Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

[Mollie]

"Yer a fat lazy owd scrawl! If I see it in yer kitchen again I’ll wheel thee out in it for’t bin men. Go and get them jobs done NOW!!"

He trundled off mumbling.

She was listening!

“Don’t tell me am goin’t get punished for THIS now! I cawn’t keep up at all. I no sooner gets punished for one thing then I gets punished for summat else. Am goin’t have’t start writing ‘em all down so tharrall know wor’each punishment’s fo’! I don’t know how her manages to keep thinkin’ ‘em all up, I don’t honest! Nobody gets punished as much as I do an’a try to be good, bur’it always just comes out wrong. Am nor’a bad person really, Am just daft. Her shouldn’t punish me for bein’ daft ‘cos I don’t do it o’ purpose!”

“You keep on an’ I’ll give ya a clout. I’ve never known anybody’t whinge as much as you do. Yer a bluddy expert!”

He got rid of the kipper then wheeled the overflowing dustbin out into his back yard, still mumbling as he went.

“I can hear ya mumbling. Neh shaddap an’ ger’it done!!”

He came scuttling back in again ten seconds later.

“It’s bluddy cowd outside Bel. I’ll just have’t shove everything in a black bin bag and then when it’s full I can tek it out to me bin!”

She aimed a swipe at him but he dodged out of the way.

“It’s no bluddy wonder yer house stinks rotten. There’ll be all bluddy sorts thrown in that bin. I wouldn’t like’t go rummaging through it!”

“It’s mainly tins Bel, an’a don’t throw any food away, ya knows that 'cos it all goes down me gullet!”

“Well anyway. An’ that’s another thing! In future keep yer key on a piece o’ string round yer neck! It’s not natural havin’t keep fumbling through that bluddy lot every time ya try to find it!”

“Oh that’s a good idea Bel. Why didn’t I think o’ that?”

“Because ya’ve no brains, that’s why!”

“I’ll not be a minute Bel. I’ll just have’t go an’ find me tiger rug. It’s buggered off again!”

She went to put the kettle on while he went on his daily big game hunt and by the time he found it trembling behind the wardrobe, Bel had made them a mug of tea each.

He grabbed at the tiger’s tail and hoisted it over his shoulder, dragging the poor moth eaten beast back down to its pride of place in front of the fire.

“There! Ya know Bel, it’s a mystery to me why it keeps creeping off when I’m not watching!”

He sat down, took off his shoes and put his feet on the tiger’s head, which he used as a foot stool.

“Wot d’ya mean it’s a mystery? If ya kept purrin yer nasty smelly owd feet on my bluddy yed I’D keep buggering off as weel! Go an’ put yer kippers on and then none of us’ll go slinkin’ off!”

“Burram more comfy wi’ no boots on Bel. Me feet keep sliding about in me boots an’ it makes me walk funny.”

“Yer feet keep sliding about in yer stinky little vinyl boots 'cos they’re soaked in bluddy sweat. No wonder they’re slippy. Does it never occur to ya to soak yer feet and ger’em clean once in a while?”

“Wot fo’?”

“So as they’ll not stink, that’s wot fo’!”

He sat sulking but didn’t move.

“Reet then, if that’s the way ya want it, I’m off. It’s gerrin late anyway an’ it’s past yer bedtime! I’ll give ya a ring when ya stops sulking!”

“How will ya know that?”

“I’ll know. I allers do! Ya’d best start thinking about buying yerself a new carpet for in here an’ all. This one’s so bluddy owd it looks like it’s been crocheted! It’s full of holes!!”

“They cost a lorra money though Bel!”

“Thar’as tight as bluddy cramp thee! I’m off!”

“By the way Bel. I know wot that thing was now that ya touched in me pants! See, I’ll show ya!”

“Ya dun’t need’t bother. I don’t want to see wot nasties ya’ve gor’in yer pants! It dun’t bear thinkin’ about!”

“No look!”

He unzipped his pants and Bel went white. Then he took out the slimy, slippery thing that had frightened Bel to death.

“Si’ thi’! It’s only me banana! I towd ya I’d started keepin’ one in me pants for when I gor’ungry!”
He sniffed at it then started to peel it.

“You filthy owd grungy arsed tow-rag. Ya shouldn’t dangle summat that shape at the front o’ yer pants!”

“Well if I shove it down’t back it’d look like I’d done a turd in me knicks!”

His logic was sound but she gave up anyway and wobbled off, climbed into the Land Rover and took off for blessed peace at home. She parked the vehicle up in the garage then she went into the house, went for a wash and then bed. It was hard work keep thinking up different punishments for him, but she reckoned she could use one or two old ones that she hadn’t used for a long time.

She fell asleep thinking about them.

© Mollie M
10.04.03

[marpaul]

Another good read Mollie. Bel got a right shock fumbling around in Crusty’s pockets looking for his key

[Berxer]

Oh lol! That was funny when Bel was fumbling through Crusty’s pockets Made me hoot when he said why he couldn’t very well hide his banana in the back of his pants

[Mollie]

As if hiding the banana at the front wasn’t just as bad! Nasty owd beggar!

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]108

Crusty Fools His Bel
(and She Takes Up Baseball!)[/CENTER][/B]

The next morning she was awoken with the piercing shrill of the telephone demanding her attention, yet again.

She looked at the clock on her bedside table and groaned. It was just a little before seven o’clock!

[B][I]“Wot the bluddy hell?”

Dring, dring![/I][/B]

She shambled out onto the landing and picked up the receiver.

[SIZE=“3”]“Wot!”[/SIZE]

“G’mornin’ Bel. How are you this fine day?”

She looked out of the window. It was barely light outside!

She felt her toes tingling, then the sensation went into her ankles, up her legs and by the time it had reached her neck her whole body was wobbling about like a monstrous jelly, every nerve jangling.

“Wot d’ya mean how am I this fine day? It’s nor’a fine day, it’s still the middle of the bluddy neet. Why aren’t ya still asleep in yer stinkin’ owd bed? Hast sh!tten in it, ya festerin’ owd fart?”

“No Bel, I’ve not. I might’ve farted a couple o’ times, burra don’t think I followed through. D’ya want me to go an’ check?”

[B][I]“Worra want is for you to ger’off this bluddy phone and don’t moider me at this time in a morning EVER AGAIN. Ya must wait till it’s a decent hour before ya start yer bluddy pestering. Have ya forgotten thar’it teks a lor’out o’ me when we do punishments? Neh bog off an’ if ya still wants me for summat later, ring me at nine o’clock, or later, ya moidering owd sod!”

SLAM!![/I][/B]

New phone required again?

“I get through more phones than’t bluddy Stock Exchange 'cos of him!”

She curled back up in bed and had an extra couple of hours.

Two Hours Later

[FONT=“Lucida Console”]Brr, brr. Brr, brr![/FONT]

She stirred again and looked at the clock. It was just gone 7.30 a.m.

“Wossat? I’ll ber’a bluddy shillin’ it’s Crusty again!”

It was the phone again and she hadn’t quite broken it. It was still ringing, but it had lost its usual sound. She picked up and heard Crusty’s hushed tones.

“Bel, Bel, can ya help me please Bel?”

