Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

[Mollie]

“Ya did lad. Anyway, wot d’ya mean yer mam got ya a colour’t wave. Ya said ya were in yer twenties!”

“So wot Bel? I used enjoy meself running round in me short pants and me owd black jacket and waving me colour under folkses noses! I were allers gerrin a swipe off somebody, bur’it were only a lickle bit o’ fun! Folk used’t laff at me though in me short pants, bur’it weren’t my fault that me mam wouldn’t buy me any long ‘uns! When me dad’s pants were gerrin worn out, her’d cut the legs down’t fit me, but she were no good at sewing and all th’edges were frayed. I favvered a raggy arsed street urchin back then, bur’at least I had a pair o’ pumps on me lickle feet!”

Bel was having a very hard time trying to picture the scene but she was crying and laughing at the same time.

“Poor owd lad! Anyway, that first owd black jacket was probably an early prototype ‘cos I’ve seen a few similar looking owd black jackets knockin’ about lately here and about besides yours and they all favver bluddy weel!”

“I used’t like playing games an’ all. I used’t draw numbers one to ten on’t flags wi’ a piece of owd slate!”

“Wot fo’?”

“Why, for playing hopscotch! Did you never play hopscotch Bel?”

“I cawn’t remember owd lad! I might’ve!”

She snickered at the thought of a twenty year old lad in short pants and an owd black jacket playing hopscotch and it amused her.

“Bel, d’ya remember just after’t war when they used deliver coal? We were only supposed get two seks a fortneet while it were rationed, but me mam allers managed to get three a fortneet!”

“How did she manage thar’owd lad? They were bluddy cowd winters then an’ everybody needed to keep warm. Even my family up in Scotland were on rations ya know! I can’t remember it properly though 'cos I were only a wee girl!”

“I didn’t know that Bel!”

“Well, go on. Wot were ya saying about coal mon?”

“Well, from worra can remember, me mam allers seemed’t get dressed up proper nice when’t coal mon were due and her’d pur’on a nice clean frock and do her make up and she drew bright red lipstick on herself. When I first saw it, I thowt her’d cut her lips and they were bleeding and … worra ya laffing at now?”

“Nowt lad, carry on.”

“Anyway, she used make me go an’ play wi’t coal while her and’t coal mon were busy upstairs. I don’t know wot they did, but coal mon allers ended up droppin’ another bag off in’t coal hole! I were still playing down in’t coal hole one day when he dropped the third bag off, reet on me bluddy yed. I gor’all black and mucky. It were beltin’ until me mam hosed me down in’t back yard wi’ cowd watter!”

Bel was chuckling away.

“How old were ya then owd lad?”

“Not so owd. I were only about nineteen or twenty then! I used like playing wi’t coal as I liked gerrin mucky!”

“I’m not surprised. Nowt’s changed there! Tha’s getten a yed full o’ nutty slack so it wouldn’t’ve dawned on ya wot yer mam gor’up to. Ne’ mind! Ya know summat, ya smell funny again Crusty. Yer long past yer bluddy sell by date, that’s why ya allers stinks. Ya must’ve gone off some while ago!”

“When were that then d’ya think?”

“Oh, probably around 1957!”

He started sulking again.

“Am sorry I’m such a disappoinkment to ya Bel!”

“Pick yer lip up before ya faws o’er it!”

“Wot shall we remember now then Bel? Am really enjoying meself today!”

“Er, let me see. Wor’about telly programmes. D’ya remember any?”

“Well not too many Bel as we didn’t have a telly, burra used go and watch the tellies in’t telly shop. Mrs Mather didn’t mind so long as’a didn’t touch owt or twiddle wi’t knobs. She used think I were a bit funny 'cos I were in me twenties then, but she didn’t see any harm in me. I remember I used like watching Fanny Craddock doing her cooking though an’a paid attention. Ya know summat Bel? I can cook doughnuts that look just like Fanny’s!”

Her eyes watered up and she started snorting with laughter. She bashed him on his shoulder and he rolled down the slight grassy incline on his back.

“That were a good 'un lad!”

He got up and went back to his place next to Bel.

“Ta Bel! Worrava said? Anyway, we did ger’a telly later on though, burra were owder then. I used to like me Watch With Mother an’ all them, burra liked the adverts best. They were proper good in them days!”

“Go on then, tell us wot ya can remember of them!”

“Tell ya wot Bel! I’ll sing a bit o’ jingle and you can finish it off!”

She looked around at the happy smiling faces of the people enjoying the early afternoon sun.

“Okay, but sing very, very quietly. We don’t want all these nice people gerrin yed warch now do we, and don’t forget, I’m at lot younger than you so I might not remember 'em.”

"Okay Bel. Here goes wi’t first 'un …

[CENTER]Bum, bum, bum, bum!"[/CENTER]

She was stumped.

“Is it summat to do wi’ bog paper?”

He clapped his hands with glee. He’d caught her out already.

"No Bel, lissen …

[CENTER]Bum, bum, bum, bum
Esso Blue[/CENTER]

… d’ya remember now?"

"Oh aye, that were it. Wor’about this one then owd lad …

[CENTER]You’ll wonder where the yellow went[/CENTER]

[CENTER]When ya brush yer teeth with Pepsodent![/CENTER]

“Good lad!”

“That’s one poink to me Bel. Here’s another an’a bet ya remembers this one…”

[CENTER]You’ll feel a lickle lovelier each day[/CENTER]

[CENTER]With fabulous pink - Camay![/CENTER]

“How about this one now Crusty. I bet you remember this …”

[CENTER]The Esso sign means[/CENTER]

[CENTER]Happy motoring![/CENTER]

“Well done lad. Owt else?”

“Neh then. Let me have a think. I cawn’t think of anymore. Let’s play at remembering things ya could buy instead then!”

“Alright. How about Tide?”

[Mollie]

[I]“Rinso!”

“Omo!”

“Oxydol!”[/I]

“I should’ve known ya’d remember that. Yer still using it! Er … Lyril!”

“Am still using thar’an’all Bel. Let me see … Pinnacle!”

“Erasmic. Howld on a bit. Ya’ve still getten half o’ these. It’s my turn in’t it? Er … dolly blue!”

“Oh that’s a good 'un Bel. I’d forgetten all about dolly blues. Ya took two turns then! Kensitas cigs! I’ve just thowt of another jingle Bel! Jingle Bel! D’ya ger’it?”

“You’ll ger’it in a bluddy minute so stop yer snickerin’. Now wot’s yer jingle?”

[CENTER]Yer never alone with a [/CENTER]

[CENTER]Strand![/CENTER]

“Horniman’s tea with cards of wild flowers, Australian wildlife and all that, and ya could collect a set of 'em then ya could send for a book to stick 'em in!”

“Oh aye! D’ya remember Izal toilet paper back then Bel? Ya allers ended up wiping yer arse wi’t shiny side an’ it’d slide all over yer bum!”

“Nasty owd sod! Evening in Paris from Woollies, donkey stones and Cherry Lips!”

“Aw that’s not fair Bel. Ya’ve used up all me other rememberings. Ya’ve had three goes all at once this time an’ that’s cheating!”

“Stop yer sulkin’! I were gerrin fed up o’ that game anyway.”

