd lass!”

They set off on foot and chatted on their way to the Club, which was only a five minute walk away.

“Oh! By the way owd fettler! I’ve sorted yer transportation problem out!”

“Brilliant. How do I go on then Bel?”

“Well ya’ve got yer bus pass for if ya wants to go into town and places like that, burrave arranged with Grant Taxis for you to use when ya need running somewhere urgent or somewhere unusual where’t buses don’t run, like my house!”

“Grant Taxis? Bur’ow do I pay taxi fares Bel?”

“Ya don’t! They’ll bill me once a month, so ya’ve no need to worry over summat like that!”

“Beltin’. Ta Bel!”

“I’ve nearly done working on yer car lad, so we’ll see if we can ger’a decent price for it.”

“Great! Maybe ickle boost me funds up a bit!”

They arrived at the Club and, as it was a Wednesday, Bel checked the Lounge to see if there was anyone in there playing bingo. It was empty so she sat Crusty in a seat then went over to the bar and ordered a pint for him and a glass of orange for herself.

“Aw Bel! Why don’t ya have a pint?”

“I can’t owd lad, I’m driving.”

“Oh aye. Well one won’t hurt will it Bel?”

“Yes, it will, now shurrup moidering. I’ll have a nice glass o’ wine when I ger’ome!”

“Wor’ever you say Bel. Ya know wot Bel. That were a nice funeral for Mr Blobbles. Am goin’t miss him now as I were just gerrin used to him!”

“Worisit wi’ you and bluddy funerals, y’owd ghoul? Where’s yer mam and dad buried? Ya could allers go and visit their graves if ya ger’a sudden urge to go hovering round a bluddy owd bone orchard!”

“I cawn’t remember where me dad’s buried Bel, an’ in any case I wouldn’t ger’a free feed at me dad’s grave, would I?”

She rolled her eyes up and tutted.

“Ya greedy owd sod! Well wor’about yer mam then? Is she not with him?”

Suddenly there was an announcement over the speaker in the Lounge.

“Is there anybody playing bingo in the lounge?”

Bel shouted back.

“No there’s not lad! You carry on!”

“Hello! Speak to me! Is there anybody playing bingo in the lounge?”

Bel got just a little bit aggravated.

[SIZE=“3”]“NO THERE BLUDDY WELL ISN’T YA DEEF OWD FART, NOW SWITCH THAT SODDING THING OFF! WE’RE TRYING’T CHAT IN HERE!”[/SIZE]

They heard no more from the Concert Room so Crusty got the opportunity of answering Bel’s question.

“No Bel! I cawn’t go visiting me mam’s grave either!”

“Why in the world not? Is it summat to do with yer tribal rules?”

“No! Well the reason I cawn’t go to me mam’s grave is 'cos her’s not bin buried yet Bel?”

Bel’s eyes flew open in absolute shock.

“Ya wot?”

“Her’s not bin buried yet Bel! Havva said summat wrong again?”

Cringe!

© Mollie M
16.02.04

[marpaul]

Just read this Mollie Enjoyed it as usual.

This was funny…how on earth to you come up with them!!..Wor’at grinning like that for Bel? Tha’ favvers an owd Morris Minor grille round’t gob!"

[Mollie]

@marpaul

Just read this Mollie Enjoyed it as usual.

This was funny…how on earth to you come up with them!!..Wor’at grinning like that for Bel? Tha’ favvers an owd Morris Minor grille round’t gob!"

I dunno. It’s just me daft sensa yuma.

Wor’about poor owd Mister Blobbles, and his mam?

Thanks again for reading, Marian.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]141

Crusty Relates a Strange Story
(and Bel Gets Sozzled!)[/CENTER][/B]

Bel stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. Her huge jaw had dropped down onto the wrought iron table with a thud, making a nasty dent in it.

[SIZE=“3”]“Wot d’ya mean her’s not bin buried yet? Wor’ave ya done wi’ her? Her’s not festering away in a bluddy rockin’ chair in an owd fruit cellar somewhere like bluddy Norman Bates’ mam, is her?”[/SIZE]

“Worra ya shouting at me for again? Who’s Norman Bates anyway? Does he live near here? I knows a Norman Battersby. He lives at …”

She clipped him round the ear.

[SIZE=“3”]“Norman Bates out o’ Psycho, ya bluddy demented owd dung heap! Wor’ave ya done with yer mam? Tell me right now!”[/SIZE]

The bar staff and some of the committee members stopped what they were doing when Bel raised her voice. Crusty was copping it again, but this sounded very serious. They started jabbering excitedly to each other.