“Wot the bluddy hell’s up wi’ ya now? Do you never sleep or does yer festerin’ pit stink too much?”

“Ssshh, Bel, ssshh. Ya might disturb 'em!”

She rolled up her eyes. Now what?

“Might disturb wot Crusty? Wot’s to do with ya this time?”

“Bel, Bel. There’s some cackle in me back garding!”

Cattle?

“Wot sort o’ cattle?”

“Cackle type cackle Bel. Ya know, cackle! Them anink mules thar’ava leg on each corner. Will ya come an’ ger’em out for me? Can ya come and round 'em up for us, please Bel!”

She closed her eyes tight, shook her head and sighed.

“Alreet I’ll see worra can do. I’ll be theer in an hour or so now that ya’ve woken me up AGAIN!”

“Okay Bel, ta Bel but be as quick as ya can!”

He replaced the receiver on its stand, sniggered, rubbed his hands together with glee and shoved his tongue back into his head again with his fingers, then wiped the grunge off his hands on his dish cloth.

“Her might kill me for this, burra think her’ll enjoy it! I hope her does anyway otherwise her’ll have’t think up another new punishment for me! Ickle do her yed in this will!!”

She drove over to Pemberton and Crusty opened the door for her before she could knock.

“Sssh! Come and look Bel!”

Very solemnly he escorted her to his kitchen and made her look out of the window.

“See Bel, can ya see 'em? There’s two of 'em at the bottom down theer. Can ya see 'em?”

“I can’t owd lad. Weer are ya looking?”

He pointed again, but she still couldn’t see any cattle grazing in his garden.

She opened one of his cupboards where she knew there was an ancient pair of binoculars and, adjusting them, peered down and round the garden.

“Neh then, weer did ya say ya’d seen them cattle Crusty!”

“Bottom left behind that big pansy that ya bought me!”

“It’s a bluddy sunflower, nor’a pansy. How can cattle hide behind a flower ya daft sod. Hey up, aw look Crusty, there’s two little kittens down there. They’re only babbies. Oh hey up, here comes their mam to give 'em a feed! How luvly!”

Then the penny dropped.

Cats!

She’d forgotten to apply Crusty speak, teamed up with his daft sense of humour!

In The Singular = Cat

In The Plural = Cattle!

“Just you wait till I get me bluddy hands on ya, y’owd sod. Fetching me all this way just to look at a couple o’ scrawny owd cats!”

She’d expected him to scuttle off, but he stood his ground sniggering his head off, his eyes streaming with laughter.

“Wot’s thy bluddy giggling at? It’s not funny this!”

“April Foo’ Bel, April Foo’!”

She lowered her arm, which she’d been going to swipe him with, tutted and looked at him, shaking her head.

“Ya daft lookin’ sod! It’s Sunday the twelfth of April today, not the first!”

“Yeh, bur’it is still April in’t it Bel?”

“It is ya daft owd wombat, but yer supposed to do April Fool on the bluddy first, not the twelfth!”

[Mollie]

“Oh, I thowt ya could do it any day in’t month as long as it’s still April!”

He started quivering, and then he tried to scuttle off in a mad panic, but she stopped him.

“It’s alreet owd lad. No damage done. As a matter of fact, that really would’ve been a brilliant April Fool’s joke, if ya’d done it on’t reet day! Ne’ mind.”

He started grinning again, relieved that she wasn’t going to bop him one.

“Wockle we do today then Bel? It’s a beautiful day in’t it?”

“It certainly is owd lad. I’ll tell ya wot. Why don’t we have a nice day in yer garden and just sit in the sunshine. It’s going to be a beautiful day. We can put yer Macaroni in’t kitchen so we can listen to all them owd songs on it, then later I’ll raid yer cupboards and make us a picnic. I brought some stuff wi’ me, but we can always add to it. We can pur’a car blanket on’t grass and pretend we’re someweer else. How about that for a change?”

“That sounds beltin’ Bel. Wor’a brilliant idea! Y’allers have good ideas you!”

“Well I’ve got to keep thinkin’ up new stuff to keep you quiet haven’t I?”

“Well aye, I suppose so. By the way Bel, how’s yer two-arsed bikecycle? Is it all mended now?”

“Yeh it’s mended and its nor’a two-arsed bike ya daft sod. It’s called a tandem! When’t weather gets really warm we’ll have a day out on it. Would ya like that?”

“I would that, now tharra know I’ve got to peggle an’ all! I didn’t mean for it to get broke Bel, honest I didn’t, but ya still punished me!”

“Aye well that’s all behind us now in’t it owd lad. That particular punishment is over with, for now!”

“Reet Bel. Let’s go outside then shall we and ger’everything ready for when we have a feed!”

His eyeballs were spinning round in anticipation of another good day’s hanching.

She let him go out first while she looked through the contents of his freezer and fridge. There was the usual fare. Sausages for his turn-ups, barm cakes for his shoulder pads, finger rolls to put round the brim of his cockle hat when he wore it, not to mention the bananas for the front of his trousers. There was also boiled ham, cheese, tomatoes and other butty making stuff, even though he hated salad. There was plenty there for a picnic.

She followed him outside and they sat in the sun for a couple of hours, just talking and for a change he didn’t act daft.

“Am gerrin bluddy hungry Bel. When do we have summat ayte?”

“I’ll go an’ ger’it sorted now if ya want owd lad. You stop there and enjoy the sunshine! I’m assuming ya’ve had at least one brekkie today, if not two.”

“That’s reet owd lass! Ta muchly.”

She prepared all the food, humming happily to herself, and then she put everything in containers, exactly the way you would if you were actually going to the countryside or the seaside. She even made a flask of tea for them and she placed everything in a cardboard box, which served as their hamper.

The blanket was spread out on his lawn and he sat cross-legged on it, then they delved into the packages. Bel got up again and sat in a specially reinforced garden chair for greater comfort while they listened to the radio.

“It’s a pity we’ve no pies Bel. I luvs a meyt pie at a picnic.”

“There is some pies lad. I fetched some wi’ me earlier on as I thowt I’d stop and spend an hour or two wi’ ya. Here y’are lad. Get that down yer throat!”

He snatched it off her greedily with both hands and shoved it down his gullet making his usual hanching and snorting sounds, but this time Bel didn’t confront him about it.

She just wanted a nice, quiet, peaceful, relaxing day.

Hah, fat chance!!

“Bel, Bel help me Bel!”

She jumped. She’d just started to doze in her chair when Crusty started squawking again.

“Wot’s up owd lad?”

“Look Bel, look. There’s a wasp landed on th’end o’ me snout!”

“Oh, is thar’all! Hang on a minute and don’t move owd lad. We’ll soon get shut of it. Don’t move or it might sting ya!”

She got up and went into the kitchen, opened a drawer and took something out, then returned to the garden where Crusty was sitting on the ground with his eyes tight shut.

“Are ya back Bel,” he asked squinting one eye open.

“I’m here lad. We’ll get rid o’ that wasp for ya now!”

When he saw what she had in her hands his eyes bulged in anticipation of what was about to happen, then they shut again. He was just thinking that he’d rather the wasp sting him than she get rid of it this way. She took her stance, waggled her backside like a baseball player, and aimed!

[B][I]Thwack, wallop, crunch!!

