That’s the best belly laugh I’ve had in ages Pug, I read it out to the missus and the tears rolled down her cheeks from laughing, thanks.
Excellent rendering of a very funny true tale, well done and I’m looking forward to more tales from the crypt.
Thanks,Jem-your praise is appreciated, mate. As stated, it really, genuinely is true. As is the story of the time I had to collect four bodies from Braintree.Off I toddled, in the unmarked van we used for such duties. HOWEVER…when I arrived, they had five bodies ready for immediate collection. Now,USUALLY,that’s no big deal-but I had the Vauxhall van, which had just four ‘soft’ cases for transportation of bodies, plus just enough space for ‘two up, two down’ in the back. Hmm…ok,I’m just nipping the 20 miles back to the parlour with them-so I [carefully,mindful of the reverence one must keep to the fore on such occasions] placed the fifth body-a youngish fellow who’d fallen off an electricity pylon-in the passenger seat, complete with seatbelt. Right-all in order, all paperwork sorted, all ‘passengers’ safe-off I set on the uneventful journey back…only to find a FEKKIN’ traffic census point had been set up on the only road leading to the parlour. It was patrolled by police on motorbikes,who guided the vehicles into a coned-off area at the side of the road in a long bus-stop. “Ohhhh,f’ferk’s sake!” thought meself,as I coasted into the area. A young lass came to the side window [which was down] and said to my ‘passenger’ “Good morning sir, would you mind answering a few questions regarding your use of this road?”
I leaned over a bit and said “He can’t hear you flower, can I help?” “Oh,is he ill?” she asked. “Sort of-he’s been dead for five days.” I replied. “DEAD???”…and yeeees,you guessed it…she disappeared below the window,plonk. Which,naturally,brought four of the officers legging it over to my van. Ok…YOU try explaining to several VERY agitated police officers why you’ve got a dead man in your passenger seat-ESPECIALLY as that dead man’s wearing a bobble hat and sunglasses!!! [I thought he’d attract less attention that way-boy,how wrong was I,ffs!] Ok,suddenly I’M in fkn handcuffs, the cops are going barmy, the lass with the clipboard is having hysterics, the traffic is at a total standstill…and THAT’S when the ferkin’ policeman in charge decides to open the back of the van JUST as two of the corpses let rip MIGHTY farts!!! [the change in air temperature, y’see]
Ohh,BOY-we ended up with 4 police cars, a dozen police bikes, me in handcuffs, an ambulance and paramedic team for the young lady, a MIGHTY traffic-jam from the rubberneckers, plus a multiple collision RIGHT beside my van as several bemused drivers lost their attention and collided…and a dead bloke in a bobble hat and sunglasses sitting on the fekkin’ pavement!!!
…and for those of you who disbelieve this story, the Essex Chronicle had front-page headlines AND full front-page coverage,so you can check it.
Bloody Norah-all I set out to do was collect four corpses & drive them quietly back to the parlour for preparation for viewing. Instead,I caused the county’s longest ever traffic-jam,plus a multiple collision, plus had a CORPSE arrested as the daft fkn coppers would NOT at first believe he wasn’t just drugged off his tits,PLUS caused a young lady to be taken to hospital for head injuries from hitting the pavement with her face,PLUS was charged [later dropped] with ‘obstructing the police in the course of their duty’ [because those two farts were MIGHTY,plus honked like horseshit soup, and the two coppers both puked wildly all over the two soft cases the corpses were in on the lower row]-I fkn TOLD the twats not to unzip those cases, but would they listen? Would they FU-anyway,finally Mike walked along the road to where we all were [Mike was the Funeral Director/Parlour Manager] and somehow got it sorted…I was uncuffed,told to ‘piss off’ by the boss copper…and had to ask for my dead passenger back,as he was still in his bobble hat and shades,sat on the pavement beside the cones where the coppers had placed him,ignoring us all-and the coppers had forgotten about him!!! Yep-it’s all true.
[Mike never let me forget that day. I recall him mentioning it, a time or two…]
a fart a day keeps the devil away - thought I’d keep it short for short people to read!!
ps:when they opened the passenger door why ddn’t the corpse fart??
pps Pug a delicate question!! - did you fart at any time during the event??
Not sure about that one Pug, Vauxhall Van? Surely that should have been a “Transit” Van!
I often thought I worked with a load of Zombies, now I know the truth, they were always Farting About.
‘’
nah he wanted to ‘vaux all’ surely not just ‘tran sit’ despite one sitting in the front ! yes ya either vaux them all or sit them all see what I mean.
there was an undertaker from York
who thought he could vauxalate all
but he soon came a miss when in transit they hissed
and the police had to breathalyze all!
There was a young guy from Fulham
Who purchased a Vauxhall Van
The Undertaker seller, who just for the craic
Threw a couple of Stiffs in the back.
undertaker - is he the guy who creeps under ya bed at night and waits for ya to expire and drop through to the underworld?
AKSHLY,you rotten sods, the ‘passenger’ was put in handcuffs too!
