EVERYONE ELSE WAS LAUGHING

Posted on Dec 19, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

A writing prompt from Grammar About..

http://grammar.about.com/od/topicsuggestions/a/50Prompts.htm

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

EVERYONE ELSE WAS LAUGHING

by John Yeo

The show was billed as a top-notch experience, not just a comedy, an amusing experience; one that would cheer everyone up. It struck Gino’s nerves to the core when the lights finally went down. He knew then that this embarrassment would never make him laugh. There he was with his trousers in his hand being chased out of a farmer’s field by a fierce bull with long sharp horns. His face was hidden, but his bottom was clearly on display as he desperately tried to outrun the fierce bull. He knew very well whose rear that was; he had a clear recollection of the course of events leading to this unfortunate incident.

Gino and Alex were out filming and photographing wild birds with the local photography club.

“Look Alex! That’s a rare Egret on the banks of the brook running through that field: Let’s climb over the gate and try to get some photographs.”

“Should we?” Alex cautiously asked. “Surely it’s private property. I’ll come with you to the gate but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

The rest of the group also declined to enter the field and waited with Alex watching and filming the Egret from a distance. Gino quietly crept up on the unsuspecting bird and secreted himself in some bushes on the bank and began filming. Suddenly Nature of a different variety intervened and he thought, ‘It’s a good job I’m under cover. That curry I had last night is having a devastating effect. I will squat here behind these bushes.’

There was heard a bellowing roar and the sound of galloping hooves as a huge 2000 lb bull arrived and charged towards him.Gino grabbed his trousers and ran hard for the gate where his friends from the group were waiting and filming his escape, curled up with hysterical laughter.

Now one week later the group were sharing their birdwatching experiences! ☮

HEY!

Posted on Dec 15, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

Image from the net

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Man’s First Word

http://bekindrewrite.com

HEY!

by John Yeo

There was silence in the outer hemispheres of the galaxy for millennia. The elder trolls were unique in the areas of communication throughout the exo-galactic panoply of extraordinary people. Their way of communicating by nonverbal means had been raised to new heights.

On an extraordinary blue planet, life was formed and developed. Asteroids had collided and re-collided. Comets visited; bringing chemicals to permeate a life-giving mix of chemicals giving rise to unique life-forms. Exoplasm mingled and re-mingled again in the hands of the entity that was controlling the flow of matter.

The life forms mixed and remixed, soon a survivor in the likeness of the controller emerged. “Hey!” Thought the controller; “I am almost there!”

Then to his delight, he heard the word. “Hey!” Repeated back to him.

Shocked he silently strained his ultrasonic hearing to the limits.

Then the silence was broken by the familiar sound of his Mother’s voice resonating around the galaxy.

“God! put your toys away! It’s late!”

“Oh; Mother! Please; Can’t I just have another couple of eons?”

img_9739-1

http://bekindrewrite.com

THE INFERNAL EPISTLES according to the BARD

Posted on Dec 8, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Infernal Epistles

http://bekindrewrite.com

THE INFERNAL EPISTLES according to the BARD

by John Yeo

The Bard sat at his writing desk and began to write another play. This would be

the most fiendish, frightening, fantastic play he had ever put his name to.

Just as he had sharpened the nib on his favourite quill pen, there was an unruly din from the ground below. Someone was knocking vigorously on his door and shouting his name raucously. He recognised the familiar tones of his good friend and fellow playwright Kit. He opened the window quickly and shouted; “Hold fast Kit, I’ll come and join you!”

Leaping down the stairs two at a time the Bard opened the door gingerly, the busy muddy path was thronged with people going about their business. His good friend Kit stood way back from the rickety house grinning all over his face. “Greetings Bard, I come to tear you away from your dubious scribing. Let us retire to the nearest ale house and consume vast quantities of good sack.”

“An offer too good to refuse Kit, Let’s go!“

The two friends were soon in a popular local hostelry, quaffing flagons of sack together, toasting the success of the Bard’s last phenomenal production.

“What are you working on now Bard?” asked Kit

“The play is almost complete Kit, based on a number of scrolls that have come into my possession, this is the story of an evil scribe, the good lady Agatha. She will be ruthless, cold-hearted, cold-blooded with no morals whatsoever, harsh with her friends; her enemies would rapidly become terminated, one way or another.