“Ouch, ouch, me bluddy hooter!”[/I][/B]

“Reet lad, April Foo’! That’s getten shut of it. It’ll not bother ya again!”

She went back into the kitchen and put the rolling pin back in the drawer, after first scrubbing it down, of course.

Once again she sat in her chair while Crusty held on to his bruised nose. No wonder it was a funny shape with all the things that kept happening to it.

Suddenly Bel started laughing.

“Worra ya laffing at me now fo’, Bel?”

“Thee!”

“Why, worrava done this time?”

“It were when ya were wearing that bluddy owd Arab frock in’t Cat and Canary t’other neet. Ya favvered Abu Hassem!”

“Oh well, Abu hassan’t gor’em anymore Bel!”

They both started tittering.

“Mustafa Fart! That were good that were owd fettler!”

“How about Mustafa Crap for next time Bel, or Mustafa Pee?”

She was tittering her head off.

“That were good too lad! Yer gerrin better all’t time, but ya favvered bluddy weel in thar’outfit!”

“Ta Bel! I tell ya wot though Bel. That grub ya pur’up this affy were bluddy good. I’ve really enjoyed me hanchin’ today!”

“You enjoys yer hanchin’ every day! I’ve never known anybody’t ayte as much as you. Ya’ve gor’a bluddy gullet like a mine shaft!”

“Are we goin’t chippy now? Ickle be just about opening!”

Paaarp!

“Why don’t ya give yer bally and yer arse a rest? The more ya shoves in the more it comes out. Phew, hast been aytein’ bluddy cabbage? That’s wor’it smells like, ya nasty sod!”

“Not tharra can remember Bel, burra aytes all sorts. Ya cawn’t expect me’t remember everything I’ve etten in a day. Me brain’s not big enough to pur’all that information in!”

“Well that’s true!”

“Bel! Have ya gor’a lickle bit o’ string I can have?”

“Ya’ve getten some in’t pocket of yer owd black jacket. Wot d’ya want it for?”

“To thread it through me key so tharra can wear it round me neck, like ya said!”

“Oh, aye! Well, look in yer jacket pocket. I’m sure I felt some t’other day when I were having a quick fumble!”

“Oh reet then!”

Since she’d got rid of the wasp for him, she hadn’t actually looked at him whilst they’d been chatting but as she decided it was time to take her leave, she got up and turned to face him.

“Wot the bluddy hell have ya bin doin’ now? Th’owd snout’s gone purple! Ya favver summat off’t bluddy Muppet Show!”

“Well it’s bound to have gone purple Bel. Ya whacked me one on’t conk wi’ me rowlin’ pin!”

“Oh, aye! I’d forgetten! Well, it’s been a lovely day Crusty burrave got to go now!”

"Aw, have ya got to Bel?

Paaarp, paaarp!!

“Yeh, I’ve got to!! See ya again soon owd lad, and try and let yer bally have a bit of a rest. Ya looks as if ya’ve getten a bluddy beach baw tucked away in yer nasty owd pants! Folk’ll start thinkin’ that ya’ve getten a growth!”

“Well I don’t see worra can do about it Bel!”

“Try an’ ayte less for a start! I thowt I could ayte, but you can ayte five more praters than a bluddy pig an’ then another five on’t top o’ that!”

“I likes praters!”

“Oh ne’ mind then! I give up. See ya again soon owd lad!”

"Bye Bel!

© Mollie M
12.04.03

[Berxer]

LOL at Cattle Bet he doesn’t ask Bel for help next time a wasp lands on his hooter!

I was watching the Dog Whisperer the other day and there was a bulldog named ‘Crusty’…I couldn’t take it seriously

[marpaul]

Ha ha only Crusty could play an April Fool’s prank on the wrong day

[Mollie]

I recently heard that there’s a Crusty or Krusty on The Simpsons. I’d no idea as I only ever watched one episode of that and didn’t like it, so I didn’t nick the Crusty name off there.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]109

Bel Surprises Crusty
(and He Dyes!)[/CENTER][/B]

A few days after their garden picnic, Crusty lolloped into his little hallway to answer the phone, wiping the flour off his hands onto his filthy pinny, muttering and mumbling as he went. He picked up the phone and spoke into it.

“Good morrow, oh bounteous personage! Crusty will assist you all he can, bur’if yer selling owt he dun’t want owt ‘cos he’s gor’a pie in’th oven an’ he dun’t want it to brun otherwise he’ll not be able’t ayte it! Goodbye!”

“Howd yer watter ya moth etten owd numbskull! Morning Crusty. It’s me, Bel!”

“Oh, hiya Bel. It’s a good job I didn’t hang up then in’t it? I didn’t know it were you, but then again I didn’t give ya much chance to say much didda?”

"Belt up! Listen lad, I’ve got to go somewhere for a few days so if ya think about starting to ger’a bag ready I’ll tek ya … "

[SIZE=“3”]Z o o o o m!![/SIZE]

“Crusty?”

She heard a whooshing sound down the phone, which sounded like a mini tornado. She sighed, rolled up her eyes, hung up the phone and went out to her car, then drove over to Crusty’s Crummy Cave, arriving half an hour later. She let herself in as he was whizzing round the house faster than the speed of light, picking things up and dropping them as he went.

She shook her head, marvelling at the sight.

“By heck! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s a flying pigmy!! Pigs do fly after all! I’ve seen it wi’ me own eyes now!”

The phone was still resting on its side on the table where he’d dropped it as soon as she’d mentioned the words “ger’a bag ready” so Bel replaced the receiver.

On entering his crummy hovel she’d distinctly smelled something burning so had gone into the kitchen and looked in the oven where she saw a blackened shrivelled up pie, which stunk to high heaven. In his haste to pack he’d forgotten all about it!

She didn’t even attempt to imagine what he’d put in it, but started tittering her head off, knowing that’d he’d be so disappointed. She switched off the oven and opened the back door to let the smoke out.

Wor’a bluddy shame!

Then she went into his living room to wait for him and five minutes later she saw him in the hall picking the phone up again.

“Hiya Bel. Reet, I’ve done that. I’ve packed me stuff. Weer are we goin’ this time? Are we goin’ on a proper jaunt or are ya goin’ to another one o’ yer meetings? Will I need me passport? Is there a seaside and will ya make sure that ya pack yer butty bag as well? Oh, and while I’m thinking on, I’d prefer it if we went to wherever we’re goin’ in’t Jag! Bel? Bel? Are ya theer owd lass?”

Questions, questions!

She tapped him on the shoulder from behind. He jumped and his hair stood on end, but didn’t turn round to see who it was.

“Don’t do that! I’m talking to my Bel on’t phone. Ya can see am busy so stop prodding me on me shooder or me prater pie’ll drop out. Bel? Are ya still theer or have ya gone owd lass?”

She grabbed the phone off him and put it back in its cradle.

[SIZE=“3”]“I’ve gone!! Thar’a bluddy lame brain. I’m here ya rottin’ owd turd!”[/SIZE]

He backed away cautiously.

“Who’re you?”

“Wot d’ya mean who am I? Has that last bluddy brain cell de’ed and gone alt’gether? It’s me ya daft owd dung heap, your Bel!”

