Lets give this a try - we'll make a virtual soap. I'll start things off, and you can feel free to add to the storyline etc. Its just a bit of fun, but try and take it seriously aswell. The soap is to be fun and bizarre things can happen, but it must also be approachable, so not too many UFO'S and the like.
So, lets go.
The story is set in the fictional area of Strawberry Hill Village. There is a church, a post office, as well as an empty shop next door to the post office. The nearest town is a 20 minute drive.
The residents:
The Cromwells at number one: Judith and her sister Edith are fanatic christians, and are always at the church, reading the bible, organising days out for the children and picnics. Edith works part time at the post office. However, they harbour a secret. They aren't really sisters. Judith and Edith are lesbians.
The Broons at number two: Theres gran broon, who is as fiesty at 70 as she was at 20. Never short of a funny one liner, and always getting into trouble and giving granpa broon a headache. She sees Edith and Judith as fuddy duddys. Their daughter Amanda lives with them, she is 34 and her husband, the local baker is 38. Richard, the baker, has a high cholestral problem. Richard has a daughter from a previous marriage, Collette is 19 and very blonde and beautiful.
The Warriors at number three: Is actually a student house. Its owned by one of the lads fathers who has just gone travelling, and the 3 boys who are 18, 25, and 31 live there for the cheap rent, getting the early bus to university.
Number four is currently for sale
The Ashmonds at number five: Live in a large property, with cobwebs and creaky floor boards. but thats how they like it, This weird family are similar to the Addams family, but not as far fetched.
there is a farm with 4 people living on it
and finally, The Harpers at number six: Business man Jack Harper comes here at the weekends with his mistress. Little do the other residents know, Jack is very rich and drawing up plans to take over Strawberry Hill Village to turn it into a health farm retreat and stables.
Could be worse, I guess. Your username is duly noted. *cackles evilly*
Lycra clad Barry Fondle had spent the day tootling around the countryside astride his trusty ten speed pink and lilac chopper. In his large lace-lined basket he gathered produce from the Veg-iner's ethical vegetable suppliers.
Piddling-On-The-Marsh had been hard work, it was all up-hill. He never enjoyed Bitten Winkle or Slapton Bottom much either.
All through the day, as he laboured along the lanes, he wondered why the villagers had started referring to him as Fairy Bundle. He batted his false eyelashes in irritation.
His old Welsh grandmother would have no truck with silly names. At times like this he yearned to be back with his old granny in Pant-y-Flasher.
Barely Thimble was first to arrive at the Church for All Modern Day Sinners for Pilates. He was not the only irritated villager to arrive at the church, as Darren turned up, naffed off again at having been given the wrong car, with a sat-nav which had plans of it's own for DFTP. Amanda was the next to arrive, which pleased them both. DFTP thought she might be potential gf material and started to plan an AA style inspection. But while he was thinking about it, Barely Thimble got straight in there, chatting her up with his famously resistable lines. DFTP was sure he heard him say "I've got a pimple on my bum, would you like to see it?" to Amanda, who pretended not to hear. He then offered to impress her with his organic cucumbers. She was having none of it. She was nearly tempted by an offer of a free dinner at Veg-iner, but was turned off when she found out she'd have to bring her own corkscrew.
Some busybody's just been round the village knocking on doors and demanding copies of the Oracle.
The local busybody who wasn’t actually a busybody at all (in fact she was quite a loner), had nearly edited all the local Oracles. She had worked for the local Oracle for 2 years now and was always given the grotty jobs which had ironically given her the reputation of busybody. But the fact was; she was such a loner in the Hills that no one even knew her name. She had realised this about 12 months ago and had been wearing t-shirts with her name on the front with the phonics in brackets underneath ‘Kara (Kar-rar)’, but still people didn’t refer to her by name. She had even sent out Christmas cards last year with a personal inscription inside.
I wonder the village
As lonely as a cloud
Kara’s me name
Of that I’m proud
Make Kara a happy girl
Wish her a Merry Christmas
Love from Kara (Kar-rar)
She had even sent everyone a copy of the CD she had made in one of those ‘Make your own music CD for £4.99 (further copies £49.99 each)’ booths in the neigbouring village, famous for it’s pot-holing, ‘Wrong Hole’ , the CD was a version of ‘Sara by Bob Dylan’ but she adapted it. But all this had been to no avail.