“Worra they on about?”

“It’s summat about Crusty’s mam. Bel thinks he’s getten her stashed away in a cellar or summat. I wouldn’t be surprised as he’s daft enough. Hush! Let’s listen!”

Crusty rubbed hard at his ear.

“I’ve done nowt wi’ me mam Bel! Stop shouting at me! Everybody’s looking at me again an’ave done nowt wrong!”

Bel had terrifying visions of the old lady lying in a mummified state of decay, lifeless eyeballs staring out of bony sockets. She imagined that the skin had long ago shrunk back from the skull, leaving a toothy grinning corpse with little wisps of white hair on its head and covered in cobwebs somewhere deep in Crusty’s house. Was that why it always stunk rotten?

She shuddered.

“Well why hasn’t she bin given a decent burial then? Weer’s’t getten her stashed?”

“I’ve not getten her stashed anywhere! It’s 'cos her’s not dead yet Bel! That’s why her cawn’t be buried! Ya cawn’t go burying folk that’s still alive, so stop yelling at me!”

Again she sat staring at him with her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. For once she was totally stuck for words. How could she possibly have known Crusty for all these years without knowing something like that?

The committee members were still craning their necks at the small serving hatch in the Games Room, trying to listen in to what appeared to be a real live horror story unfolding right there in front of them.

“Wot d’ya mean her’s not dead?”

“I cawn’t pur’it any different than that Bel! Her’s not dead! Her’s still alive and kicking and her’s eighty years old! Don’t forget Bel, she were married at eleven and Egglentine, me owd pappy, gid me to her for a pressie when she were only twelve. I visits her every now and then, especially on her birthday, bur’it’s proper funny that every time I go she just happens to have gone on a trip somewhere or her’s bin given sleeping pills! I’ve never really figured it out proper 'cos I allers ler’er know when I’m coming! Now will ya stop shouting at me please?”

If Bel hadn’t been rooted to the spot she would have found his last remark extremely funny, but she was totally gob-smacked.

The committee men groaned. They thought they were going to hear something juicy, but it turned out to be nothing in the end, except to say that they did start bellowing with laughter at Crusty’s statement, and Bel’s face.

“Neh lissen thee! When we met up with Crispy, you said that he was yer only living relative! So! Where is yer mam then?”

“Her’s in’t Gables Bel, burrad forgetten all about her until I started …”

“The Gables? In’t that where ya used’t go doin’ yer moidering?”

“That’s the one Bel. I must pay her another visit soon.”

“Hang on lad. I’m gerrin meself a pint. I can’t tek all this in.”

“But Bel …”

“But nowt. In fact, ne’ mind about the pint. Come on you. Yer comin’ home wi’ me so as I can have a think an’ a drink. I’ve a feeling I’m goin’t need one 'cos you’ve gor’a tale to tell me!”

“Okay Bel.”

She got out of her seat and stormed towards the exit door and he scampered along behind her trying to keep up with her long strides, his head hanging low. What had he done wrong this time? He felt certain there was something he’d forgotten about, but was quite sure that his Bel would enlighten him soon.

They arrived at Bel’s home and, without bothering to put the car away, she frog-marched Crusty up the gravel path by the scruff and shoved him through her front door, kicking his arse as they went.

Paaarip!

“Phew, ya smelly owd bugger! Go and sit in me favourite living room while I ger’us summat to drink, and pur’a fresh log on’t fire while yer there. I’m shaking like a bluddy leaf here, so I need summat to settle me nerves!”

“Reet owd lass. Is it summat I said?”

“Yis!”

Blobble!

Poor Crusty sloped quietly into Bel’s favourite living room, which was the smallest one of four, placed a large log in the grate and sat down awaiting his punishment.

When Bel entered the kitchen, Palethorpe leapt up wagging his tail and his tongue was dangling and dripping, happy to see her, but all she did was pat him gently on the head, then left the room again.

Sulking, he crept back to his bed and, curling down, he put his chin on his front paws.

Sniff!

“Is Uncle Crusty here mummy?” sniff, sniff!

She came back into her living room with two large wine glasses, two bottles of wine from the fridge and a bottle of brandy. She poured Crusty a glass of wine, and for herself she poured half and half of brandy and wine! Rocket fuel!

“Reet! Neh then thee. Tell me all about it!”

“About wot Bel? Amma goin’t be punished for summat 'cos I cawn’t think of worrave done wrong?”

The question startled her.

[Mollie]

“Punished? No lad! I’m not goin’t punish ya. Ya’ve done nowt wrong tharra know about. Tell me why ya’ve never mentioned the fact that yer mam’s still alive!”