“Impossible! My Bel were just on’t phone talking to me and ya’ve put phone down on her so how can you be my Bel? Ya looks like her and ya sounds a bit like her, but how can ya be her when I were just this second talkin’ to her on’t phone? Now then clever clogs, you answer that one!”

“Alreet then, I will. When I said to you on the phone to think about gerrin a bag ready you whooshed off to pack a bag, didn’t ya?”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“So worra did, instead of hanging on for half a bluddy hour for thee to come back to’t phone, I hung up, gor’in me car and drove here. It were bluddy quicker and cheaper than waiting for thee to pack yer scummy clobber in yer carrier bags!”

He still wasn’t convinced.

“But how canna be sure that yer really my Bel. Ya could be a pigment of my menageration, or a hippopotamus for all I know.”

“Ya means impostor, ya gormless owd gobsh!te. You are definitely without gorm! Here, tek this, that’ll prove it to ya!”

She brought her fist back and punched him in the stomach, which made contact with a thud.

“Neh, is that proof enough?”

“Ouch, me bluddy plums, thar’urt!”

“Sorry owd lad, me aim must’ve been a bit off! I didn’t mean’t hit ya theer!”

“That proves it! My Bel’s aim is never off. Her’s allers bob on target when her gives me a punch!”

“Oh bog off Crusty. D’ya want to come on a jaunt wi’ me or not?”

“Want!”

“Well shurrup then and stop messing about!”

“Okay Bel, sorry Bel. Oooooch, me bluddy plums are throbbin’ now!”

“Shut yer hole, ya mardy arsed little wench! I hardly touched ya! Neh then, wor’ave ya packed so far. Let’s have a look!”

“Hang on Bel. I’ve gor’a pie in th’oven so I’ll just check to see if it’s alreet 'cos I can smell a funny smell!”

He whooshed off then came back a minute later and realising that Bel had caught him out and that he’d burned his pie, he said nothing, and she said nothing.

She sat down and picked up his carrier bags one by one.

“Worra ya tekkin’ these for? Ya don’t need these bluddy owd fithers again!”

She threw them in a heap at the side of her.

“And worra these bluddy things? Didn’t ya get these in Skoffenburg?”

“I did that Bel. It’s me German outfit! Me lickle leather shorts and me trilby wi’t fither in. I thowt I might find a use for ‘em. Weer is it we’re goin’ anyway?”

“Yer bluddy fither mad! We’re goin’t Amsterdam, burra suppose ya can tek them!”

“Hamsterdam? Weer’s that?”

“It’s in Holland!”

He started snorting and she looked at him in absolute amazement.

“Ham(sterdam) barm cakes and Holland’s pies! I likes the sound o’ that Bel!”

“Shaddap!! Yer not tekkin’ these bluddy owd things either!!”

“But that’s me seaside outfit. It’s the one I took to Wales wi’ me ages ago!”

“Well yer not tekkin’ 'em to bluddy Holland 'cos there’s no seaside there!”

She tipped the contents of all the carrier bags out onto the floor and held her nose.

He’d packed all his outfits. There was his begging outfit, his toyland outfit, his Sherpa Tensing outfit, his crash helmet, his bicycle clips! You name it, he’d packed it.

“Phew, when’s’t last time any o’ this lot were pur’in yer Crustamatic? They stink bluddy rotten!”

“Oh aye! I’d forgetten all about me Crustamatic. Will I go and shove all’t lor’in it now Bel, and ger’em all smelling nice and clean. I know worra sensitive nose ya’ve getten!”

“Aye, ger’it done, but check under yer bed first for any owd nasties lurking under theer. I’ll ber’a bluddy shillin’ there’s some nasty owd knicks and socks there. Go on, ger’it done and then we can sort through all yer rubbish and see wot ya can tek wi’ ya! I’m pur’in’t kettle on!”

“When is it we go Bel?”

“Not for another week yet so ya’ve plenty o’ time’t ger’all yer washing done!”

He scampered off happily now that his Bel was there. He was always happiest when she was around and he hoped she’d keep him company for an hour or two.

And do his ironing for him.

“And when ya’ve done that ya can ger’em all bluddy ironed as weel. Yer not wearing crumpled up clothes if yer comin’ wi’ me!”

Sulk!

He trundled off into the kitchen and put all his dirty clothes into the washing machine then stood back, thumb in mouth, while he tried to remember how to work it. He didn’t dare ask his Bel because he knew she’d yell at him again.

“Howld up a minute! Ya’ve forgetten summat!”

She walked into his kitchen with the old black jacket. Oh no. Don’t be silly! She wasn’t actually holding it. She’d picked it up with the tongs from his fireside companion set!

“Bur’it dun’t need washing that Bel!”

“Get them pockets emptied and ger’it in!!”

[Mollie]

He removed his treasures from the pockets while she looked on to make sure he did it properly then she went back to the living room.

He put the jacket in and turned the dial until he thought it was on the right setting then looked around his kitchen, and realising that it was in a mess again, decided to quietly do some tidying up and clean his surfaces before Bel made him do it.

Bel had been interested in a television programme when it occurred to her that over an hour had gone by. She suddenly noticed that he’d been too quiet, so decided to go and see what he’d been up to.

She quietly opened the kitchen door and there he was at the sink with his back to her, up to his armpits in suds and singing to himself.

[CENTER]My penus in blue jeans
Moaning Lisa with a bony tai - ai - ail
She’s a walking talking work-o-fart
She’s the girl who stole my tart
My penus in …[/CENTER]

“Oi! Worra ya doin’ and wor’avva towd ya before? It’s bluddy V-ENUS!”

He leapt back in fright. He had a quick think to himself. No! He’d done nothing wrong this time. He was sure of it.

“Am doin’ nowt Bel. Just givin’ me kitchen a bit of a clean, that’s all! Oh aye, VENUS! I remembers now, sorry Bel!”

“Why! It’s a little palace in here now!”

“Bur’it still stinks dun’t it Bel?”

“Well aye! I mean it allers stinks like a monkey’s cage, bur’at least it’s tidy for a change. Good lad! Put some disinfectant in yer water then wash all yer surfaces down again. It’ll smell a bit sweeter!”

He beamed. He’d done something to please her for once.

“Bel?”

“Wot?”

He looked at her timidly.

“Can we go to’t Club this Sunday? There’s somebody on I’d really like to watch. He’s a proper good singer and whenever he’s on I allers go an’ see him! He likes it when I go watching him ‘cos o’ me special outfit tharra wear!”

“Why, wot outfit? Ne’ mind answering that. Alreet then, we’ll go if ya want. Who is it that’s on?”

“Why, it’s a lickle Irish mon an’ his name’s Ciaran O’Fartery. He’s a bluddy beltin’ singer Bel and he dun’t half ger’everybody goin’! Ya’ll like him, you’ll see!”

She tutted and shook her head.

“You and yer Irish men! They allers end up gerrin ya into trouble, an’ it’ll be O’Flaherty not O’Fartery! Okay then. Lissen Crusty, I’ve got to go now, burrall nip round again tomorrow’t make sure ya’ve done all yer washing and ironing an’ if it’s not done, I’ll gi’ thi’ that!”

She re-introduced him to her right fist and he nodded his head till it nearly dropped off!

“Okay Bel. Ickle be all ready for inspection tomorrer!”