Kara Rendre-L’ame had been under a therapist from the well established clinic ‘Be Postive or Else!’ in Wrong Hole's sister village ‘Dirty Holes’ for nearly a year now. Her counselor had an unusual method of curing emotional turmoil by invoking the help of a demon to possess the client in hopes that it would scare out any uninvited demons and take residence itself. The counselor was that effective he was always very busy and had many clients who relied on him and they all became repeat clients.
Dr. Kane Y’Asse, Kara's therapist, had advised her to be pro-active and seek out friends in the two ‘Holes’ villages, to start with. Kara wanted to be a part of the Mod Bods, the local scooter posse as they had a finger in every hole, it seemed. And since her appointment with Dr. Y’Asse she had gone to the city and bought herself a Mod outfit. She slipped into her ripped fishnet stockings, a mini tartan skirt with buckles on the side, sling-back stiletto shoes, a black t-shirt with chains on, spiked her hair and wore very elaborate black makeup. Kara didn’t really get the Punk Vs Mod thing but who was going to tell her the difference anyway?
Kara had decided that if her new outfit didn’t get her into the Mod Bods posse she was going say goodbye to the country life and go to the city and study Transylvanian Film from the 16th and 17th centuries (which didn’t actually require a lot of study apparently or much social interaction unfortunately, but the short syllabus appealed to her).
She checked herself in the mirror and walked through her front door………
She checked herself in the mirror and walked through her front door………
Then she remembered she should have opened it first.
"Was this the sort of thing that made people cross the road to avoid her?" Kara screamed to herself thoughtfully. She always referred to herself in the third person, as it made her feel less lonely.
Meanwhile Barry Fondler's aliases getting hard to keep track of. The villagers had not yet cottoned on to the fact that Baraffy Undle, Mr. Undlewood, Thimble and etc. etc. etc. were never seen together.
If he wasn't careful someone might start to notice, Barry thought. Perhaps it would help if he changed his clothes when pretending to be someone else? He pondered.
He prayed that the village would never discover his shameful secret.
His reverie was suddenly interrupted when something huge and unlikely came bursting through his patio doors....
His reverie was suddenly interrupted when something huge and unlikely came bursting through his patio doors....
It was only whatsername from down the road. Carla? Karma? Barry ignored her and carried on thinking about himself.
Barry Fondle was the local paranoid schizophrenic, all the villagers knew this but still pretended they didn’t know him when he presented with a new personality. The sad thing was; Barry was the only one who didn’t know that everyone else knew!
And in the true spirit of the Strawberry Hill’ers they enjoyed the fun they had with Barry and all his personalities and had voted at last months ‘Strawberry Hill Cinema Evening’ to continue allowing Barry to be as many people as he liked. The ‘Strawberry Hill Cinema Evening’ also doubled as a sort of unofficial community meeting and Barry’s personalities were always on the agenda under ‘Local Entertainment’.
On his return from fetching the newspapers Jack Harper opened his front door. “Davina, I’m back……DAVINA!” Jack called to his mistress. But Davina was not there, which was unusual and somewhat annoying to Jack, he was desperate for a good neck rub.
Davina was a very attractive young woman, she had been
C**ping-In-The-Marsh's arm-wrestling champion two years previous. You didn’t tend to see much of Davina in the Fens due to Jack wanting her to keep a low profile. Davina sneaked out on the afternoon of the championship and wowed the crowds with her ability to throw any man, woman or pig in seconds to the table.
This hadn’t gone down well with Henry Hulken the local muscle fanatic. He had been the reigning arm-wrestling, body building and weight-lifting champion for the last 12 years in C**pping-In-The-Marsh, bar 2005 when Davina had entered. Henry re-gained the arm-wrestling title in 2006 and was more than confident that he would keep it this year too, as long as that Davina didn’t enter.
But Davina’s arm-wrestling title was unimportant to her now; she had other worries and concerns. Davina had been receiving anonymous threatening letters, they were always hand posted and she had managed so far to keep it all hidden from Jack. The letters said that the poster knew of her dirty secret and they would tell Jack and everyone the secret if she didn’t leave the Fens. She had burnt every one of the letters in the fire-place as they had arrived.