Lady Agatha is a woman with ambition to dominate: Her power and her control over the life and death of victims will be absolute. Lady Agatha will be in a position to raise people up to the heights, then smash them back to earth. Without the slightest compunction whatsoever, Kit.” said the Bard excitedly.”

“Zounds! Where did these scrolls come from? How did you get hold of them?”

“The scrolls were recovered from a cellar beneath the infamous Bedlam asylum. They are so full of mysterious ritualistic killing and unhealthy feelings of murder and mayhem. They could become a blight on future generations, indeed they could become addictive and even popular. I obtained them on loan from a satanic priest who stole them from the archives. They are believed to be so dangerous that the Queen has ordered them to be burned. I have since learned that the thief has been hung drawn and quartered, and his head now resides on a pole above London Bridge.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Kit. “You must be in grave danger being in possession of these infernal epistles! You should be in hiding!”

At that precise moment, there was a commotion as a person whose face was obscured by his cloak lunged at the Bard with a knife. Kit turned and received a wound in the eye that killed him instantly. The Bard turned and made good his escape through the rear door of the hostelry before the constables arrived.

The Bard returned the epistles from whence they came.

History relates that the infernal epistles survived into the early twentieth century where they were updated and published by another famous Agatha, who became a well-known scribe. Controversy still rages over the content of the infernal epistles.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

img_9739-1

http://bekindrewrite.com

FISHY DISH

Posted on Dec 6, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

A prompt response to ~ http://thinkwritten.com/category/creative-writing-prompts/

No. 338. Word of the Day: Go to a website that has a word of the day and use it in a poem, story or journal entry you write.

http://daily.wordreference.com/
Basic+ Word of the Day: dish

Image courtesy of Ermilia’s blog on WordPress

FISHY DISH

by John Yeo

The auctioneer’s assistant was gingerly holding up an unusual dish. The dish was lavishly decorated with images of fruit and flowers. Billy the assistant was holding his breath, this was reputed to be an extraordinary piece of work. The illustrations were hand painted and the markings on the base indicated that this piece originated in Russia. The implication was that this dish had been stolen and secretly smuggled into Britain, rumour had it that this incredibly historical dish had once belonged to a girlfriend of Ivan the Terrible, the Tzar of all the Russia’s in the sixteenth century, who had presented a full dinner service to his girlfriend as a gift to win her hand. This exquisite piece of china was a part of that set, the remainder of which was now housed in the famous Hermitage museum in St Petersburg. Billy could feel his hand trembling slightly as this information was passed to the assembled buyers in the auction room.

Right at that moment a man dressed strangely in a Russian Cossack outfit leapt at Billy waving a sword, shouting in broken English:
“This is a bloodstained dish tainted with the blood of creatures consumed by creatures. Bloodstains that will never wash away!”
Billy in a shocked defensive reaction, threw the dish at the approaching swordsman. The dish broke into a million pieces.
The Auctioneer, shocked; dropped his gavel, picked up a gun and shot the menacing intruder dead.
History was made and lay in fragments on the floor.

A PANOPLY OF FOOLS

Posted on Dec 3, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

PanoplyDaily Prompt on WordPress 3rd December 2016 ~ PANOPLY

Titania and Bottom in a scence from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by Edwin Landseer. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons –

A PANOPLY OF FOOLS

by John Yeo

It was a rather special afternoon all the members were holding their breath in anticipation. Today was casting day for the local drama society, rumour had it that some extraordinary special guests would be attending the auditions.
The play we would be performing was to be William Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.
I had reluctantly joined the West Chester drama society at the behest of my dear wife Penelope, who is a regular performer. This was to be a first, I have never acted in my life before and I was feeling incredibly nervous about the prospect. I gingerly made myself known to the other members of the group as we entered a local pub, “The Leering Donkey.”

“Hello everyone, I’m Peter, nice to meet you all.” There were several nods and smiles of welcome and approval from the assembled members of the drama group.

I was a bit unnerved, when a tall young man came bustling up and said;
“Hi and welcome I’m Lawrence. Wow! You will be perfect for the role of Nick. Penelope darling! Well done; your husband will be perfect for the role I have in mind.”

“Nick?” I asked, “I don’t remember a character by the name of Nick in Midsummer Nights Dream. I read the play last night at home!”

