Well, bless my soul vicar! No sooner has Mrs O'Flaherty applied a fresh coat of creosote to Mr Chives than the sudden, squalling April showers freeze and drench the wheezing ancient, driving him, reluctant and grumbling to his sickbed, an industrial strength mustard poultice and Wright's coal tar inhaler. To further add fiddlesticks to her fuss and bother, Mr Shillaker and Mr Scott, fresh from their recent performance at the Red Lion in Manningtree (where, it should be noted, a substantial amount of cake was distributed despite manifest indignities) are getting well and truly under her bunion'd feet with their constant cacophony, contraptions, contrivances and incorporeal caper. As the rain lances the moss stricken lawn with vicious stair rods and soaks the moles in their dank, root lined tunnels, her patience, ever sinew taut..snaps. With one huge, Irish bound Mrs O'Flaherty vaults the oaken stairs and rumbles, invincible, down the landing following the shrieks and groans of tortured souls to where those irksome Grymoire boys are ensconced in their occult laboratory fiddling about with dark forces and giggling. "You daft beggars get yeselves to the telephone now and find ye some feckin' work!" she bellows; her good eye a baleful gimlet. Terrified, the two friends scamper to the huge Bakelite monster in the vestibule and with Mrs O'Flaherty looming over them like a storm cloud in support stockings they call that nice Mr Cooper at The Bull in Crouch St, Colchester who agrees to employ them for the evening of Tuesday 27/04/10 to provide their trademark brand of music, light refreshments and necromancy for the benefit of the nice ladies and gentlemen therein. Jiggery-pokery commences at 9pm - Admittance Free
No comments:
Post a Comment