Pfffumph!

Relief!

“Ya never asked me! Okay Bel, burram not sure wot ya want me’t say.”

“Phew! Stop farting! When did ya shove her in an owd folks’ home?”

“I didn’t shove her anywhere Bel! It’s where she wanted to go. It were about twenty year ago now, after Soreen de’ed - I mean left me. I found out tharra couldn’t do nowt proper for meself so I went a-knocking at me mam’s door one neet wi’ me carrier bags full o’ stinkies, an’a towd her I were moving back in!”

“And wot did she say to thar’owd lad?”

Crusty lowered his voice conspiratorially.

“Why Bel! Ya’ve never seen such a look o’ horror on anybody’s face in yer whole life! I don’t know why, burra thowt her were goin’t have a heart attack! Her’s getten proper long hair an’ it all stood up reet on end like her’d had her fingers in’t sockets. Her favvered one o’ them mythacological Gordon creatures!”

“Ya mean GORGON!”

“Oh reet! Bur’anyway she let me in and made me a cup o’ tea while I were telling her all about it.”

Bel had calmed down now, and tears had come into her eyes. Oh! No! She wasn’t feeling sadness. She was doing everything she could to stop a snort of laughter coming out.

“It were a proper shame for her Bel. I’d allers thought she were quite chipper for her age, but when I said I were moving back in she told me a terrible tale Bel. Now this’ll make ya skryke.”

Bel tried to compose herself the best she could, barely hiding the smirk on her face.

“Go on then lad. I don’t skryke easily! Tell me in yer own time!”

“Well I cawn’t tell it in anybody else’s time canna?”

“Ger’on wi’ it!”

Smirk!

Crusty started telling her his tale in hushed tones, which made her eyes water even more. She was having a hard time keeping her face straight but she managed.

“Why Bel! During that fateful day Bel, she towd me tharra couldn’t move back ‘cos, the moment she clapped eyes on me again, she’d only just seconds before decided to move into an owd folks’ home where they could look after her until she de’ed. Now! In’t thar’a strange coincidence Bel? I were only a lad o’ forty seven at the time!”

Bel covered her face with a hanky so he wouldn’t be able to see her tittering and pretended to cough into it.

“She were only about fifty nine or sixty then, but she said thar’if I stopped wi’ her it’d kill her off alt’gether and’t doctor had towd her, only that very morning, that she only had about two weeks to live! Now! In’t thar’a sad tale for ya Bel?”

Bel’s eyes were swishing away and she choked back the laughter, her face getting redder and redder.

“And wot did ya say to her owd lad?”

“There were nowt much I could say, except tharra asked her wor’er were leaving me in her Will!”

“And wot did she say Crusty?”

“Well she said she weren’t leaving me nowt but happy memories! Anyway, I were thar’upset I just knew I couldn’t do that to her 'cos I loves me mam Bel, so I said tharrad go away again and try me bestest to look after meself. The next time I went a-caaalling on her at home a few days later, her’d disappeared and th’ouse were empty. Even’t leet bulbs had gone! It took me a good twenty years to find out she’d moved into’t Gables! I thowt her’d de’ed without telling me!”

“Wor’a bluddy shame. Ya poor owd bugger! Here! Let me fill yer glass again for ya owd lad, and ya can tell me more!”

“Well there’s nowt else to tell. Her’s bin theer all these years ever since having the time of her life! It just goes to prove that them doctors can be wrong sometimes. They said she’d only two weeks to live and that were twenty year ago!”

Bel leapt up from her chair and ran into her kitchen, making Palethorpe jump with her sudden entrance. Her stomach was killing her from holding in the laughter and, as soon as she sat down on a chair, she started her famous braying and cackling. Her face was stretched to the limit, eyes pouring with tears and she was banging her fists on the table and stamping her feet. Then she got up and started jumping about the kitchen like a kangaroo. She was in absolute fits and was having trouble controlling it.

Palethorpe covered his eyes with his paws watching his mama go into an hysterical fit!

A moment later Crusty’s big nose appeared around the door and when he saw his Bel, he rushed over to assist her.

“Bel, Bel, wot’s up owd lass? I towd ya me tale would make ya skryke.”

He patted her on the back hoping it would make her feel better, and her teeth flew out of her mouth.

“There, there owd girl. I know it’s a proper sad story in’t it. Me poor owd mam!”

Bel carried on storming round the kitchen, her facial muscles totally stuck in a maniacal grin, gums now at full stretch.

She turned and slapped him hard on the back and he fell down with a thump.