Lawrence smiled and said, “Don’t worry Peter, the character you have been selected to play has an important role to play! I think you will be perfect for the role of Nick Bottom. A very sought after role indeed!”

“BOTTOM!” I exclaimed: “You mean the character with an Asses head, the bloody fool?”

“Peter this is not just any old fool you will be playing here! Bottom is a very important fool. Out of all the panoply of Shakespeare’s fools Bottom is the finest. I think this role could be the start of a well-revered career: Bottom was one of the leading performers in the Mechanicals. I think you will be perfect for this part. Am I not right Penelope darling?”

“Are you mad? I refuse to get involved with this! Anyway! Who do you think you are calling darling? That’s my wife you are addressing.” I said, becoming quite annoyed by the sly inferences of this toffee-nosed idiot.

“Just a theatrical term lovey. It’s a great pity; Won’t you change your mind? I think you would be perfect for the role; I’m sure you would look exactly right playing the character with an asses head.”

“Bugger off!” I said walking out of the pub.

One month later Lawrence and my wife Penelope had set up home together. I swear if I ever wake up from this horrible dream, I will get my revenge.

SOUL SURGERY

Posted on Dec 2, 2016 by John Yeo | 3 Comments

Image from pixabay.com

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Soul Surgeon

http://bekindrewrite.com

SOUL SURGERY

by John Yeo

Jim Greaves was a hard- bitten, been-around retired medical doctor. Jim had reached the age of honorable discharge from the health service and joined the ranks of silver-haired senior citizens.

Retirement didn’t come that easy to Jim, he was no gardener, and the easy life of pints in the pub at lunchtime, with the doubtful, soul-destroying, excitement of daytime television, was beginning to bore him stiff.

When Jim took up golf, on the advice of his GP; Mary his beloved wife of thirty years almost fainted away with relief at the news. Jim had become a bit of a nuisance, hanging around the house all day long and getting under her feet.

“Why don’t you come and join the golf club, Mary?” Jim asked excitedly:

Mary went white at this request, but she quickly recovered to coolly reply, “No thanks, Jim, I will try to catch up with the garden on the days you play golf.”

Peter Danvers, another retired medic and Jim became golfing partners and firm friends. Both men were having difficulty settling into retirement, and when an unusual opportunity came up for some part-time health officers at London airport, both men jumped at the chance.

Life at the airport was full of varied experiences and close contact with people from many parts of the world.

One memorable day, several members of the border patrol force were summoned to a remote part of the airfield to interview and process three strangely dressed individuals. They were bussed to the spot to find a small alien-looking craft surrounded by armed forces.

The first individual, to be interviewed spoke perfect English, with a slight old-style, Anglo-Saxon accent, introduced himself as the leader of the party.

“I am Merlin, we come in peace, from the recently resurfaced island of Atlantis. We are physicians of the inner regions, making good the damage done by polluted thinking and feeling. We come to offer surgery to save the souls of sentient beings.”

“Can I see your papers?” Asked the Chief Security Officer.

At that precise moment, Jim Greaves and Peter Danvers collapsed unconscious on the tarmac. There was a panic as medics were called forward and began desperately trying to revive the two men.

There was a sudden silent liftoff as the three visitors re-boarded their craft in the general melee.

It proved impossible to bring the two men round to normality and they became soulless zombies, confined to a hospital.

Until the day, exactly one year later they came round and related a tale of souls that could travel without the need of a body. The first recorded communication by Jim, was as follows.

“ Bodies age and decay! Life is forever!”

(“If you provide me some wonderfully bizarre prompts Stephanie, the chances are you will read a bizarre response occasionally.”)

inmonsterbadge1

http://bekindrewrite.com

TURNIP AND CHIPS

Posted on Nov 25, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Vegetable Oppression

http://bekindrewrite.com

TURNIP AND CHIPS

by John Yeo

“I tell you it’s the Turnips fault; ever since he was voted in with a narrow majority, we have been forced to be openly aggressive to anything and everything. I always used to think it was the Sprouts and Runner Beans that were full of wind. This Turnip fellow has majestic plans to sort out the rest of the allotment and stick strictly to home-grown vegetables in future. No more imports of any description will be allowed in.” The Pumpkin puffed out, as he openly flicked a large slug from attempting to gnaw into him, with a large frond attached to one of his leaves.