“One more Bel. I’ve just remembered Rael Brook shirts! D’ya remember how they used move about on their own on’t telly adverts?”

“Aye! They were a bit like all yer scummies that stand up in’t corner of yer bedroom. They know how’t make their own way about an’ all!”

Sulk!

The tour boat came back then and, as they’d eaten everything, Bel collected all the rubbish, put it in the carrier bags then dropped it all into the nearby litter bin.

“Come on owd lad, on yer feet. We’ll go for a boat ride now.”

He got up with a creak, the tight drainpipe trousers making his eyes water for a moment, then trundled after Bel.

A lot of other people were getting on the boat as well, many of them around the same age as Crusty and some a little younger like Bel. A withered old crone who was sat at the back of the boat opened her huge slobbery mouth revealing one solitary tooth, and started cackling away like an old witch. Her young grandson was trying to shut her up by putting his hands round her mouth.

“Shurrup Grandma. Yer nor’in’t th’owd folks’ home now!”

“Wot’s her laffin’ at Bel?”

“I don’t know lad. Pr’aps her’s nor’a full shillin’!”

Once veryone was seated, the boat moved off at a leisurely pace.

“Bel?”

“Wot?”

“Canna have a drive of the …”

“No you bluddy well can’t have a drive of the boat! Have ya not learned yer lesson from them other times?”

“Oh aye, I’d forgetten for a minute!”

Just then an elderly man’s melodic voice started to sing softly.

[CENTER]Cruising down the river …[/CENTER]

Crusty decided to join in.

[CENTER]ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOOOOOON![/CENTER]

“Belt up Crusty. We don’t want to have’t lissen to thee. Neh let that man sing nicely!”

“Sorry Bel, sorry mister!”

The man started again.

[CENTER]Cruising down the river
On a Sunday afternoon …[/CENTER]

The other older folk then joined in and made the trip very jolly indeed singing some very old songs.

“Bel, will ya tell me wor’it were like for you in’t fifties?”

“I were just a very small child in Scotland then Crusty, burra can tell ya worra gor’up to in’t sixties after we’d moved to England if that’s any good to ya!”

“Okay Bel, thackle be grand!”

“Well, I’ve told ya a few things about me going to Manchester University an’ all that, burra was also in th’Hells Angels back then an’a rode me bike wi’t gang, but we were all pussy cats in them days. Our chapter didn’t cause any bother!”

“Wot do they call 'em Hell’s Angels for then Bel?”

The question surprised her.

“Well if yer really interested lad I’ll explain it to you. It all started in America in 1948. Some people called 'em marauding thugs bur’it weren’t true. After’t war the GIs went home in 1945, but peacetime were proper disappointing for some of 'em and they wanted more action and freedom. So, they took to motor bikes and started cruising 'cos motor bikes were cheap in them days.”

“So wot did they do then Bel?”

“Well I’m goin’t tell ya! Any road up, they went drag racing on their bikes and blowing off steam so people said they raised hell. Originally, they called themselves the P!ssed Off Bastards which got shortened to POBs so they wouldn’t offend anybody. They raced down roads drunk, but the Police couldn’t do owt to help and some of 'em terrorised people. It all started in a place called Fontana California in 1948 and a new Club was formed called Hell’s Angels by disgruntled bikers. That’s how it all got started, so now ya know.”

“Did they all grunt Bel?”

“Not grunt ya daft owd dimwit - they were disgruntled, which means they were p!ssed off!”

“Oh! Ta Bel. That were dead interesting that were. Yer proper clever at knowing all sorts o’ things.”

“Don’t be daft. Oh look Crusty, th’owd cooling towers over there. Can ya see 'em? They’re a proper funny shape aren’t they?”

“That’s wot ya calls hyperbolic parabaloid shape Bel!”

[SIZE=“3”]“Ya wot?”[/SIZE]

“Wot? Yeh that’s wot they’re called Bel, honest. Hyperbolic parabaloid! It’s summat to do with their tensile strength, I think.”

“Weer’s’t getten that from?”

“I’ve started watching Open University at neet just before I go’t bed. I seems’t be able’t remember things better if I hear about 'em just before I go’t sleep!”

“Tha’ll be speykin’ fluent Japanese in a bit!”

[Mollie]

She decided she’d find out more about that from the Internet. It sounded too good for something Crusty might have made up out of his feeble brain cell.

“Was there anything else ya wanted to remember owd lad?”

“Well I were just thinkin’ about all them owd puppet shows. D’ya remember Fireball XL5 with Steve Zodiac? Oh and Ford Zodiac cars and Ford Zephyrs and Consuls!”

“I do remember them owd lad. Fancy remembering summat like that!”

“And then there were Troy Tempest in Super Car. I used like Four Feather Falls an’ all and thar’orse’s name were Rocky weren’t it an’ it had a big cardboard face?”

She sat chuckling at him.

“Pongo the Pirate, Torchy the Battery Boy and Muffin the Mule! Ya know Bel ya can ger’arrested these days for doin’ that! I liked Andy Pandy and all them!”

“Ya know summat lad. It’s a bluddy shame ya can’t write proper. Ya could’ve written it all down wot ya remembers!”

“I don’t need’t write it down Bel, 'cos it’s all stashed away in me brains!”

She gulped back another snort.

“Oh! And do ya remember the Nit Nurse in school Bel? We used’t call her Nitty Nora the bug explorer!”

She started tittering.

“I do that lad, I do remember. I think everybody called the nit nurse that.”

“I fancy doin’ some painting in me house again Bel. Me bedroom could do wi’ a lick o’ new paint. I think I’ll go to’t wallpaper shop on Pem tomorrer and get some nice white paint an’ have a do.”

“D’ya want me to come and help Crusty?”

“No Bel, bur’if I get stuck will ya come?”

“Course I will. In fact, I’ll come anyway!”

Crusty wasn’t listening. He was stuck in the 1950s again.

“Hey, d’ya remember th’owd arcade in Wigan? The really, really old one? It had a pub called Legs O’ Man which looked like it were running all’t way from’t top to’t bottom and there were a lickle caff called Gorner’s? D’ya remember Bel?”

“No lad. How could I? When I were a young lass I lived in Scotland, remember?”

“Oh yes, ya did didn’t ya. Well, Gorner’s Caff were said to be’t best in Wigan and they had bluddy beltin’ pies in there. Just outside there were this man wi’ a big chair and ya could sit on it and he’d tell ya wot weight you were. There were Makinson’s coffee shop at bottom o’ Makinson’s Arcade an’ all and nice ladies would go upstairs in there for morning coffee and biscuits. The ground coffee allers smelled beautiful Bel and ya could smell it all over Wigan.”

He stopped for a moment and gazed into space, his mind cast back in time to when he was a happy young man.

“Silcock’s Fair’d come and set up on’t Market Square every year, which were made o’ cobbles, an’ it’d stop theer a week and everybody would go Bel. Me mam’d give me half a crown an’ me dad’d gi’ me half a crown’t get rid o’ me for a few hours. Five bob! It were only a tanner a ride so I could have had ten rides all for’t price of wor’equals twenty five pence today Bel. I used ayte most of it though on candy floss, doughnuts and stuff and then I’d go on’t Waltzer and it’d mek me sick! Those were the days! It’s all gone now Bel, all gone!”

