“Alreet owd lad, tek yer kecks off and lie on’t couch, bally down an’ I’ll have a look! Now promise me that ya’ll not fart in me face!”
“I’ll do me best doctor!”
The poor doctor leaned over to examine Crusty’s pimply bum and he poked and prodded and Crusty’s eyes watered up with the pain.
“Ouch, it bluddy hurts that!”
“Aye, it will do. Tha’s getten haemarrhoids!”
“I’ve getten wot?”
“Piles lad! I’ll give ya a prescription for some cream’t rub in and make it better.”
“Ta doc.”
The doctor gave Crusty his prescription which he proudly submitted to the chemist across the road. Because it was Crusty again, the chemist read it then nudged his colleagues to come and read it. They all fell about laughing but said nothing.
There was always something wrong with Crusty’s backside.
He took the cream home with him and as he turned the corner he saw Bel’s Jag parked at the front of his house, so he did a fast-shoe lollop to be by her side.
“Hiya Bel. Worra you doing here? Why are ya nor’at work?”
“Because I’ve gor’a bone’t pick wi’ you, that’s why!”
A big smile covered his face.
“Beltin’! Worisit? A ham bone, lamb bone, chops …?”
“None o’ them! It’s a Crusty bone!”
“Never heerd of it!”
“Shaddap and let me in that house.”
He let them in and she shoved him into his kitchen and bounced him down in a chair.
“Ouch!”
“Now lissen to me you. Do you have any idea how hard I worked on yer bluddy bedroom yesterday? Ya’ve asked why I’m nor’at work. It’s 'cos I were too bluddy knackered to go in today 'cos I were painting till one o’clock this morning!”
“Ta Bel!”
“Ne’ mind, ta Bel. Ya should be saying sorry Bel!”
“Sorry Bel but ya’ve done a beltin’ job. Why did ya paint me face wi’ boot blacking though?”
“As a punishment, wor’else?”
“Oh reet.”
“Neh then, go and put that kettle on and make me a cup o’ tay. I’ve still getten’t taste o’ that paint in me gob from last neet an’am bluddy parched!”
“Righty ho Bel!”
As he got up she grinned and gave him a swift kick up the arse.
"Ow, ow, ow! Don’t kick me up th’arse, please Bel!"
“Worra ya whingein’ at now? Yer used to being kicked up th’arse!”
“I know burrave getten piles of asteroids Bel!”
“Ya wot?”
“I’ve getten piles Bel!”
“Piles o’ wot? Worra ya on about at all?”
“I went to see Doctor Fry earlier ‘cos me arse keeps hurting me an’ he had a look and towd me I’ve getten piles of asteroids Bel, and you go and kick me reet up th’arse!”
Her eyes watered up again and she started snorting with laughter.
“Sorry owd lad. I didn’t know ya’d getten asteroids! Wot planet are they from then? Wot planet are you from come’t think of it?”
“It’s not funny Bel.”
“Yes it is. I think it’s time you had an arse replacement. Th’owd ‘un must be worn out by now wi’ all’t sitting and sh!tting and farting ya do, not to mention setting it alight every new moon.”
Sulk!
“I don’t know how yer mother pur’up wi’ you Crusty. The poor bluddy woman must’ve had no peace wi’ ya. Ya must’nt’ve bin her pride and joy must ya!”
Sulk!
He went into his living room, still sulking, and eased himself down into his armchair.
“That’s a bit better.”
He started to take off his shoes and the tiger rug quivered just a little in anticipation of Crusty’s feet.
“Am sorry Bel, burrall have’t tek me shoes off. Me feet are killing me as I’ve done a lorra running about at work today burra bet that floor’s’t shiniest in Pem.”
Off came Skanky and Skunky and he slung them in a corner of the room for a quick fester.
Seeeeeep!
“Cor, wor’a bluddy pong again. When did ya last wash Sniffy and Whiffy? They stink bluddy horrible again as well!”
“Neh let me have a think Bel. It must’ve bin about nine or ten week ago after ya’d found me in yer attic. When I’d gor’home I pur’everything in’t washer then!”
“Well ger’em scraped off yer feet and shove 'em in again. Get yer hammer and chisel and ger’all’t crud chipped off’t bottoms of yer feet. Ya’ve gor’a fair owd crust on’t soles. I’ll have to go as I can’t stand the smell of 'em!”
She got up.
“Am sorry about me feet Bel. I’ve tried everything I can think of to stop 'em from stinking!”
“No ya’ve not! Ya’ve not tried amputation yet!”
“Amputation Bel? How will I walk if I’ve no feet?”
“Bluddy funny! Ya could pogo along though or, I’ll tell ya wot we could do. Once yer feet’ve bin cut off we could stick the raggy ends in two plant pots and stand ya in yer garden as a scarecrow and ya could use yer owd feet as a pair o’ book ends. How’s that?”
“Am not so keen on that idea Bel. It’s not one of yer better ones.”
“Oh! Alright then. Any road up, I’ll have’t get goin’. This lot round here’ll have’t bluddy wheels off me Jag quicker than a Formula One pit crew if I don’t keep an eye out!”
“Canna come round to yer house later Bel? Am thinkin’ o’ cooking some lickle pies. I’ve heard o’ some new types of pie thar’a thowt I’d like’t have a do at cooking!”
“You cook 'em for yerself owd lad then if ya don’t poison yerself ya can fetch me one’t try. How’s that?”
“Reet Bel. I’ll get started straight away then. See ya later!”
“See ya later lad but just in case they taste like sh!t I’ll have summat proper standing by!”
“Okay!”
Thrilled that she was at least willing to try yet more of his cooking after what she’d said last time he scuttled off into the kitchen and got all his ingredients together.
“Oops, nearly forgot to wash me hands!”
He scrubbed them under the tap until they were pink and clean then made his pastry and rolled it out nicely. Then he got his filling, which he’d made earlier, and made them into pasties instead of pies. Onto his greased tray he put them then slid them into the pre-heated oven and waited for them to turn golden brown, checking on them every two minutes to make sure they didn’t burn.
When he could smell them cooking he put on some oven gloves and once again opened his oven door and took out the beautifully cooked pasties. Crusty’s tongue dangled out as he eyed them greedily. He couldn’t wait for them to cool down quickly enough as he wanted to get hanching immediately to see what they tasted like.
He got a clean dish cloth and started wafting them as fast as he could. Then, as the weather had turned considerably cooler, he picked the tray up again and took them outside to cool down. It wasn’t working quickly enough so he got his table top fan and switched it on directing it at the pasties.
“Hurry up! Go cool!”
After another half an hour had elapsed they were finally cool enough for him to pick one up and he took a huge bite out of it.
“Hmmm?”
He tried another bite.
“Wor’an unusual taste, but they taste okay to me!”
He finished it, still slightly unsure as to how Bel would react, but decided that there was only one way to find out. He’d made seven and eaten one so he packed the remaining six in foil and then into a little shoe box he kept handy, put it into a carrier bag, jumped into his Noddy car and took off for Bel’s house.
He finally managed to find his way there and on arrival he took the carrier bag off the back seat and advanced on Bel’s front door.
Thump, thump, thump, rrrrrring!
“I’m coming Crusty. Just wait a second as’am on’t phone!”
Thump, thump, thump, rrrrring!