[SIZE=“3”]"Yer poor owd m …! [/SIZE] Oh Crushty! That’sh the funniesht tale I’ve ever heard in me whole life! Weer’sh me bluddy teeth gone?"

“Didda say summat funny Bel?”

Her face started to relax at long last and she massaged her cheeks then wiped her eyes. Her face was killing her now and she was desperate for the toilet. She found her teeth, cleaned them under the tap and returned them to her mouth.

“Hang on owd lad. I’ll have’t go for a pee otherwise I’ll wet meself! Go back in’t living room and ger’another glass o’ wine. I’ll not be long!”

Crusty did as he was told, scampering off on all fours, and Bel used her downstairs toilet as she knew she wouldn’t make it up the stairs. Once sat, her eyes watered up and she started laughing again, silently this time.

“Poor owd bugger! Worisit about him at all?”

She flushed the toilet, washed her hands and returned to Crusty who was sat sulking, glass of wine in hand.

“It weren’t meant to be a funny tale Bel! How come yer allers laffing at me saddest stories?”

“Sorry lad. I’m glad yer mam’s still alive! D’ya think it’d be okay if I went to visit her sometime?”

“I don’t see why not Bel, but like I said, her’ll probably disappear on a trip or summat!”

“Nor’if I go on me own owd lad! Come on! Let’s finish this booze off shall we? I think we should celebrate.”

“Good idea Bel! Worra we celebrating?”

“The fact that yer mam’s still alive!”

[Mollie]

“Oh aye! I’ll drink to that Bel!”

[CENTER]–oo0oo–[/CENTER]

About two hours later she poured herself another brandy and wine, her eighth up to now, and they were very generous measures. Suddenly she leaned over to Crusty, eyes a-twinkle, and took a huge chunk of cheek between finger and thumb and gave it a good pinch, then rattled away at his chops for a few moments, then let go, leaving nail prints.

“Ouch!”

"Where’s my lickle farty-arsed owd sh!tty pigmy then, eh, hic? I could ayte ya’ll up and spit out th’owd bones, hic! Yer me smelly owd barrel o’ festerin’ farts aren’t ya, eh, eh? hic!"

“Er … Bel?”

"Wot, hic?"

“D’ya not think ya’ve had a bit too much to drink to drive me home again?”

She was getting sozzled, which was something Crusty had never seen before.

"I have that lad, hic, but don’t you worry yer smelly lickle socks off about that, hic, me stinky-arsed lickle chimp. Ya can sleep upstairs again like last time PROVIDED, hic, that ya have a shower before ya ger’in me nice clean bed! Hic! Yer a crummy lickle moron aren’t ya, me owd crappy-arsed owd tramp? Hic!”

“If you say so Bel. Alright, burrave no Jim and Jam to pur’on!”

She stared at him with eyes crossed and grinned lopsidedly.

"Don’t you worry about that either my lickle festerin’ mogwump’s arse, hic! I’ll lend ya one of me owd nighties for just this once, hic, then I can sling it in’t bin in’t morning, hic!"

“Ta Bel, only don’t make me wear a lacy one this time 'cos they make me crusticles itch!”

She pulled a face in disgust.

“Hic!”

“Are ya drunk Bel?”

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

The next morning Crusty was up and about before his Bel, so he made his way to the kitchen for a scavenge.

“Good morning Mister Nibbleswick! I didn’t know you were staying over again!”

Crusty jumped a mile. He hadn’t seen Mrs Shepherd mopping the floor on the far side of Bel’s huge kitchen.

“G’morning missus! Worra you doing here this early in a morning?”

“I work for Miss Leekey now doing her cleaning and making sure she gets a cooked breakfast. She’s a very busy lady and sometimes doesn’t have time, so I come in every day now from seven till two. She pays very good wages and I needed the money! This is a big house to clean for a busy lady. Me and Wilf might even be moving in so we can work for her permanently.”

“Oh I see. Are ya making some brekkie this morning then?”

“Yes, when Miss Leekey gets up.”

“Oh goody! Where’s Palethorpe?”

“He’s out at the back having a tinkle. Why don’t you go and play with him while I get on, as you’ll only ger’under me feet?”

“Okay. I’ll be back for me brekkie when I smells it cooking!”

As Crusty disappeared through the back door Bel entered the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and yawning.

"Hic! Morning Mrs Shepherd! How are you today, hic?"

“I’m fine Miss Leekey, but if you don’t mind my saying so you don’t look your usual bright self!”

"No, I know, hic! Between us we supped four bottles o’ wine, hic, an’ a bottle o’ brandy last night, well it were mostly me, so I’ve gor’a bit of a hangover. No fried brekkie for me this morning. I’ll just have some toast, cereal and juice and a BIG cup of black coffee please - hic!!"