“Ne’ mind me owd beef burger. They say that there’s no such thing as time travel, but there is when ya think about it. Just so long as ya can remember when ya was younger, ya can travel back to that time, in yer mind. That way it’s kept all nice and fresh and clean and nobody can tek thar’away from ya owd lad.”

“That’s true Bel. Nobody can tek me brains away can they?”

“Er … No lad! Ya’ve already been lobotomised!”

“Ta Bel!”

By now the boat had returned and all that was left of this part of their jaunt was the tour of Trencherfield Mill, which had been a cotton factory way back.

They worked their way around the bobbins, the cards, the shuttles and all the other machinery and then went into where the huge mill wheel stood. Apparently, it is said that it’s the largest working steam mill wheel in the world and it is very impressive indeed. At three o’clock precisely, everyone was frightened out of their wits when the pressure gauges were attended to and the huge workings were allowed to let off steam, which culminated in an extremely loud klaxon placed on the outside of the mill. Everyone laughed at their own silliness as that was exactly what most of them came to hear, but not everyone was so fortunate if they chose the wrong time of day to view. But Bel hadn’t prepared Crusty and he leapt up off the ground into Bel’s arms shaking like a leaf.

“Wot were that?”

“Only th’owd blower goin’ off lad. It’s nowt to worry about. Look at all these beautiful gauges and things all done in brass. Look how highly polished they are!”

“Yeh they look proper nice Bel. It must tek a lorra cleaning’t keep 'em like that. So, wot’s next then Bel? Have we done now?”

“We’ve done here owd lad, burram tekkin’ ya home now so as ya can have a wash while ya smell. I’ve brought a change o’ clothes with me in’t car so I’ll have a wash and get changed at your house, then we’re goin’ somewhere else for our 1950s day!”

“Oh, reet, I thowt that were it. I’d’ve bin proper satisfied as I’ve really enjoyed meself very muchly. Where are ya tekkin’ me to next then Bel!”

“It’s a surprise! Did I ever tell ya that th’owd Volvo doubles as a time machine?”

“No Bel???”

“Well it does, and it’s going to transport us fifty years back in time owd lad!”

© Mollie M
01.09.03

[Berxer]

Enjoyed reading that - going down memory lane I recall playing hopscotch, and some of those TV ads and I loved Andy Pandy

Looking forward to reading the next one

[Mollie]

@Berxer

Enjoyed reading that - going down memory lane I recall playing hopscotch, and some of those TV ads and I loved Andy Pandy

Looking forward to reading the next one

Thanks Carmen. I’m just about to put on the follow-up to this.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]123

Sock Around the Clock
(and Crusty Shops for Paint!)[/CENTER][/B]

They popped back up the road to Crusty’s house where Bel made him have another wash and clean himself up, but he was to put his Teddy boy outfit back on again when he’d finished.

While he was doing that, Bel retrieved a bag from the boot of her car then set to cooking them a meal before going on to their next place to complete their 1950s day.

Crusty came back downstairs again just as Bel finished cooking. He was scrubbed all pink and shiny and she smiled at him.

“Ya look a lot better now owd lad. Neh then, come and get yer dinner etten. I’ve cooked us some chops, sausages, chips, peas and gravy. Is thar’okay for ya owd lad?”

Drooool, slavver!

“Oh yis Bel, ta very muchly. Am bluddy hungry again!”

“Nowt new there then!”

They sat down and had a good munch. The fresh air had given them extra keen appetites and they were wolfing their food down like there was no tomorrow.

“Now then me owd fruit bat. I want you to wash these pots up nice and clean, dry them and pur’em away in’t cupboards while I go up yer stairs.”

His face drained again.

“Worra ya goin’ up me stairs fo’ Bel?”

“I’ve brought a change of clothing with me lad. I can’t go out at neet in’t same clothes I’ve been wearing all day!”

“Why?”

"Shurrup! Wot’s up? Is yer bathroom in grot state AGAIN?"

“No, not really Bel. You’re very welcome to use my facilities. Ya just took me by surprise, that’s all!”

“Reet, I’ll not be long then.”

Up the stairs she went into the bathroom and a minute later Crusty heard his shower running. Naturally, she’d taken her own bath towel with her, but it took her ages to find Crusty’s soap but, when she eventually did, she’d had to spend a good ten minutes de-fluffing it!

Crusty was trying to imagine his Bel taking all of her clothes off in his house? He tittered then smacked himself one across the mush for thinking naughty thoughts. She’d kill him stone dead if he so much as peeked through that tiny hole in his bathroom door, so he thought it perhaps best if he carried out her instructions and washed the pots.

Twenty minutes later she came back down the stairs and Crusty’s face was a picture when he saw her.

He started tittering again.

“Wot’s thy bluddy tittering at again?”

“Bel, Bel, wor’ave ya gor’on at all? How long ‘ave ya had them? Weer did ya ger’em from? Ya looks bluddy beltin’ Bel!”

“One question at a time owd lad. Wor’ave gor’on is a fifties rock and roll outfit. I’ve had 'em for a very long time an’a can’t remember where I gor’em from, okay lad?”

He beamed at her and stuck his thumb in his mouth as he walked all the way around her, looking her up and down.

Not a short journey!

She was wearing a very full ballerina length skirt which was bright orange with large black polka dots, masses of netting for the underskirt and white flat dancing pumps. Her top was black with a scoop neck and long tight fitting sleeves. Had she been a size twelve she would have looked fantastic but, being nineteen stone and five foot eleven, she looked more like a monstrous standard lamp! She’d done her hair up in a 1950s beehive and had done her make up in accordance with that decade.

“But wor’ave ya got dressed up like that fo’? Weer are we goin’ then Bel?”

“Ya’ll know soon enough. Neh lad, wot time is it?”

“Er, let me see. I think I know the answer. Is it feeding time Bel?”

“Ya’ve just etten! I weren’t askin’ ya a bluddy riddle, I want to know wot time it is!”

“Oh reet, sorry, it’s half past five owd girl!”

“Right, come on then. We’re goin’ to Blackpool!”

Well, he started doing cartwheels again, dive bombing his new couch, squealing and shrieking. Nobody loves Blackpool more than Crusty.

“Blackpool Bel? Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t saying BLACKPOOL BELLE. I were saying Blackpool - Bel? D’ya ger’it?”

“I ger’it lad. Neh then, we look a right bluddy pair don’t we? Come on, off we go as it teks over an hour to get to Blackpool!”

Once more in the car Bel took the wheel and drove them to Blackpool. Crusty was on his very best behaviour and didn’t need his colouring book or anything else to keep him quiet. He was so excited about this unexpected trip that he behaved himself as best he could so that he wouldn’t anger his Bel. She’d only have turned the car round and taken him home again if he’d started off with his monkey tricks.

As soon as he could see Blackpool Tower he started bouncing about on his seat again, but kept quiet. She pulled up outside a large building and they went inside, Bel having first paid five pounds each for their entrance fees.

Crusty’s eyes widened when he saw the inside.

“Bel, this is exacertackerly like the fifties when me and Soreen used go to’t dance halls. It’s just like th’owd Emp in Wigan! It were called Wigan Casino after that! Exacertackerly!”