Those bloody policemen just could NOT accept the idea that a white, non-signwritten VAUXHALL [not ‘Transit’,y’planks] was being driven along a main road by a bloke singing along to a T-Rex CD as he chatted to a dead chap wearing white overalls, bobble hat and shades…and HE didn’t fart when the door was pulled open because he’d been in a cooler until just before I arrived to collect my FOUR bodies. The other four had been prepped ready for removals were already at ‘room temperature’-thus,the change from lying still on a stretcher, to being moved into soft carriers, then warmed in a van, then having sun-warmed air let into their zipped carriers when those prat coppers insisted on opening them, resulted in two MIGHTY farts as the air hit them…and by Jove,they really did honk. MEANWHILE,the ‘passenger’,whom they believed to be stoned,was placed on the verge IN HANDCUFFS,still wearing his woolly hat & shades-and yes it IS true, yes it CAN be checked via the Chronicle records…and yes,Mike really DID have to come walking along the road to sort it out! …and all because some utter DOUGHNUT decided on that day, at that moment, to put a fkn traffic census on the only available road to the funeral parlour. Plus,gummy-I still have my ‘funeral suit’ to this day,PLUS the rather natty silver pocket-watch & chain I used to wear when on funereal duties…so MUHHH! Now,if I were to tell you about the time our hearse,carrying the deceased in his coffin and decked with the usual flowery tributes, plus the cortege limos carrying the family/mourners,got stopped for speeding because we were late, due to a cock-up with the paperwork and got ‘clocked’ doing 95mph along the A12 toward the crem,you lot will no doubt expostulate in disbelief…but it’s true.
Life can be quite amazing, at times, y’know…and often amusing…
tell uzz anvver tell uzz anuvver please Mr uddertaker man! - weez like the udderworld dont we chappies oh rather Mr Pug
there once was a dear 'taker man
who drove a variety of van
to transport the dead was his true medicete
but his optician said “he can’t read a can”
when they said dear Pug drive sedate
he puzzled why he had to wait
at stop signs and such
so he just made a rush
and ended up spending police waits
he says “i’m a rational man
just put me foot down when I can
I feel above law when I carry for Lord
otherwise a responsible man???”
Hiya Guys,thanks for cheering Me up on this cold wet Glasgow morn’…LOL at Pugs tales from the crypt.…classic…I think He must have been a writer for ‘only fools and horses’…keep 'em coming please.
The van WASN’T a ‘variety’,you prat
-I thought I’d established that;
but as you know much better,
when the next femme dies
YOU go get her
…and don’t forget to wear a top hat!
Nice little verse there Gummy.
Yes May that Pug fella certainly knows how to tell ‘em.
Funeral directing is not my cup of tea, haven’t got the stomach for it, I think you’d have to have a dedication to work at it long term, a vocation like the priesthood or the matron in a large hospital. I remember the first “dead man” I had to look at, it was my granddad, daddy’s dad and he was a cranky old git when he was alive, no time for kids at all so I never really knew him. I was about 7 at the time and the brother and me tried everything to avoid having to go into the hospital morgue, but it was all in vain, in we had to go. When we were asked to kiss his cold purple and white cheek it was a bridge too far, it was “Not on your nelly Daddy, we’ll wait outside for you” knowing full well we wouldn’t get a clatter with all the relatives there, but we got it when we got home.
I didn’t like the way the kids were forced to look at the dead back then, thank God all that is gone now and they have the choice.
Here’s a few things new employees in the funeral trade fear, I believe they use glue a lot to stop the mouth and eyes opening during the “Viewing”:shock:
The recurring fears of employees include:
- that the body moves.
- that the body “breaks.”
- getting the wrong body.
- getting stuck to the body when they use glue.
- positioning the body wrong and having it fall down in.
I have to ask you Pug, what do they mean by “When the body breaks?” Is that followed “The body will fall and down will come nanny, coffin and all"
No,mate-it usually refers to breaking wind…which everyone usually presumes means farting. BUT,depending on temperature,time after post-rigour,bodily stresses,artificial components in the body [such as joints,pins,plates,so forth] phlobotometric degeneration rate,air retention values, blah,blah—[don’t wish to bore you] a body may do many things in it’s post-rigour condition, such as breath out,snort,whistle-even sit up…and on occasion, even appear to speak. [it’s not-that’s caused by the epiglottis contracting as retained stale air is being expelled] BUT -to those student nurses, many of those perfectly natural events were reasons to suddenly faint in shock,or scream and burst into tears, etc. Fear not, chaps & chappettes…we’re all made of stardust-and to stardust we shall return.
This virtual Treading the Boards is Ok, isn’t it?
What if the gas comes out yer Ears?
One needs to be prepared for the uninevitable, does one not?
isn’t that when they’ve heard too much of the feckin bleating coming from the mourners etc etc etc - or the preacher or the wailers and old uncle tom cobbly and all.
there once was a stiff in a crypt
who could fart just at will with a fit
If you touched him he moaned
and sometimes would groan
but his best trick of all was he called!!! [martha! martha! martha!]