“Will Mister Nibbleswick have the same?”

"Oh bluddy hell, HIC-IC-HIC! I’d forgetten he were still here, hic! Ouch! Me yed hurts! No! Ya’d best do him the full fry-up I suppose otherwise he’ll only start squawking tharram not feeding him properly! Where is Crusty anyway, hic?"

“He’s outside playing with Palethorpe!”

"Okay! I’ll just go and ger’a yed warch pill and try to get rid of me hiccups before he comes back moidering, hic!"

“Breakfast will be in half an hour Miss Leekey!”

Crusty and Palethorpe were having a wonderful time outside playing with a ball again, and just as Bel sat down at the kitchen table the pair of them came zooming in through the back door, did four figure-of-eight laps of the kitchen, one round the main hall then back into the kitchen where they screeched to a halt by Bel’s side.

They were both on all fours and were panting breathlessly then they looked up at Bel with big grins on their faces. Palethorpe had his ball in his mouth and Crusty had the frisbee in his.

She patted both their heads.

“Good boy Palethorpe. You go for a little lie down on yer bed. Good boy Crusty. You sit yerself down for yer brekkie! Gimme that frisbee!”

They both did as they were told and Crusty started babbling away excitedly.

“Bel, Bel ya know me an’ Palethorpe, Bel? Well! We’ve just bin having a wonderful time running round in yer garding playing wi’ his baw and frisbee, and before ya blames me, it were Palethorpe that peed up a tree an’ it were him that crapped under yer rose b …”

[SIZE=“3”]"Shaaaaah-dap! [/SIZE] Ouch! Me bluddy yed! Be quiet Crusty. I’ve getten’t yed warch and yer making it worse!"

“Oops! Sssssh! Sorry Bel. I’ll be quiet while I’m aytein’ me brekkie!”

“Well thar’d make a bluddy change!”

Then he tittered.

“Have ya gor’an overhang Bel? I mean an 'angover? I know ya supped a lorra stuff last neet, so it’s a good job we’re nor’at work today Bel!”

“No lad and no work for you either. By the way! How are ya doing now I’ve cut yer hours back? I know ya never really liked working on a Saturday.”

“Bur’it’s not Saturday today Bel!”

“Is it not? Wot bluddy day is it then? Oh no! It’s only Thursday an’ave not gone into work. Neither have you for that matter! Ne’ mind! Vanda can hold the fort for me till Monday. I’ll ring her in a minute then I’ll ring Jim for you. Were it only yesterday we got back from Paris? It feels like ages ago! So! How is it now yer not working on a Saturday?”

“Okay Bel, but when ya cut me hours ya cut me wages as well, an’ave still not paid ya back for breaking yer window so ickle tek even longer now!”

“Don’t worry about that lad. We’ll call it quits now and I’ll make sure ya get paid the same money as ya got before! It’s only bin a week anyway!”

“Ta Bel! So! Wot’s on the agenda for today then?”

“Nowt. I’m taking you home as soon as I feel fit to drive and then I’ve got something I have to do!”

Sulk!

“I thowt we might do summat nice together like go for a drive to Blackpool or summat!”

“Not today lad, sorry. In any case it’s too cold yet and me yed’s not reet, burrall take ya to Blackpool again as soon as the weather picks up. By the way! Have ya had any thoughts about when yer goin’t wear yer French maid’s outfit at the cafe yet?”

Mrs Shepherd stifled a giggle.

“No, not yet Bel! Am goin’t have a word wi’ Jim about that first!”

“Good idea lad, good idea!”

She grinned and winked at Mrs Shepherd who was tittering her head off at the sink and had her legs crossed.

Bel took one of her home cure hangover remedies and then sat Crusty in a corner of the kitchen.

“Neh lissen lad, an’a mean this. I need ya to be really, really quiet while I’ve getten’t yed warch so you sit there and colour in nicely.”

“Tal Bel. How long will it be before yer yed’s better?”

“Dunno owd lad, why?”

“Well it’s just tharra might get fed up o’ colourin’ in, so would it be okay if I went into yer television room and watched that great big massive telly ya’ve gor’in there? I could watch cartoons an’ it’d keep me quiet!”

“Course ya can lad if that’s wot ya want to do, but once that telly’s turned on ya sits there and watches it except for when ya want to go for a pee. Don’t start fingering all me stuff in there, okay?”

“Okay Bel. I’ll be good. I promise on me honour this time!”

“Good lad!”

© Mollie M
01.03.04