A group of Iceberg Lettuces standing in a neat row nodded in agreement in the strong wind, their spokesman addressed the assembly; “Don’t blame us! We voted for the Onion; a good choice: Not exactly a Spring Onion, you understand, but a super experienced Onion. An Onion that knows its Radishes from Beetroot.”

The Pumpkin continued; “The Turnip has promised some incredibly wealthy nutrients, riches beyond our wildest dreams. The powerful fertility from the rear end of some home-grown equines. An economic miracle is on the way.”

“Surely there is no way our economy can function without the cheapness and convenience of the new varieties of F1 interbreeding and Scientifically modified imports.” emphatically stated a venerable Pak Choi.

“No way? Our esteemed Turnip is decidedly against all mass-produced cheap imports and proposes we will function quite successfully with our own homegrown vegetables. The new leader didn’t hesitate to propose a solid wall be erected right around the allotments, preventing entrance by all alien varieties of vegetables.” the Pumpkin went on.

An army of potatoes, smartly dressed in heaped up piles of rich khaki fertiliser stood to attention, awaiting orders from their commanding officers. Always at the ready to be roasted, fried or mashed for the good of the allotment appetites.

Meanwhile grumbles of discontent at the new order were heard among the Carrots and Swedes and several other varieties of vegetables. Particularly certain sections of the Jerusalem Artichokes and Asparagus.

There were also rumbles of discontent among certain self-seeded wild flowers whose seeds had drifted onto the allotments from neighbouring areas. Dissatisfaction was noted with certain inferences and some mysterious patterns of thought as to their place in the future plans of the allotment growth.

Threats of anarchy and revolution were brushed off by the Turnip administration. Peace would certainly require a re-count and possibly a re-seeding of the whole administration to promote new growth and eliminate oppression.

The whole assembly agreed that the well tended allotment site would continue to function successfully regardless of the vegetable at the head of the assembly during the future growing seasons.

FICTION NOTICE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

img_9739-1

http://bekindrewrite.com

COMFORTABLY NUMB

Posted on Nov 17, 2016 by John Yeo | 6 Comments

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Comfortably Numb

http://bekindrewrite.com

COMFORTABLY NUMB

by John Yeo

Henpecked Humphrey is worn down by the demands and blatant unpleasantness brought on by the vulnerability of his wife, Angelique; an invalid who is perhaps not as invalid as he believes. Demanding and cruelly calculating she knows he will never find the courage to leave her. Humphrey, her husband, is a meek, mild-mannered man who always looks on the positive side of any situation and is infrequently rewarded with small favours from this overbearing manipulating monster.

One sunny day Humphrey and Angelique are out walking

“Come along Humphrey! We are falling behind: My legs, even with my stick and my other walking aides will never stand the strain of these hills. You are an impossible man to get along with I will never forget the day after we got married when I had that terrible fall that did irreparable damage to my spine. Are you listening to me or am I talking to myself.”

“Yes Angelique!

“Humphrey! Push harder, we will never keep up if you are going to be lazy. Push the wheelchair harder. Look out there’s a car coming, it may career onto the pavement and kill us both. Look out man!”

“Yes Angelique!”

Just at that moment Bob and Phylis came by, they had just become friendly with Humphrey and Angelique.

“Hello folks!” said Phylis, “How are you both?”

Angelique immediately answered the question. “We’re fine thanks, Humphrey is being a bit difficult at the moment; aren’t you Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then smiled and said; “How are things with you Humphrey?”

“Oh! You’re fine aren’t you Humpy? We are out for a walk taking the air.”

“Yes Angelique!”

Phylis then interjected and said, “Angelique; why don’t us girls have a nice cup of tea in this cafe? I’m sure Humphrey won’t mind, and we can let the boys loose to have a pint in that pub across the road.”

“I’m not sure about that! I need Humphrey here to take care of me at all times, don’t I Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

“I’ll look after you while we sit and enjoy a nice cup of tea and a chat Angelique!” said Phylis.

“I’m not sure about that, you like to be with me all the time don’t you Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then said, “It’s OK both, we would hate to come between two lovers who are devoted to each other as you two obviously are. How long have you two lovebirds been married?”