The washing machine was just finishing its last spin as Bel left, so Crusty got all his stuff out and put them into the tumble dryer, wincing as he did at the thought of what it was going to cost him.

Still, they’d be dried all the quicker and then he could get his ironing out of the way. He set the machine for an hour and a half then went for a snooze in his living room.

When he woke up there was a programme on the History Channel on the telly, and it was all about Queen Elizabeth I. He rubbed his eyes and started to pay attention as he’d only missed about five minutes of it.

He was in absolute awe at the things that had happened in those bygone times, and was amazed to learn that Elizabeth had had a courtier by the name of Lord Birley. Apparently Lord Birley was only a short-arse, like Crusty, and she called him her little Pigmy and Elf!

“Well by the crin! Am not th’only one that got called a pigmy. If it was good enough for Lord Birley then it’s good enough for Crusty Nibbleswick! Wait till I tell my Bel about this. Her’ll be thrillt!”

He started to wonder what he’d look like in doublet and hose then dismissed the idea at the thought of his skinny little legs in tights and a ruff round his scummy neck!
Besides, he’d already tried that when he bought that sort of outfit years ago for the fancy dress at the Club, and he’d ended up getting his legs twisted up in the cloak. He still had it somewhere.

He flicked through the channels to see what else was on, and he watched some of the news that was showing some scenes of mayhem in a place called Tikrit. The camera panned over to an American General who was in the thick of it all and he answered a few questions that the reporters were throwing at him.

“Yes ma’am, we are in absolute control right now! Yes sir, what was your question again?”

“When do you foresee all this will be over General?”

“Well sir … er … let me put it to you this way sir. It won’t be over till the fat lady sings, and that may be quite some time yet. Thank you sir, next question!”

Crusty’s ears pricked up then he switched the set off. He’d have to remember that.

He suddenly remembered his tumble dryer and that it had stopped, so he went into the kitchen to take all his nice clean clothes out so that he could get them ironed before bed time.

He opened the dryer door and took out the first garment, which was a pair of his wincyette knickers. He held them aloft and his face drained of colour.

“Wot’s happened to me knicks?”

He fumbled in the dryer again and took out a jumper.

“Wot’s happened to me jumper?”

Then he grabbed a handful of his clothing and dragged them all out. Socks, knickers, vests, tee shirts, trousers, jumpers, cardigans.

He examined every one and as the penny dropped his eyes filled with tears.

“Oh heck! Wor’avva gone and done this time? Her won’t half gimme a bluddy clout for this!”

His little brain cell went into over-drive at the amount of input it was trying to receive all at once.

Crusty scooped his things up and shoved them all into carrier bags, and hid them under the stairs then he ran to his phone.

Dring, dring. Dring, dring!

“Good evening. This is Crustabel Leekey speaking!”

“Bel?”

“Oh it’s you. Wot d’ya want Crusty only I were just thinking of going to bed!”

“Well, ya know ya said ya’d come back tomorrow to inspect me washing and ironing?”

“Yes, wor’about it?”

“Well I were just wondering wot time ya were thinkin’ o’ coming!”

“Why? Does it matter?”

“Oh yes Bel, it matters a lot. Will it be morning or afternoon?”

“Well I were thinking about tomorrow afternoon, about three. Ya’ll be at work in’t mornin’ anyway! Is thar’okay?”

“Yip!”

He hung up and left her standing there with the phone in her hand.

She shrugged her shoulders then went to bed, wondering what he was up to this time. She knew for certain though that she would find out in the fullness of time.

The next morning, before he went to work, Crusty scoured every charity shop in and around the Pemberton area in search of new grotties for his bedroom drawers and under-the-bed stuff.

He found out that, amazingly, he couldn’t buy second hand knickers and socks but he managed jumpers, cardies, pants and tee shirts, then he had to go to a proper shop to buy one new pair of knickers and one new pair of socks. Sniffy and Whiffy were fine as he hadn’t put them in the machine, but he needed a spare pair occasionally. He figured he could manage for a couple of months with just them and by then it would be warmer weather so, while he gave them an airing he could go without.

He’d drawn out fifty pounds hoping it would cover everything and was delighted when he counted up at the end of his shopping that he had thirty pounds left.

Tight owd sod!

He rushed home straight after work and threw everything into the washing machine again, remembering this time the correct setting, got them washed, dried, ironed and neatly folded just five minutes before Bel was due.

Phew!!

Bang, bang, hommer, hommer!

“Just coming Bel!”

“Good afternoon Crusty! Have ya gor’all yer jobs done? I’m here for inspection!”

“I know Bel. Everything’s done an’a think ya’ll be pleased at wor’ave done this time!”

He’d folded everything and put them in a tidy pile on top of the tumble dryer and Bel went to check everything out. She went through every item just in case he’d cheated, but every single item was as clean as a whistle.

“Neh then Bel. Wot d’ya think o’ that?”

“Very good Crusty! But there’s just one thing.”

“Wossat Bel?”

[Mollie]

“Where’s that clobber that ya washed last neet? Wor’ave ya done wi’ all that?”

He stuck his thumb in his mouth. He hadn’t reckoned on her noticing the change of rubbish.

“Nowt Bel. I just thowt I’d get meself summat different for a change that’s all!”

“No it’s not. You’d split a bluddy farthing if ya could ya tight owd fart. There’s no way ya’d shell out for new old stuff unless it were me that made ya do it. Now, wot’s bin goin’ on? Where’ve ya hidden all yer other clothes?”

Knowing he was beaten he went and retrieved his other things from under the stairs, knowing he was going to get a pelt.

“They’re here Bel, but please don’t gimme a clout. I didn’t mean it!”

“Let me look!”

She tipped the contents of the carrier bags onto his worktop and stifled the laugh that she felt welling up inside her. It didn’t work so she let the laughter out and started throwing each item at him, braying her heart out as she did so.

“Worra ya laffing at me for? Ya sounds like a bluddy hyena! I once heerd an owd Blackpool donkey making that noise!”

“Thar’a bluddy owd duffer yer nowt else. Wot the bluddy hell did ya do to these clothes at all?”

“I dunno Bel. They just all came out like that, ‘ceptin’ for me owd black jacket. That’s just as good as it’s allers bin! I thowt you might have an explanation as to how they ended up in that condition!”

“Oh I know exactly wot ya’ve done, ya stupid owd sod. Ya’ve shoved everything in together and pur’em on a bluddy boil wash then ya’ve tumble dried 'em all. Amma reet?”

“I didn’t know I’d pur’em on a boil wash Bel, burra might’ve. I couldn’t remember the right setting an’a didn’t like asking ya in case ya bopped me one so I just closed me eyes and spun me dial, then hoped for’t best!”

“Well this owd black jacket’s not wor’it was owd lad. It’s all crinkly and ya’ll not be able’t iron 'em out with having boil washed it. Ya’ll have’t bin it! It’ll be too small for ya now anyway!”

“No ickle not Bel. It’s alreet. I’ll still be able’t ger’in it! In fact, it might even fit me a bit better than it did!”

She held up one of his jumpers, which had shrunk to the size of a baby’s romper suit and a pair of his knickers, which would have probably fitted a Barby doll.

He groaned.