There was a bar which served alcohol, but there was also a milk bar which sold coffee, tea, etc and had tall stools that had chrome legs and round red leather seats. The dance floor was just plain floorboards and the whole place had that murky dusty look so, whoever had opened the place, had painstakingly recreated the ambience of a fifties dance hall.

They found a table and sat down watching the dancers on the dance floor. There was music coming from a very old original Wurlitzer juke box booted up through amplifiers and speakers. There was nothing of the modern day about this place whatsoever, except for the prices of things, and it just felt like they’d stepped fifty years back in time.

It was wonderful.

Just then the music finished and a microphone squealed feed-back from a high impedance mike from somewhere, then a man’s voice made an announcement.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure in announcing our entertainment for this evening. Please welcome, live on stage, the fabulous Blue Tones!”

Huge cheers and applause from the audience, the heavy red velvet curtains swished back and there stood a five piece band all playing instruments. There was one of them that actually played a double bass, which is a rarity these days. They started off with Blue Moon which had originally been recorded by The Marcels.

They played only fifties rock and roll, rhythm and blues, doo-wap and the odd ballad to remind them of Ricky Nelson, Marty Wilde, Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis, Joe Brown, Tommy Steele, Guy Mitchell and all those other wonderful recording artistes of the day. Crusty and Bel joined the younger, and not so younger, dancers and they danced till their legs ached.

Crusty was having a whale of a time and when they sat down for a rest his tongue flopped down onto his chest with fatigue. When he finally managed to get his breath back he grinned across at Bel, who was also panting.

“Bel! This has been the very bestest day I’ve ever had in me whole life. It’s better than any o’ them jaunts ya ever took me on. This is one day I’ll remember for’t rest of me days!”

“I’m glad yer enjoying it owd fettler. I must admit tharrave never enjoyed meself so much either. We should’ve done this a long while ago shouldn’t we?”

“Yis Bel. How long has this Club bin goin’ for?”

“Not sure owd lad, bur’it’s bin goin’ a few years I believe. It’s very popular as lots o’ folk still love th’owd fifties music.”

“I can see that. Can we come again sometime please?”

“We certainly can me smelly owd mogwump. You keep that Teddy boy outfit in good condition!”

“I will that Bel.”

The group took a short break for about fifteen minutes and then were back on stage, wearing a new set of stage wear. Even Crusty had noticed how hard they were working, and they played three forty five minute spots with just a fifteen minute break each time.

The dance floor was never empty at any time during the whole of the evening, and most of the people had also come wearing similar clothing to Crusty and Bel, so they didn’t look out of place, for once. Anything but! Those who had just come wearing ordinary clothes were the ones who looked out of place.

“D’ya want a milk shake Crusty?”

“Ooh yes please Bel. I’ve nor’ad a milk shake in years. Wot colours have they getten?”

“They’ve got strawberry, lemon, lime, chocolate, raspberry, banana and …”

“Banana please Bel!”

“I thowt ya’d say that. I’ll get ya one with some ice cream in it shall I owd lad?”

“Ta Bel. I likes an ice cream milk shake!”

She got their shakes with straws and started sucking on the fluffy milk. They were totally deee-lish and Crusty slurped his up in no time.

[Mollie]

“Have they gor’owt t’ayte in here Bel?”

“Course they have lad. This is a fifties dance hall! They’ve getten chips and chicken in a basket, steak barm cakes …”

“Chicken in a basket please Bel!”

“I didn’t say I were goin’t buy ya owt t’ayte! Yer nor’ungry again are ya?”

Need she have asked?

“Yis Bel. Am starverating again!”

“Okay, I’ll ger’us some then. You stop here and don’t go wandering off by yerself, okay?”

“Promise Bel. I’ll just sit and watch all these beltin’ dancers. They do a lorra beltin’ moves don’t they Bel? I used be able’t do some o’ them routines, burram too owd now aren’t I?”

“Ne’ mind owd lad. Don’t start gerrin depressed again. I’ll just go and ger’us our scran. Stop there!”

She went to the cafeteria, joined the queue of hungry folk and ordered the food, which took twenty minutes. She jiggled and joggled along to the music back to their table only to find Crusty had done yet another disappearing act.

“Neh then! Where’s he getten to this time?”

A couple in their forties at the next table heard her and started grinning.

“Excuse me missus. Is that yer hubby o’er there?”

Crustabel spun round and looked where the man was pointing. Her face went grey, then green, then bright pink.

“He’s not me bluddy hubby th’owd sod! I towd him’t stop where he were an’ he’s gone and disobeyed me again!”

“Oops. We’ve not got th’owd lad into bother have we missus?”

“No lad, he’s getten hisself in bother, as usual!”

There he was on the dance floor with a slenderly-built woman in her early fifties. He was trying to show off by slinging her over his back and all over the place. Bel continued to watch for a while and he was doing okay until he decided to slide her under his short bandy legs. The poor unsuspecting woman followed the steps and slid underneath, her nose barely missing his undercarriage, and when she came out the other side her eyes had watered up. She let go of his hands and sat there in the middle of the dance floor gagging for air.

Good Old Stinky, his favourite knickers, was at full wallop again.

The group, also gagging for air, stopped playing part way through the song and disappeared off stage, as did the other dancers from the dance floor. Crusty, unaware of what was happening continued to bop about on his own around the woman on the floor, not realising that he no longer had a partner, or any music to dance to. There was a deathly hush in the hall and all they could hear was Crusty singing along to himself and the clomping of his feet on the bare boards.

And the squelching of his socks.

[CENTER]One, two, three o’clock four o’clock (splish)
Five, six, seven o’clock eight o’clock (splash)
Nine, ten, eleven o’ clock twelve o’clock (squelch)
We’re gonna (splash), around the clock tonight[/CENTER]

Everybody in the place was cringing at his voice and they all bellowed out at the same time.

[CENTER][SIZE=“4”]“SHAAAAA - DAAAP!”[/SIZE][/CENTER]

Then it dawned on him at the exact moment that his dance partner, still sitting on the floor, screamed out loud.

“Ya nasty arsed owd gobsh!te! Wor’ave ya farted on me for and why d’yer feet stink o’ sh!t?”

That was when the smell started to waft outwards from the dance floor in an emerald green spiral, the circle spreading further and further ever increasingly into the room like ripples on a lake.

“Sorry missus. I didn’t mean it, bur’it just seeped out when ya went under me legs. Where’s everybody gone? Wor’appened to’t group? It’s not time for 'em’t tek a break yet! Bel?”

“Ger’o’er here and get yerself sat down. On second thoughts, get to’t lavvy first ya grotty arsed owd sod, then ya can come back and get yer chips etten!”

“Ta Bel, sorry Bel. Sorry everybody. Crusty didn’t mean it. It just seeped out all by itself. Am sorry lady, are ya alreet now? No permanent damage?”

The lady hauled herself up off the floor with a terrible expression on her face. She looked as if she’d just been flattened by a hurricane. She grabbed hold of her nose and started wafting the air with her arm, much like the chimp had done when they were up on the trapeze.