Angelique then immediately responded, “Thirty eight years, we met each other at university didn’t we Humpy?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then said with a smile, “That must have been a red letter day in your life Humphrey! Certainly a day to remember.”

“Yes it was,” Angelique answered swiftly, “We are very happy and life is comfortable. Aren’t we Humpy?”

“Yes Angelique!”

“Come on then! Humphrey push on or we will be late for our yoga and relaxation session. Goodbye you two; lovely talking to you; we always enjoy a chat. Don’t we Humpy?”

“Yes Angelique!”

“Come on then! My legs are getting stiffer by the second. Get a move on Humphrey! Push harder or we will be late.”

“Yes, My Angel”

Bob was stunned at this, as they watched the couple making their way up the hill to the village hall. Humphrey was almost bent double pushing the wheelchair up the hill.

“Phylis that bloke is so worn down he has got past uncomfortable and is numb with shock. Comfortable and numb.”

“Yes Bob, you’re absolutely right. Comfortably numb! I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

img_9739-1

TOUR-de-FARCE

Posted on Nov 12, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

Images Courtesy of pixabay.com

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Tour-de-Farce

http://bekindrewrite.com

TOUR-de-FARCE

by John Yeo

The caravans were parked in a circle on the village green, strategically encircling a large canvas structure, affectionately known to all as the big top. The circus had come to town! Overnight the village green was transformed, closed in, with a huge area roped off.

A siren shattered the calm of the village as a paramedic arrived, just in time to deliver a healthy bonny boy with a powerful pair of lungs.

Billy arrived, born in a caravan; his arrival coincided just as the evening performance was about to begin. His Mum and Dad were professional Clowns

Postnatal depression soon kicked in; Billy’s Mum was clearly affected by giving birth. Her husband was sympathetic, although he was suffering from a long-term depression himself.

The circus was always on tour, village to village, town to town, a different background to get used to all the time.

Dogs guarded the children while the family worked in the big top. Friends; all circus performers, Acrobats, Jugglers Tightrope Walkers and Dancers all took responsibility to care for the children.

The Ringmaster ruled the roost, travelling, always travelling; another week, another town as the circus toured the country.

Education on the move, Billy attended a different school in every town the circus visited. Mum and Dad taught him all they knew. How to be funny! How to apply makeup to please the customers.

Uncle Coco committed suicide by overdosing on antidepressants

Mum and Dad were more sorrowful than ever. They practiced a new water routine to keep the customers happy. The makeup told a different story as the painted smiles hide the truth. The matinee audience roared with laughter on the day of Uncle Coco’s funeral.

Billy found the funeral sad as the hearse delivered the coffin containing Uncle Coco’s remains that were quickly consigned to the flames. Uncle Coco’s ashes travelled through many small towns until the touring circus reached his home where his ashes were ceremoniously buried in the local cemetery.

Another week another small town, the circus tour was never ending. The big top always full, to bursting.

Billy began to grow up fast and sharp, he became a quick-witted, sensitive young man, following in his father’s footsteps.

A very gifted clown who knew how to make people happy with his funny routine.

Then one sad day in the life of Billy arrived with a tremendous shock, Rover his trusty Labrador dog who, went with him everywhere, died suddenly. Billy was devastated at this turn of events, crying uncontrollably. The time for the show arrived and Billy’s father was desperately trying to calm him. As he applied makeup to Billy’s face, the ringmaster arrived and insisted he take his place in the circus ring.

With these words his, Father sent him to the circus ring.

“Laugh Billy, Laugh! You are a clown to fool around and make people laugh. You will always work in the circus on a perpetual Tour-de-farce. No one will ever understand the tears of a clown.”

img_9739-1

First 50 Words~ An Eye

Posted on Jul 17, 2014 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

The Wink

Everyone ran for cover as the storm broke and Hurricane Fergus raged in the tropics. At the centre of the hurricane was an eye where everything was sucked up and deposited elsewhere. On a windy day in a town in Southern France it began to rain frogs from the sky. It was thought they were sucked up by the hurricane, Until the hurricane eye winked.

M	T	W	T	F	S	S
			1	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28	29	30	31

	John Yeo on Spring Flowers
	John Yeo on Just Because
	ladyleemanila on Just Because
	notestowomen on Spring Flowers
	John Yeo on HAPPINESS

EVERYONE ELSE WAS LAUGHING

Gino and Alex were out filming and photographing wild birds with the local photography club.