“So, wot ya must’ve done is gone scuttling round all’t shops this morning and then when ya’ve got back from work, ya’ve done all yer washing before I could see wot ya’d been up to. Amma reet?”

“Yis Bel, yer allers reet!”

“I know I am. Ne’ mind owd lad. At least ya had enough sense to go and buy summat else to pur’in their place. Come on, don’t worry about it! I’ll keep these little socks though now that they’re clean. They’ll do to keep Palethorpe’s little feet warm when it’s cowd!”

He grinned his cheesy grin.

“Ta Bel. One thing though Bel! How come they’ve all come out in that sh!tty shade of pink, ‘ceptin’ for th’owd black jacket?”

“That’s because ya boiled yer red drawers in wi’ all’t other colours ya daft bugger and it’s dyed everything! Even dye couldn’t get through all’t crap on yer owd black jacket. That’s why it’s its usual sh!tty shade of off black!”

“Oh! I didn’t know ya could do that!”

“Well ya’ll have’t throw all thar’other lot away now Crusty. Ya can’t wear 'em like that.”

“Okay Bel, burram keeping me owd black jacket. By the way Bel, I were watching’t telly last neet about Elizabeth the First and her had a lickle pal called Lord Birley and d’ya know wor’er used’t call him?”

“Wot? I’m not well up on history!”

“Her used’t call him her lickle Pigmy and Elf. Si’ thi’! I must be like Lord Birley 'cos you call me yer lickle pigmy don’t ya Bel?”

“Thee like Lord Birley? Aye, but there’ll be one big difference.”

“Wossat?”

“Lord Birley might’ve been a little shorty arse like you, burra ber’a bluddy shillin’ he weren’t a little farty arse like you!”

Sulk!!

“D’ya know summat Bel, am in two minds whether’t come wi’ ya or not ‘cos yer allers callin’ me names!”

“Wot d’ya mean yer in TWO minds? Ya’ve nor’even getten one mind to call yer own!!”

Sulk!

“See worra mean? Yer allers insulterating me an’ it’s nor’always called for!”

“Stop yer sulking or I’ll gi’ ya a slap. Wor’else did ya see on’t telly last neet. I didn’t have time’t pur’it on 'cos I were too busy before I went to bed!”

“Well I se’ed this General soldier type of person Bel and he were in a place called … I’ve forgetten, but there were a lorra people pinchin’ stuff all over’t place!”

“Was it in Iraq?”

“Yeh, bur’it were called Tikky summat or other. Anyway d’ya know wor’e said, that General?”

“Go on!”

“Why, he said thar’all’t trouble won’t be o’er till’t fat lady sings. Neh then Bel, wot d’ya think about that?”

“Well it’s just an American expression. Wor’about it?”

“Well I thowt if ya’d nowt better to do this weekend ya could pop o’er theer, give ‘em a song and then they’ll all stop feytin’!”

Smack!!

“Wor’avva said wrong this time? Ya don’t have’t go if ya don’t want Bel, burra thowt thar’as ya’ve getten a luvly singin’ voice ya might fancy goin’ over to sing 'em a lullaby or summat. It might mek ‘em all realise and then everything’d be okay, but ya don’t have to. Ya could be another Vera Lynn singin’ to’t troops!”

“I thowt ya wanted to go to’t Club to see that little Irish man!”

“Oh aye that’s reet. Well pr’aps ya can go another weekend then when we’re not so busy!”

Slap!

“Sorry Bel. I didn’t think I’d said owt wrong this time, burra must be mistaken again mustn’t I?”

“Yis! Now don’t mention it again!”

“Okay Bel, sorry Bel!”

“Reet. Let’s carry on sortin’ yer rubbish out for our trip then shall we and ya can show me all yer new owd stuff properly that ya’ve bought today!”

She examined all his freshly laundered clothing and for a change she approved of most of the things he’d bought, even though most things were the wrong size.

She started sifting through and the only things she wouldn’t let him keep were a waistcoat that was canary yellow at the back and the front was scarlet, yellow and bright green broad stripes.

“Ya’ll favver a bluddy deck chair again in that, and wor’ave ya bowt this bluddy shirt for? It’s the same colour as a babby’s nappy when it’s bin fillt! Yer not wearing a baby-sh!t coloured shirt while yer wi’ me!”

“Okay then Bel. Wor’ever ya say. Your taste in clothes is a bit better than mine. I’m nor’all that good at purrin colours together!”

“As usual, you demonstrate your exceptional skill at understatement!”

“Ta Bel! Am glad am good at summat!”

“Reet lad. I only came for inspection. I’ll be off now, burrall come round Sunday morning, tek ya back to my house for the day and then I’ll tek ya for yer din-dins at the Red Robin!”

“Ooh great! We’re goin’ seeing that lickle Irish mon sing as well Sunday aren’t we Bel?”

“Aye! I’d not forgotten. See ya Sunday lad!”

“See ya Sunday Bel, and thank you for your valued insight with regard to my unfortunate lack of skill in selecting suitable clothing!!”

Smack!!

© Mollie M
15.04.03

[Berxer]

Another good read Mollie Laughed my socks off at Crusty’s shrunken clothes, only he could do that

Looking forward to the Amsterdam trip

[Mollie]

There’s a lot of fun coming up in these next chapters, so I’ll work on the next couple to make sure they’re right. Will put the next on tomorrow night.

[marpaul]

Another good read Mollie:) Thought it was funny when he was rushing around finding his clothes and thought Bel wasn’t Bel He’s sooo dim isn’t he Am also looking forward to his trip! He has more trips than hot dinners

[Mollie]

He is truly blessed with having his darling Bel as a friend. He’s thicker than mushy peas!

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]110

Crusty - Bel’s Number One Fan
(and Crusty Confesses Again!)[/CENTER][/B]

“It’s bluddy hot this morning, Crusty!”

“Yer reet theer Bel owd lass! I think it’s one o’t th’ottest days we’ve had in a long while!”

“Come an’ blow on me. I can’t get cool!”

He scampered over happily, eager to assist and started blowing on her, but he ended up spitting grunge all over her neck, so she waved him away and he scuttled off and sat cross-legged on the ground with his thumb in his mouth while she went in for a wash.

Ten minutes later she came back having had a good sluice down and had brewed them a mug of tea each.

“Ya know Crusty ya shouldn’t wear tight pants like them when it’s this bluddy hot. It’ll make yer arse sweat and some other equally nasty places!”

“Well they didn’t used’t be tight these Bel. They used’t be dead baggy years ago but they seem to have shrunk a bit!”

“They’ve not shrunk ya daft sod. It’s thee. Yer arse and yer bally’s getten fatter!”

“D’ya think so Bel! I thowt I cut a fine figure for a man o’ my age!”

“Th’only thing you can bluddy cut is a loaf to shove down yer gullet, ya greedy owd pig. I’m thinkin’ o’ goin’ on a diet and if I do, you’ll have’t go on one as well!”

“Aw Bel. That’s not fair. It’s not my fault that you’re too fat!”

Almost at once he realised what he’d said and he went as red as a beetroot, and clapped a hairy hand over his mouth while she glared at him.

“Aye well, I suppose thar’is true owd lad, bur’it dun’t make any difference. We’ll have a do at it when we come back from Holland, bur’in’t meantime we can just carry on as usual!”