“They’ve no bluddy business lerrin folk like you in a place like this ya dirty owd sod! Didn’t ya know ya were goin’t do that? Everybody can feel it when they’ve gor’a fart brewin’ and they take the necessary action to avoid offending folk! Ya did it on purpose didn’t ya?”

“No I didn’t missus, honest to God I didn’t. Tell her Bel. Tell her tharrave gor’a problem.”

Bel stepped in then.

[SIZE=“3”]“Get to that lavvy NOW ya moiderin’ owd wind bag or ya will have a bluddy problem, WI’ ME!!”[/SIZE]

He shambled off and the old-fashioned whirly bird fans were switched on. The group came back and continued and the dancers returned to the floor. Crusty came lolloping back ten minutes later looking very shame faced. People were pointing and laughing at him and he felt so embarrassed.

“Sit ya down and get that food etten before it goes bluddy cowd!”

“Ta Bel. Am proper sorry. I’ve gone and ruined the most wonderful day I’ve ever had in me whole smelly existence. Am proper sorry.”

“Ya’ve not ruined it lad. Ya’ve made a bluddy show of yerself, AND ME, again, bur’it’s not totally ruined. Wor’ever made ya ger’up to dance wi’ that woman? Poor bugger must’ve thowt all her troubles had come at once when ya farted on her, and why in God’s name did ya sling her under yer legs. Have ya got no idea at all wot yer undercarriage looks and smells like?”

“No Bel. Is it nor’a pretty sight?”

“It most definitely isn’t, especially when it pongs like it does! It’s amazing! Ya’ve even had a shower today and ya still stinks!”

“Thackle be through’t farts though won’t it Bel?”

“Aye, and yer sh!tty feet as well!”

He sighed heavily and sulked.

The group then announced its final song of the evening and Bel and Crusty sat it out, preferring to watch the others.

“Come on then owd lad. Time for wom. Have ya enjoyed yer 1950s day?”

“I most certainly have owd lass. I never knew I could enjoy meself so much, an’am sorry I nearly spoiled it by fartin’ on that lady. I really didn’t do it o’ purpose ya know?”

“I know. Come on lad, let’s hit the road.”

While Bel was driving them back to Wigan, Crusty decided to give her a little treat by singing several old songs from the fifties and for once she let him.

[CENTER]Penus if you will
Please send to me a lickle bowl o’ swill
Because am bluddy hungry an’ it’s true
I could ayte some stew …[/CENTER]

[Mollie]

“Shaddap! [SIZE=“3”]And it’s bluddy Venus!!”[/SIZE]

“Sorry. Ya know Bel. I used have an owd Alba record player. I think I’ve still gor’it somewhere. D’ya think ickle still play records?”

“I doubt it owd lad. Them bluddy needles used’t be as thick as knitting needles didn’t they? In any case, ya use your new owd record player now don’t ya, that’s a bit more modern?”

“I know. We’ve come a long way wi’ cassettes and CDs haven’t we Bel? At least I’ve still getten me owd Macaroni from them days. It’s a wonder it’s still goin’, bur’it’s bin beltin’ since I put that new valve in it a while back!”

“Aye, they made 'em to last didn’t they me owd chuckleberry!”

“Aye!”

“They did that!”

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

The next day was Monday and both Crusty and Bel had special jobs to attend to.

Once she was at work she immediately got onto the Internet and looked up all information on cooling towers, together with technical specifications. She was aghast when she read that the shape of cooling towers was indeed called hyperbolic parabaloid, and she read on with regard as to why they were constructed that way.

Fascinating! Reinforced steel and concrete were interwoven and the engineers had tried different shapes for them to do the job properly, but had taken quite some time before they came up with the shape we’re all familiar with. Even more fascinating was the fact that Crusty had remembered such difficult technical words but, as he’d said, he was able to remember things better if he learned them just before he went to sleep, which is pretty normal, if you happen to be normal!

Back over in Pemberton, Crusty finished work at one then trundled down the road to the wallpaper shop to look for some paint. On his first day back at work after his two month disappearance, Jim and the customers welcomed him back with open arms and had allowed him to do his little job in peace and quiet.

But they were plotting!!

Anyway, he whooshed into the wallpaper shop and saw the owner, Mister Sherman, standing behind the counter. He was a nice man with a very dry sense of humour, and as Crusty zoomed in, the shop keeper placed both hands on the counter and stared at him with no expression whatsoever on his face.

“Neh then lad, has yer arse caught fire again?”

“No, why? Hiya, I’m Crusty!”

“I’m nor’in the least bit surprised after wor’appened to yer arse a bit back. The whole o’ Pemberton heard about that. Neh, wot canna do for ya lad and wor’at rushing about for?”

“Were I rushing? I didn’t know. I think it’s normal for me that!”

Mister Sherman stood and stared at him and Crusty stared back with his big lollopy grin all over his face.

“Well?”

“Well wot?”

“Wot canna get ya?”

“I’ve forgetten worrave come in for now!”

"Well this is a wallpaper shop so ya’ll not be able’t ger any fish and chips, an’a can’t sell ya a new pair o’ knickers even though it smells like ya need some. I can, however, sell ya wallpaper in exclusive tasteful designs in vinyl, embossed, flock, blown vinyl, ordinary paper in beautiful colours and patterns, textured paper, linen paper and paper paper. They come in stripes, spots, flowers, abstract designs and every other type ya could want and we’ve getten anaglypta that ya could paint over!

“Anna who? Why would I want to paint over a lady?”

Mister Sherman rolled up his eyes.

“Then I’ve got pastes of varying strengths, brushes of every size, paint of every hue and colour, stencils, door handles, bog seats, shower curtains, all sorts. Can ya not remember lad?”

Crusty stood there with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Come on now owd lad. I’m nor’asking ya a question on quantum mechanics. Ya must’ve come in for summat.”

Crusty brightened.

“Oh, I remembers now. I’ve come for some paint!”

“Wot sort o’ paint d’ya want lad?”

“Why? Are there different types?”

“Yis lad. We’ve getten gloss paint, egg shell, vinyl silk, matt, vinyl matt, Sand Tex, cement paint, floor paint or masonry paint and varying shades of wood stain?”

“Er … I don’t know!”

“Well, wot’s it …”

“I know, I know. Have ya gor’a nice tin o’ Jellipex in white?”

"Jellipex? There’s bin no Jellipex for years owd lad! Where’s thy bin for’t last half a century?

“Oh! I’ve just remembered another jingle …”

He started doing a little dance around the shop.

[CENTER]Jellipex
Makes good painting easy![/CENTER]

The shop keeper stared at him unbelievingly.

“Worra ya on about lad? Are ya a full shillin’ or wot? Tha’s not bin smookin’ wacky backy have ya lad?”

“I’ve just come back from’t 1950s. My Bel took me in her time machine yesterday!”

Mister Sherman now realised that this customer wasn’t quite the full ten bob note.

“Right lad, of course she did. Now ya wanted some nice white paint didn’t ya owd fettler? Wot’s it fo’?”

“Painting wi’!”

Mister Sherman rolled up his eyes for the second time.

“Painting wot?”

“Me walls, bur’it’ll have’t be thick paint ‘cos am nor’a very good painter and’t last time I did any I painted over me leet switches and sockets an’a gor’it all o’er me an’ all! I gets thin paint all o’er everywhere ‘cos it runs. My Bel gid me a right peltin’ for that last time I did some!”