“Look Alex! That’s a rare Egret on the banks of the brook running through that field: Let’s climb over the gate and try to get some photographs.”

“Should we?” Alex cautiously asked. “Surely it’s private property. I’ll come with you to the gate but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

There was heard a bellowing roar and the sound of galloping hooves as a huge 2000 lb bull arrived and charged towards him.Gino grabbed his trousers and ran hard for the gate where his friends from the group were waiting and filming his escape, curled up with hysterical laughter.

Now one week later the group were sharing their birdwatching experiences! ☮

HEY!

There was silence in the outer hemispheres of the galaxy for millennia. The elder trolls were unique in the areas of communication throughout the exo-galactic panoply of extraordinary people. Their way of communicating by nonverbal means had been raised to new heights.

The life forms mixed and remixed, soon a survivor in the likeness of the controller emerged. “Hey!” Thought the controller; “I am almost there!”

Then to his delight, he heard the word. “Hey!” Repeated back to him.

Shocked he silently strained his ultrasonic hearing to the limits.

Then the silence was broken by the familiar sound of his Mother’s voice resonating around the galaxy.

“God! put your toys away! It’s late!”

“Oh; Mother! Please; Can’t I just have another couple of eons?”

THE INFERNAL EPISTLES according to the BARD

The Bard sat at his writing desk and began to write another play. This would be

the most fiendish, frightening, fantastic play he had ever put his name to.

“An offer too good to refuse Kit, Let’s go!“

The two friends were soon in a popular local hostelry, quaffing flagons of sack together, toasting the success of the Bard’s last phenomenal production.

“What are you working on now Bard?” asked Kit

“Zounds! Where did these scrolls come from? How did you get hold of them?”

“Wow!” exclaimed Kit. “You must be in grave danger being in possession of these infernal epistles! You should be in hiding!”

The Bard returned the epistles from whence they came.

History relates that the infernal epistles survived into the early twentieth century where they were updated and published by another famous Agatha, who became a well-known scribe. Controversy still rages over the content of the infernal epistles.

FISHY DISH

by John Yeo

A PANOPLY OF FOOLS

“Hello everyone, I’m Peter, nice to meet you all.” There were several nods and smiles of welcome and approval from the assembled members of the drama group.

I was a bit unnerved, when a tall young man came bustling up and said; “Hi and welcome I’m Lawrence. Wow! You will be perfect for the role of Nick. Penelope darling! Well done; your husband will be perfect for the role I have in mind.”

“Nick?” I asked, “I don’t remember a character by the name of Nick in Midsummer Nights Dream. I read the play last night at home!”

Lawrence smiled and said, “Don’t worry Peter, the character you have been selected to play has an important role to play! I think you will be perfect for the role of Nick Bottom. A very sought after role indeed!”

“BOTTOM!” I exclaimed: “You mean the character with an Asses head, the bloody fool?”

“Are you mad? I refuse to get involved with this! Anyway! Who do you think you are calling darling? That’s my wife you are addressing.” I said, becoming quite annoyed by the sly inferences of this toffee-nosed idiot.

“Just a theatrical term lovey. It’s a great pity; Won’t you change your mind? I think you would be perfect for the role; I’m sure you would look exactly right playing the character with an asses head.”

“Bugger off!” I said walking out of the pub.

One month later Lawrence and my wife Penelope had set up home together. I swear if I ever wake up from this horrible dream, I will get my revenge.

SOUL SURGERY

Jim Greaves was a hard- bitten, been-around retired medical doctor. Jim had reached the age of honorable discharge from the health service and joined the ranks of silver-haired senior citizens.

Retirement didn’t come that easy to Jim, he was no gardener, and the easy life of pints in the pub at lunchtime, with the doubtful, soul-destroying, excitement of daytime television, was beginning to bore him stiff.

When Jim took up golf, on the advice of his GP; Mary his beloved wife of thirty years almost fainted away with relief at the news. Jim had become a bit of a nuisance, hanging around the house all day long and getting under her feet.

“Why don’t you come and join the golf club, Mary?” Jim asked excitedly:

Mary went white at this request, but she quickly recovered to coolly reply, “No thanks, Jim, I will try to catch up with the garden on the days you play golf.”