They were sitting on a bench by the small lake in part of Bel’s enormous garden. The sun was really hot and they were in the coolest part of the grounds. Every now and again bubbles could be seen floating to the top of the water as the fish swam happily about.

The sound of the water and the bird song gave the feeling of an old English country garden, which was what it was, but it was one of those days when being lazy was absolutely acceptable by all.

“Ya know summat owd lad. Ya’d best keep yer’sell dampened down an’ all otherwise ya’ll be overpowering in this heat!”

“Okay Bel! I’ll do me lickle bestest!”

As it was a Sunday morning there was no need to rush around, and Bel had promised Crusty that she’d take him to the Red Robin for their Sunday lunch, then later she was to be delighted by the silken voice of Ciaran O’Flaherty, or so she’d been told.

He was fidgeting away like mad hoping time would pass quicker so that he could feed his face, and thinking about it just made him hungrier.

“Ya know Bel. We could go to’t Mawdesley Aytein’ House while it’s nearer than’t Red Robin. We’ll ger’a feed quicker there!”

“There’s no way I’m taking YOU to’t Mawdesely Eating House! I live here an’a don’t want folk from round here or visiting MY village watching THEE aytein’ like a bluddy pig!”

“Oh I see. Y’always have an answer for everything!”

“I know. Oh it’s bluddy hot! Crusty, can ya see them big leaves on that plant over theer? Them great big 'uns that looks like palm leaves?”

“Yis Bel. They’re bonny big leaves them. Ya could make all sorts wi’ them. I could make a …”

“Just go an’ breyk one off then come back o’er here an’ I’ll tell ya wot to do wi’ it!”

Again, eager to please so that she wouldn’t get angry with him, he scurried over, broke off one of the biggest leaves then scuttled back again, tongue dripping and dribbling.

“Reet Bel, I’ve fetched one. Wot d’ya want me’t do wi’ it?”

“Hmmmph, don’t tempt me! Get behind me and start wafting it so as it’ll make a nice breeze to cool me down. Go on!”

“But wor’about me?”

“Wor’about thee?”

“Do we take it in turns, or wot?”

“Definitely wot me owd fruit cake, definitely wot! I’m not fannin’ you ‘cos it’ll only make the pong spread out a bit more an’ I’ll not be able’t get down wind of ya!”

“Oh aye. I hadn’t thowt about that! Here goes then Bel!”

Waftwaftwaft!

“Don’t waft that bluddy fast! Yer making it feel like a bluddy hurricane’s blowing. Waft it gentle!”

“Reet owd lass. I’ll try again!”

Waft Waft Waft!

“Aah, that’s much better owd fettler. Neh keep goin’ and don’t stop till I tell ya!”

“Ickle be my pleasure Bel!”

A couple of hours later Crusty started whinging again.

“Bel?”

No reply.

“Bel owd lass? Can ya hear me?”

No reply.

He stopped wafting and put the leaf down, then went round to the front and found Bel sound asleep.

His poor old skinny arms were killing him, so he sat down quietly beside her and rested for a while. The sweat was really pumping out of him, so he took off his shirt and the dirty vest he had on underneath, which was full of holes.

“Eee, that’s a bit more like.”

A moment later she woke up with a start, and when she saw him sat at the side of her semi naked she went berserk then she started heaving.

“I thowt I could smell summat ya nasty owd bugger. It’s wakkened me up! Get yer bluddy shirt back on. I don’t want to have’t look at thy smelly naked body. Yuuuuk. Yer chest’s covered in bluddy fur an’ there’s sweat running down yer front. Ya just favvers an owd chimp, all hairy and smelly. Get gone! Come here!”

“Which is it ya wants me’t do Bel?”

She leapt up, dragged him off the seat and kneed him in his softies. Something she hadn’t done in a while.

Wor’a bluddy shame!!

Eyes watering, and wincing with pain, Crusty dropped to the floor again.

“Ouch Bel. I wish ya wouldn’t keep kicking me in me landing gear. It bluddy hurts when ya do that!”

[Mollie]

“Well ya shouldn’t’ve sat at the side o’ me wi’ sweat running down in rivulets over yer hairy owd chest!”

“Burram bluddy hot Bel wi’ fannin’ you! I only wanted a minute to give me arms a rest. They’re nor’half aching now!”

“Your arms should be proper strong wi’ all’t swinging about in’t trees that ya used’t do!”

“Yeh, but that were a long while ago now Bel. Am an owd man now an’ I’ve nor’ad a swing from any branches for years!”

“Well ya should’ve kept it up in’t park. Ya ne’er know when yer goin’t need it. Wot d’ya think I keep a bluddy owd pigmy around for anyway?”

“Dunno. I did try an’ keep up me swingin’ in’t park years ago Bel, burra got stopped by a bobby. At first he thowt I were a chimp thar’d getten loose from’t Zoo, but when they got closer they could see I were only a twenty year owd lad. It were just before I got wed to Soreen that! Mind you, them trees weren’t really close enough ‘gether to ger’a good swing from tree to tree an’a kept fawin’ off. I were allers covered in bruises in them days.”

She was silent while he gave his explanation, finding it hard to keep her face straight.

“Bel, am gerrin hungry. When do we go to’t Red Robin?”

“In a minute. Go an’ ger’a pee an’ a wash and then we can set off.”

Whooosh!

Ten minutes later he came scurrying back after carrying out his Bel’s instructions to the letter, ready for a feed.

“Reet Bel. Am back now. Which car are we goin’ in?”

“We’re goin’ in th’owd Escort.”

“Aw Bel. I likes riding about in yer Jag bestest!”

“Ah well, that’s true but ya know ya can’t ayte in’t Jag, but ya can ayte in
th’Escort!”

“But we’re goin’t Red Robin aren’t we?”

“Oh aye, burra thowt ya might like a bit of a munch on’t way!”

A happy smile returned to his chops when she handed him a package. There were all sorts in it as usual but Bel ate nothing, preferring to save herself for a slap up feed at the pub.

She had a sly grin on her face which Crusty missed as he was too busy shovelling food into the gaping orifice at the front of his face.

“How come yer feeding me before we get to’t pub Bel?”

“Well I didn’t want to see ya go hungry lad. Oh here, there’s a bunch o’ bananas on’t back seat as well!”

“Ta Bel!”

By the time they’d reached their destination Crusty was full to busting, but he believed he could manage another dinner plate full of something.

They got out of the car and Bel marched towards the family entrance with Crusty in tow. When they got in she dragged him to one side of the building and Crusty was overjoyed.

“Bel, Bel! Are ya tekkin’ me into’t Wacky Warehouse? I’ve allers wanted to see wot were in there!”

“Yeh, this is where ya can stop while I’m having me dinner.”

Eh?

“But wor’about my din-dins Bel? Where do I feed?”

“Ya’ve bin fed on’t way here. Ya don’t honestly think I’d tek ya into a nice restaurant like this did ya wi’ your manners?”

Sulk!

“So wockle I do in here then?”

“Well go an’ keep yerself out o’ mischief. Go and play wi’t little kiddies in’t sand pit and ball pit. Ya could make a nice sand castle!”

Sulk!