“Quite! Well, they’re all’t same thickness lad, more or less, so tha’ll just have’t be careful. Ickle be vinyl silk ya’ll be after.”

Mister Sherman went to a shelf and showed Crusty the tins of white paint on offer.

“Neh, d’ya want a big tin or a lickle tin?”

“I dunno. Will a lickle tin paint a whole room?”

“No lad, ya’ll need a big tin for that. Here y’are, a five litre tin. Thackle do all yer walls and’t ceiling as well and there’ll probably be a bit left over. Now then, will ya be needing a paint brush an’ all, or a roller?”

“Oh aye, I never thowt about that. Wot sort are there?”

Mister Sherman rolled up his eyes again.

[Mollie]

“Well, there’s foam rollers, sheepskin rollers, cheap 'uns, dear 'uns, long ‘uns, short ‘uns, some for goin’ down’t backs o’ radiators and we’ve getten extensions for reaching high up!”

Crusty stood there with his thumb in his mouth and rocking on his ankles.

“Ya ger’a lorra choices don’t ya! I’ll have a six inch paint brush. No! I’ll tek two then I can have a brush in each hand so as I can do’t job in half o’t time! Thackle do!”

“Reet!”

Returning to the counter he rang the amount up on the till then held his hand out to Crusty for payment.

“Thackle be thirty pound fifty seven lad!”

“How much?”

“Thirty pound fifty seven! Or, being as ya’ve just come back in yer time machine, we’ll call it thirty pound eleven and three 'appence!”

“I’ve not gor’any ‘appences! I can’t afford that. I didn’t know paint cost all that much money. I thowt it would only be a couple o’ quid. Ta very muchly, burrall just have’t ler’it fester for another few years unless my Bel comes and buys it for me! Ta-ta!”

He whooshed off leaving the shop owner standing there with his hand still out, mouth open and shaking his head in total disbelief.

Mister Sherman was just getting over the shock of having Crusty as a customer when he whooshed back into the shop again.

“Alreet, alreet. It’s pieway robbery, burrall tek the brushes and paint after all. I towd my Bel I were goin’t paint me bedroom and if it’s not done when her comes next time her’ll only gi’ me a clout!”

Back home, Crusty made a start almost immediately. It didn’t occur to him to cover everything over before he began.

He opened the tin, didn’t bother to stir the paint, and dipped the brush in. He started painting around the curtains first, then across the wall for as high as he could reach. He painted around the chest of drawers without moving them and then he started to get bored.

“This is goin’t tek me forever! Hey up. I’ve just had a bright idea!”

Oh really?

He picked up the tin and faced the next wall which was devoid of any pictures, curtains or furniture then, with a mighty heave, he swung the paint tin and its contents splashed all over the wall.

Very quickly he put the tin down on the carpet, leaving a white paint mark, and grabbed his brushes. Faster than a speeding bullet he combed both brushes through the paint to the left and the right, up and down trying to catch all the runs as quickly as he could, and smoothed it out, but there was too much paint on the wall and it started to bleed down over the skirting board and onto the carpet, and paint dripped off the ends of his brushes.

“Oh hecky pecky! Its nor’as easy as it looks. My Bel were good at this!”

He’d only painted a wall and a half and already he was virtually out of paint, there being only an inch and a half left at the bottom of the five litre tin.

“Neh then! That Mister Sherman said as this tin’d do me ceiling and me walls and have a lickle bit left over, bur’it’s gone nowhere near! I’ll have’t go and ger’another tin.”

Without bothering to change, he shambled off back to the shop and when Mister Sherman saw him walk in he ducked down behind the counter. However, just as quickly he bobbed back up again making Crusty jump.

“Hiya! Crusty here again! I wondered where ya’d gone. I needs another tin o’ that paint ya sold me. It didn’t go anywhere near an’ave only getten a lickle tiny bit left in’t bottom o’t tin! It’s only done one wall!”

“Why? Ya’ve only bin gone half an hour! How big’s yer room? Ya’ve never put five bluddy litres o’ paint on one wall have ya? There were enough in that tin to paint a bluddy ballroom! Mind you, ya’ve getten half a tin o’ paint on yer yed. Alreet, I’ll get ya another lad!”

Once again Crusty handed him the money in payment and he sloped off back home to continue his work. He was getting worn out by now and he slowly climbed the stairs to his bedroom, opened the door and leapt back in horror when he saw his walls.

“Oh no! Worrava gone and done this time?”

“Are ya in Crusty? It’s your Bel come a-caaaaalling!”

“Oh no! I daresn’t let my Bel see this. Her’ll bluddy kill me stone dead for this! Wot’s her come for anyway? It’s half past four!”

He scuttled out of his bedroom and called to her.

“Oh, hiya Bel. I weren’t expecticating you today. Am just coming down. Not be a minute!”

“I told ya I’d be coming Crusty. D’ya never listen to worram saying?”

He walked sedately down the stairs and trundled into the kitchen where she was putting the kettle on. He was trying to act nonchalant and engaged in idle chit chat while her back was turned.

“Turned out nice again han’t it Bel? Wor’a lovely day’t go for a nice drive to Southport or somewhere! Anywhere really as long as we ger’out o’ th’ouse!”

She started to turn round to face him.

"Well, being as ya was called doing some painting today owd lad I thowt I’d … [SIZE=“3”] Wot the bluddy hell have ya bin doing?"[/SIZE]

“Doing Bel? I’ve bin doing nowt!”

“Then why are covered from yed to bluddy fooot in paint?”

“Amma? I wonder how that got there!”

“Ger’out o’t road and let me have a look at wot ya’ve done at yer bedroom. Ya’d better nor’ave started trying’t paint it on yer own!”

She brushed past him, almost knocking him down and he took off in a different direction.

[SIZE=“3”]“Crusty. Get yer maggoty little arse up here. RIGHT NOW!”[/SIZE]

But Crusty had disappeared again. He could hear her as he was still in the house, but he was racking his brain cell under the stairs trying to think up some excuse that she’d believe.

Nothing came to mind so he stayed in his hiding place.

Two minutes later the door to under the stairs opened and there stood his Bel with a look on her face that could have frozen the Sahara Desert.

“There y’are! Come out o’ theer, Turd of Turd Hall!”

“Just coming Bel!”

© Mollie M
10.09.03

[Berxer]

Brilliant! That was really funny when he was dancing with the lady (won’t say too much, because Marian hasn’t read it yet ).

He certainly can’t paint can he? He’d best stick to his colouring books

[marpaul]

Thanks Carmen, am too tired to read tonight, will catch up tomorrow

[Mollie]

@Berxer

Brilliant! That was really funny when he was dancing with the lady (won’t say too much, because Marian hasn’t read it yet ).

He certainly can’t paint can he? He’d best stick to his colouring books

I had a lot of fun writing that one.

[marpaul]

Another good read Mollie. Can’t believe he chucked the tin of paint at the wall to paint it, duh!! I liked the explanation as to how they got 3 sacks of coal instead of 2 You’ve got a good memory for remembering all the 50s stuff :)

[Mollie]

Ah thanks, Marian. Hope you enjoyed the first part of that story - Chapter 122.