Peter Danvers, another retired medic and Jim became golfing partners and firm friends. Both men were having difficulty settling into retirement, and when an unusual opportunity came up for some part-time health officers at London airport, both men jumped at the chance.

Life at the airport was full of varied experiences and close contact with people from many parts of the world.

One memorable day, several members of the border patrol force were summoned to a remote part of the airfield to interview and process three strangely dressed individuals. They were bussed to the spot to find a small alien-looking craft surrounded by armed forces.

The first individual, to be interviewed spoke perfect English, with a slight old-style, Anglo-Saxon accent, introduced himself as the leader of the party.

“I am Merlin, we come in peace, from the recently resurfaced island of Atlantis. We are physicians of the inner regions, making good the damage done by polluted thinking and feeling. We come to offer surgery to save the souls of sentient beings.”

“Can I see your papers?” Asked the Chief Security Officer.

At that precise moment, Jim Greaves and Peter Danvers collapsed unconscious on the tarmac. There was a panic as medics were called forward and began desperately trying to revive the two men.

There was a sudden silent liftoff as the three visitors re-boarded their craft in the general melee.

It proved impossible to bring the two men round to normality and they became soulless zombies, confined to a hospital.

Until the day, exactly one year later they came round and related a tale of souls that could travel without the need of a body. The first recorded communication by Jim, was as follows.

“ Bodies age and decay! Life is forever!”

TURNIP AND CHIPS

The Pumpkin continued; “The Turnip has promised some incredibly wealthy nutrients, riches beyond our wildest dreams. The powerful fertility from the rear end of some home-grown equines. An economic miracle is on the way.”

“Surely there is no way our economy can function without the cheapness and convenience of the new varieties of F1 interbreeding and Scientifically modified imports.” emphatically stated a venerable Pak Choi.

An army of potatoes, smartly dressed in heaped up piles of rich khaki fertiliser stood to attention, awaiting orders from their commanding officers. Always at the ready to be roasted, fried or mashed for the good of the allotment appetites.

Meanwhile grumbles of discontent at the new order were heard among the Carrots and Swedes and several other varieties of vegetables. Particularly certain sections of the Jerusalem Artichokes and Asparagus.

There were also rumbles of discontent among certain self-seeded wild flowers whose seeds had drifted onto the allotments from neighbouring areas. Dissatisfaction was noted with certain inferences and some mysterious patterns of thought as to their place in the future plans of the allotment growth.

Threats of anarchy and revolution were brushed off by the Turnip administration. Peace would certainly require a re-count and possibly a re-seeding of the whole administration to promote new growth and eliminate oppression.

The whole assembly agreed that the well tended allotment site would continue to function successfully regardless of the vegetable at the head of the assembly during the future growing seasons.

COMFORTABLY NUMB

One sunny day Humphrey and Angelique are out walking

“Yes Angelique!

“Humphrey! Push harder, we will never keep up if you are going to be lazy. Push the wheelchair harder. Look out there’s a car coming, it may career onto the pavement and kill us both. Look out man!”

“Yes Angelique!”

Just at that moment Bob and Phylis came by, they had just become friendly with Humphrey and Angelique.

“Hello folks!” said Phylis, “How are you both?”

Angelique immediately answered the question. “We’re fine thanks, Humphrey is being a bit difficult at the moment; aren’t you Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then smiled and said; “How are things with you Humphrey?”

“Oh! You’re fine aren’t you Humpy? We are out for a walk taking the air.”

“Yes Angelique!”

Phylis then interjected and said, “Angelique; why don’t us girls have a nice cup of tea in this cafe? I’m sure Humphrey won’t mind, and we can let the boys loose to have a pint in that pub across the road.”

“I’m not sure about that! I need Humphrey here to take care of me at all times, don’t I Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

“I’ll look after you while we sit and enjoy a nice cup of tea and a chat Angelique!” said Phylis.

“I’m not sure about that, you like to be with me all the time don’t you Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then said, “It’s OK both, we would hate to come between two lovers who are devoted to each other as you two obviously are. How long have you two lovebirds been married?”

I was a bit unnerved, when a tall young man came bustling up and said;
“Hi and welcome I’m Lawrence. Wow! You will be perfect for the role of Nick. Penelope darling! Well done; your husband will be perfect for the role I have in mind.”