“Burra don’t like kids.”

“Ger’in! I’ll be back for ya in a bit!”

“Bel please stop treating me like a lickle kid!”

“Well stop bluddy-well acting like one then!”

“But please Bel, please! I promise faithfully on me honour thar’if ya tek me wi’ ya in there I’ll be as good as gold. I’ll sit quiet, won’t ask for any scraps, won’t make any pig noises - in fact I’ll not say one single word. Swear to God on me honour I’ll not an’ I’ll not do any slavverin’ or droolin’ either, promise!”

She weakened.

“Okay then. Bur’if I hear just one sound comin’ out of yer gob ya’ll cop it.”

They went into the restaurant and found a table for two. The place was immaculate and Crusty craned his neck all the way round to see everything.

“It’s …”

“Shuttit!”

She placed her order with the waitress and fifteen minutes later her meal was delivered and placed in front of her.

Sluuuurp!!

Bel glared at him but said nothing.

Crusty’s eyes had boinged out of his head when he saw the monster-sized plate full of succulent roast lamb with mint sauce, roast potatoes, new potatoes, green beans, carrots and sprouts. Bel picked up the gravy boat and poured the lot onto her meal, then seasoned it.

The pepper got up Crusty’s massive, mis-shapen hooter.

Aaaah aaaah aaaah

“You bluddy dare!”

From his pocket he took his grotty handkerchief and covered his face.

Kaaaachooo!

“Crusty! Put that filthy owd snot rag back in yer pocket before we all come down wi’ summat. Have ya bin cleanin’t drains wi’ it!”

He looked up at her sorrowfully, knowing that he mustn’t under any circumstances answer her, so he just shook his head, no!

He signalled to her for a writing implement and a piece of paper, so she fumbled in her handbag and gave him a pen and pad.

He started to write something down on both sides, slowly, inexorably then he showed it to her.

[CENTER][FONT=“Fixedsys”]gOIn’T cLoZZit[/FONT][/CENTER]

“Well get gone and hurry up and don’t forget to …”

He turned the page over where he’d written something else down.

[CENTER][FONT=“Fixedsys”]waSH mE anDs[/FONT][/CENTER]

“Reet, get gone!”

[Mollie]

Bel continued with her meal in peace while he was gone, eating slowly and savouring every mouthful.

Half an hour went by and she finished her food then ordered a cup of tea.

“Crusty d’ya want a cup o’ …! Neh where’s he getten to?”

She hadn’t realised he hadn’t re-appeared from the toilets, but ordered the tea anyway, explaining to the waitress that she’d be back in a minute when she’d found her friend.

“He’ll’ve getten locked in’t lavvy!” she explained.

Once more she asked a young lad coming out of the toilets to see if there was a doddery owd bugger in there.

The lad nipped back, checked then came out again.

“Sorry missus, there’s no doddery owd buggers or anyone else in there!”

“Oh no, nor’again!!”

There were a lot of people at the Red Robin due to its popularity, especially on a Sunday afternoon.

Finally, she found him sitting on a high stool at the bar in the other room with his second whisky in his hand, chatting to a young couple.

He’d barged up to the bar and got between them and ordered the whiskey, and then pretended that he’d left his wallet at home. The young man had kindly bought him the drink, feeling sorry for the poor old man.

In payment, Crusty had charmed them with some of his tales as a helmsman, pilot and ENT surgeon and had had them in stitches with the funny way he spoke, so they bought him another. They didn’t believe him, of course, but as he was such a wag they thought a couple of whiskies were worth it.

He was just nearing the end of the tale about his arse catching fire in his caff, when Bel sidled up beside him.

She prodded him with a sharp finger on the shoulder and the Cornish pasty that he’d secreted in there flirted out of the front of his jacket.

As he bent down to pick it up, she gave a swift boot up the arse, picked him up manually and sat him back down on the bar stool again.

“Hiya Bel. Worra ya bootin’ me up th’arse fo’ now? I were just telling this nice young couple here a few of me tales!”

“Were ya now? Well, I’d like to apologise to this nice young couple who’ve had to pur’up wi’ you moiderin’ and bluddy pesterin’ again. I am sorry, but this owd duffer here is an expert moiderer. Here, this’ll cover the cost of the drinks ya’ve obviously bought him. He wouldn’t be able’t ger’is wallet open and even if he could, he wouldn’t fork out for whiskey. My apologies once more!”

With that she gave the young man a five pound note, lifted Crusty off the stool, tucked him under her arm, and marched off with him, back to the restaurant area where their cups of tea were waiting.

From under her arm he started wailing again.

“Wot’s me punishment this time Bel?”

“No Club toneet!”

“I’ll go on me own then!”

“No ya’ll not. Yer coming wom wi’ me so as I can keep me eye on ya!”

“But Bel!”

“But nowt!! Ya promised me faithfully that ya’d behave and ya didn’t so no Club toneet!”

“I’ll pay!”

[SIZE=“3”]Eh!![/SIZE]

“Repeat that very slowly.”

“I will pay!”

“Alreet then. While we’re in Pem I’ll tek ya wom while ya ger’a nice shower and change into summat proper, and then I’ll come for ya again at seven, okay?”

“Reet Bel. Brilliant!”

After she’d dropped him off she went back home to shower, do her hair and found a nice outfit to put on.

They rarely went to the Club on a Sunday, but as Crusty was so enthusiastic about his little Irish singer, he’d convinced her she’d really enjoy it so she started to look forward to going.

Right on the dot Bel arrived at Crusty’s festering abode.

Bang, bang, hommer, hommer!

“Just coming Bel! Wait till ya see wor’ave getten on for’t Club!”

She groaned out loud.

“Now wot?”

He opened the door and there he stood all spruced up like a dog’s dinner.

“Bluddy hell! I’ll say this much for ya owd lad. When yer all dressed up ya can hardly tell there’s any chimp in ya at all. Let me look at ya!”

She walked all the way round him and he spun round in circles till she was dizzy, so she grabbed him by the shoulders and made him stand still.

“Well ya favver a right bobby dazzler toneet owd lad! I like them owd grey trousers ya’ve getten on and that white shirt’s actually white! Ya must’ve ironed it at some stage as there’s not so many creases in it. Yer red tie looks nice with yer outfit owd lad but in all honesty it favvers yer tongue danglin’ down, but ne’ mind. Neh then, go an’ get yer jacket on then we’ll be ready for th’off!”

He was grinning wildly now because his Bel had complimented him and his tongue did start dangling again, but she made him put it back because it looked like he had two ties on!

He scurried off then came back with his owd black jacket on, but for once it looked reasonable and …

There were no barm cakes or pies in his shoulders!!

“Hast getten yer wallet?”

“Yis Bel,” he said patting his pocket where he’d secreted the welded wallet.

“Have ya chipped all’t crud off it so as ya con open it?”

“Er … yis Bel!”

“Reet, let’s get gone then!”

They trundled off to the Club arm in arm, looking forward to a wonderful evening’s entertainment!

© Mollie M
14.05.03

[marpaul]

another good read Mollie. Was trying to imagine him swinging through trees Wonder what will happen at the club! Can’t imagine him looking good in his outfit for the club Felt sorry for him with Bel taking him to restaurant with no intention of letting him eat there!