Yep, for my sins, I have an excellent memory, and I’ve got good recall as well. Don’t know why, but I just do; but, ask me what I had for me tea on Monday and I’d have no clue!

[marpaul]

Yes the first part was good as well, like the 3 sacks of coal and Crusty recalling his youth. He’s got a good memory for the old days I cant remember as much as him!

[Mollie]

@marpaul

Yes the first part was good as well, like the 3 sacks of coal and Crusty recalling his youth. He’s got a good memory for the old days I cant remember as much as him!

Oh aye, sorry Marian. You’ve caught up now with the last two chapters.

What you have to realise is, is that Crusty’s memories, are actually my own so, in a sort of way, part of me is Crusty, but not all of him, I hasten to add, because I’m not as daft as him, and definitely not as smelly!

[marpaul]

ha ha yes I guessed that! Good memories they are too. I loved him describing where he used to live and the shops and the people in them. I could really imagine it as well

[Mollie]

@marpaul

ha ha yes I guessed that! Good memories they are too. I loved him describing where he used to live and the shops and the people in them. I could really imagine it as well

Those were my very own childhood memories when I lived on Darlington Street, which Crusty mentioned. The shops were exactly as told in the story, even down to Cornelius Latchford who was registrar of Births, Deaths & Marriages, and those names did exist.

The TV shop was my mum and dad’s, although I’ve changed their surname.

Hope you enjoyed the encounter in the decorating shop as well with Mister Sherman (another change of name, but the shop did exist).

I really can’t begin to thank you enough for reading these, and commenting in a very positive way for me. They’re not everybody’s sense of humour, but I truly am glad you enjoy them, and there’s more fun to come.

[Mollie]

[B][CENTER]124

Crusty Gets Back to Normal
(Whatever That Is!)[/CENTER][/B]

He trundled up the stairs to where his Bel was waiting for him. She opened the door to his bedroom and shoved him through towering over him, face like thunder, hands on hips, bottom lip curled down.

A familiar sight!

“Worrava done now Bel?”

“I’ll tell ya wot ya’ve done, ya lazy owd scrawl. Ya’ve started painting wi’ a brush round yer curtains and chest o’ drawers then ya got fed up. So wot ya did was, ya splashed a big load o’ paint all o’er yer walls, didn’t ya? [SIZE=“3”]DIDN’T YA?”[/SIZE]

“Bel! Ya’ve getten this uncanny way of knowing exacertackerly wor’ave bin doing. How d’ya manage it?”

“Shaddap!”

He jumped.

“Sorry Bel!”

“Wot were ya thinking of at all ya daft owd ditch rat? Just look at the state o’ these bluddy walls, and the rest of this room now.”

When Crusty had thrown the paint at the wall and spread as much of it as he could with the brushes he’d completely soaked all the wallpaper over which he was painting. Of course he’d then left it all when he went for another tin of paint and on his return he found that all the paper had dropped away from the wall because it had been so badly saturated.

“Can we not just stick the paper back on Bel?”

“Wot wi’? It’ll all have’t come off now.”

“Well can we not manage’t scrape some o’t paint back into’t tin? I’ve spent a lorra money on that an’a cawn’t afford for it to be wasted.”

She was silently calling him all the names under the sun and then she rounded on him angrily.

“If ya’d done’t bluddy job proper in’t first place, none of it would’ve bin wasted. Neh go and get some bin bags and we’ll get this paper off. The bluddy paint’s gerrin everywhere.”

He brought some bin bags and they stripped the rest of the paper away from the walls. Luckily he’d only done the one wall but even so, much of it had gone onto the carpet, splashed across the curtains barely missing the OBJ with a whisker but Jim and Jam had copped a fair bit. Making an easy job difficult, Crusty had turned a couple of hours work into an all day affair.

“Am lucky ya called on me when ya did Bel otherwise I’d’ve bin in a reet state by now!”

“Lucky! When were you ever lucky? It’s about time ya threw that bluddy owd lucky kipper away once and for all as it’s never brought ya any luck!”

“Yer right there Bel! Happen I’ll change it for a lucky eel instead!”

“Don’t you bluddy well dare. That’s disgusting!”

He started tittering behind his hand so she walloped him.

“Ouch! Ya’ve not hit me for a long while Bel. I were beginning to think ya’d lost yer touch!”

“Don’t bluddy tempt me. There’s bin many a time I could’ve clouted ya one burra didn’t so think yerself lucky!”

“Yer right again Bel! Pr’aps I will keep me lucky kipper then after all!”

With that he whooshed off knowing she was about to give him another smack.

Once all the paper was off the walls Bel set to painting his bedroom, having first removed the curtains which he’d managed to daub in paint.

“Right Crusty! While I’m doing this you can go and ger’under’t shower!”

“Wot fo’? Am alreet as I am!”

She put the paint brush down carefully on the tin lid, grabbed his arms, turned him round and marched him toward the long mirror.

“Look at yerself! Yer covered from head to toe in paint. Now ger’under’t shower!”

“I didn’t know I’d done all this Bel. I did ask at the shop for some Jellipex so as I wouldn’t ger’it all o’er me and now look at the state o’ me. I must’ve gone to’t shops for me new tin o’ paint lookin’ like this!”

“Nowt surprises me anymore, now get gone!”

It took him ages to scrub the paint off his neck, arms and face with the scouring pad she’d given him to use, and the clothes he’d been wearing had to be binned.

Bel suddenly stopped in her tracks and shouted through the wall to where he was still in the bathroom.

[SIZE=“3”]“Wot d’ya ya mean ya asked for a tin o’ Jellipex, soft lad? No wonder folks laugh at ya all’t time!”[/SIZE]

He came out of the shower all wrinkly and crinkly which put him in a bad mood. It wasn’t natural to be this clean.

“Well I didn’t know they’d stop making thar’an’all Bel. Don’t shout at me like that!”

At six o’clock Bel sent him to the chippy for their tea as she didn’t have time to stop and cook so he sloped off to Loch Street and got them their chippy suppers. He hadn’t dared to ask her for any money so he’d grudgingly paid for it from his own pocket. He took the fish and chips up to her, still in the wrapping, and cautiously opened the door. He was afraid of knocking her off the ladder thereby culminating in a right good pasting. She turned and glared at him as he entered, snatched the food off him, then shoved him back out again.

He went to the kitchen and ate his tea alone and in silence, tears welling up in his eyes again. He hadn’t meant to annoy her but he’d gone and done it yet again, hadn’t he. When he’d finished he put the kettle on and made them a mug of tea each. Once again, he clambered up the stairs and tapped quietly on the door.

“Who’s theer?”

“It’s only your Crusty come a-calling Bel! He’s gor’a nice cup o’ tea here for ya!”

“Has he now!”

She opened the door again and took the cup from him, shoved the chip papers in his hands, then shoved him out of the door again.

Many hours later there was a bellow which would have woken up everybody in Pemberton, had they all been asleep at the same time, which by now they probably were.

He was in the bathroom again at the time.

“Crusty! Wot’s that bluddy festerin’ stink? Wor’ave ya done?”

“Nowt!”

“Wot d’ya mean nowt? It stinks like a bluddy grave! Are you farting in there?”

“Be quiet Bel or ya’ll wake me neighbours! I’ve only been to’t toilet Bel. I tried howding it in for as long as I could burra had to ler’it go! I allers go to’t bog just before I go’t bed so as I don’t do it in me sleep!”

“Bluddy hell! Get that bathroom window opened up then and ger’an air spray on’t job. Wor’a bluddy pong!”

“Sorry Bel. Bel?”

“Wot?”

“Have ya nearly done only it’s gerrin late an’am tired? It’s nearly time for me be-bo’s!”

“Worra ya tired for? Ya’ve done nowt!”

“Am still tired though. Bel?”

Silence!

“I’ll give him his bluddy be-bo’s!”

“Bel?”

Silence!

With his last statement she’d been on top of the ladder, paint tin and brush in hand, shaking with anger. Red faced she climbed down and opened the door where he stood on the other side with a butty in his hand.

Chomp, chomp!

“Wot?”

“I were just saying Bel. How long will ya be 'cos I’ll have’t go’t bed in a min …!”

Saying nothing, she took one step forward and painted the remains of his butty giving it two licks of vinyl silk. Then she brushed some paint across his forehead. He shut up, painted butty mid-way to his mouth. Then she painted the end of his nose. Then his chin, then a dab on each ear!

“Worrava done this time Bel?”

Once more she turned him round and shoved him through the door, adding a lick of paint to his bald patch on his way out. He stood on the landing outside trying to work out what he’d done to annoy her this time but gave up.

He went back into the bathroom, holding his breath from the pong, and started scrubbing again where she’d painted him, but he hadn’t felt the stroke of paint she’d put on the top of his head.

[Mollie]

“Her’s getten me all of a doo-dah now. I’d done all me going to bed things bur’as I cawn’t ger’in, I’ll have’t start all o’er again!”

Half way through he abandoned his scrub. He went back downstairs again, put the kettle on, made a butty, and when he’d done he returned to the bathroom, repeated his trip to the toilet, once more stinking the place out and was about to tap on the door again when he thought better of it.

“Oh Bel!”

“Wot?”

“I’ll just go and get me yed down in’t spare room for’t neet then Bel. It’s time for me be-bo’s now! Neet, neet!”

Silence.

It was close on one o’clock in the morning when she’d finally got the room into a habitable state again. She’d never imagined when she’d called upon him at half four that afternoon what she’d be letting herself in for and was beginning to wish she’d left him to it but it would only have made her job all the harder.

She closed the door on his newly painted bedroom, went into the bathroom for a wash but, before she went downstairs again, she peeked through the spare bedroom door and saw Crusty’s hooter sticking up in the air from under his nasty old eiderdown. It favvered an upside down four engine turbo prop two-seater bog! He’d left his night light on as he was afraid of the dark and she tip toed stealthily over to where he slumbered, casting a huge monstrous shadow on the wall.

Schnorrrrrrt! Mumble! Faaaaaart! Blobble!

“Phew! Smelly owd sod! Them bluddy nostrils of his don’t half take some cloggin’ an’ all!”

She still had the paint brush in one hand, which she’d been about to wash through, and held her nose with the other. Her eyes watered up in merriment as a thought occurred to her! She nipped downstairs and found what she was looking for in his cupboard where he kept his hardly used cleaning stuff then went back upstairs again.

She scraped some of the contents out of a tin onto a cloth and wiped the soft wax gently all over Crusty’s face. Then she took the paint brush and neatly painted his lips white and put a blob on the end of his conk.

“There! That’ll frikken him’t bluddy death when he wakens up and sees himself in’t mirror!”

She finished all the cleaning up then silently left the house making sure the doors were locked, lights were off and the telly unplugged.

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

Crusty awoke early the next morning with a happy beam on his face.

“Brekkie time! Neh then, that were a good neet’sh shleep. I think I might move into thish room as thish bed’sh a lot more comfy.”

Then he realised something.

Paaarp!

His Bel had spent a long time painting his room so dismissed the idea completely. He’d just move his beds round instead.

Paaarp, paaarp!

“Happen I’ll need a new carpet and other stuff in there now since I mucked it all up wi’ paint.”

Sulking, his belly started rumbling so he bounded out of bed and went straight to the toilet.

Paaaar-rip, blobble!

“Eeee how nishe! That’sh better out than in! Neh then! Weer did I put me bluddy teeth lasht neet?”

He finished his doings then inspected the contents of the toilet.

“Wot’sh me teeth doin’ in’t bog?”

He fished them out and put them on his little shelf. He remembered to flush the toilet then went over to the wash basin, ran some hot water into it then reached for his Erasmus and shaving brush.

That was when he saw himself in the mirror.

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

“Aaaargh! Wot’sh happened? Me fache’s turned inshide out! Bel, Bel, help me Bel!”[/I][/B]

He calmed himself down then looked more closely in the mirror.

“How come me fache ish black? I’ve getten white lipsh an’ a white conk. Wot’sh happened to me in’t neet? I favver one o’ them black and white minshtrelsh!”

Then he got down on one knee and started singing, his toothless smile spreading across his face.

[CENTER]
Mammy, oh mammy
The shun shinesh easht
The shun shinesh wesht
I know where, the shun shine’sh besht[/CENTER]

He took the corner of his towel and dampened it under the running water, then rubbed a little circle on his chin.

It came off!

“Aw! Look at wor’er’sh done at me now. Her’sh waxed me bluddy fache wi’ boot polish an’ painted me bluddy lipsh and nose wi’ that white paint! Ickle tek me good cookin’ time’t ger’all thish off, not to mention an overdoshe o’ watter!”

It was a good job he’d got up early as it took him the best part of half an hour to clean all the blacking off but it left his face all shiny and buffed up. When he’d done, his towel was blacker than a fire bottom.

“Neh then, brekkie time. Oopsh, I cawn’t have a good hanch bowt teeth!”

Forgetting he’d just retrieved them from the toilet, he shoved them in his mouth without so much as rinsing them, had a big grin at himself in the mirror then went to cook his breakfast!

[CENTER]-oo0oo-[/CENTER]

A few hours later Crusty started to feel some discomfort around his rear end and was having trouble sitting down so he decided to go and see Doctor Fry that very day, straight after work to find out what was wrong. When he walked into the surgery everybody fled in terror. There were old ladies on Zimmer frames, young lads on crutches, an old man coughing his guts up, babies crying and pregnant mums, but when they saw who’d walked in they all took off like somebody had shouted “fire”, hobbling out at sixty miles an hour.

The receptionist called over to him.

“Right Mister Nibbleswick. It looks like you’re next then!”

“Oh, I thowt I’d have’t wait a bit. Wot good service!”

Crusty hobbled into the doctor’s office, once again doing a remarkable impression of Gabby Heyes. The doctor had placed a mask over his nose and was just pulling up a pair of protective gloves when Crusty entered.

“Neh then owd fettler. I’ve not seen thee in a while. Worisit this time? Arse, feet or crusticles?”

“It’s me arse again doctor. There’s summat up wi’ it!”

“It would be yer arse again. Okay, wot’s up?”

“Well it hurts when I sit down.”