But today the modus operandi of the poster had changed; today’s anonymous letter arrived with the morning post. It was written as follows:
IF YOU DON’T SADDLE UP N GET OUT OF TOWN SOON
THEN YOUR BLOKE WILL KNOW YOUR SECRET.
I’VE GOT A BIG MOUTH MIND (and a fine set of teeth too)
SO I WILL TELL EVERYONE (except Judith, cuz she will tell me off).
YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED, SO HURRY UP AND MAKE LIKE A HORSE
ERMM………AND A TREE AND LEAF….YEAH!
(And I am really getting fed up now cuz this cost me 34p cuz Lorenzo won’t deliver them for me anymore for nothin cuz he says he’s done enough already and if the new postmaster catches him he will get into trouble but I said to him that it was alright cuz I would slip it into the normal post bag so I am really bucking bronco mad now!!! And you don’t want to see me when I lose at bucking bronco!!!)
Lots of Love E’
Davina still, as it seemed, had luck on her side because Jack had left before Lorenzo had arrived with the post. Davina read the letter and noted the ‘My Little Pony’ paper that it was written on. Usually the notepaper had horseshoes on it, but Davina was still unable to fathom what relevance this had to the poster. Davina had decided to visit a gypsy in the village of ‘Sykik Borls’ which was about a 3 hours drive away, the Gypsy Doris Bluebox was new to Sykik Borls and Davina hoped she could help her find her foe with the mystical Two Ronnies Tarot.
Earlier that morning after she had burnt the letter, Davina looked in her bathroom mirror as she positioned her chicken fillets in her bra, she had already showered and shaved the necessary bits, and slipped into her panty girdle that kept it all hidden. She pulled up her panty-hoes, adjusted herself and put on her pink floral jump suite. She left by the back door….………
swoooooooshhhhhhh.
what was that??? screeched Edith and Judith, as their berets whizzed to the floor................bet its them pesky Ashdowne from no.5 again.
a fit of giggles could be heard from behind the gorse bushes, the gothy Brothers Bat and Fang Ashdowne were flexing their muscles on their new catapults.
"That'll teach em to stick their noses up at our Halloween outfits, it was uncle Pesters best hole diggin robe", said Bat.
"Yea, and for saying my teeth were goofy, my dad sharpened them specially on the best urn from the family plot" said Fang.
Their gorgeous redeyed PurpleWolfdog "fluffie", crouched ready to pounce, he had spotted a frog a leaping by, covered in sticky mushy ready picked lettuce from a supermarket..............was he trying to camouflage? wouldnt work as he licked his teeth eyes a glazing.................
Earlier that morning after she had burnt the letter, Davina looked in her bathroom mirror as she positioned her chicken fillets in her bra, she had already showered and shaved the necessary bits, and slipped into her panty girdle that kept it all hidden. She pulled up her panty-hoes, adjusted herself and put on her pink floral jump suite. She left by the back door….………
Davina was a martyr to her obsessive compulsive behaviour. Why, she wondered, did she have to shower and shave the chicken fillets? Why did she keep them in her bra which was hidden in her panty girdle? Perhaps that soap on the floor had been a blessing in disguise, because slipping into the panty girdle had been a change to her usual routine. Apart from the blackmail and threatening letters perhaps things were looking up.
Davina was a martyr to her obsessive compulsive behaviour. Why, she wondered, did she have to shower and shave the chicken fillets? Why did she keep them in her bra which was hidden in her panty girdle? Perhaps that soap on the floor had been a blessing in disguise, because slipping into the panty girdle had been a change to her usual routine. Apart from the blackmail and threatening letters perhaps things were looking up.
On reflection a couple of days later, Davina realised, when she re-read her diary entries, that grammar wasn't her best attribute. "Oh well," she thought, "it's the contents that counts, maybe I should go on that essay writing course that Barry Fumbler is running?" :p
On reflection a couple of days later, Davina realised, when she re-read her diary entries, that grammar wasn't her best attribute. "Oh well," she thought, "it's the contents that counts, maybe I should go on that essay writing course that Barry Fumbler is running?" :p
Little did Davina know that Barry Fumbler was, at that very moment, recalling her best attribute. This was her generously filled, and lumpy panty girdle.
"I hope she joins my essay writing course." He mumbled dreamily.
Inside the church, Father O'Neill was admiring his the alterations he had recently made to the interior. He had got the Polish workmen in from Little Krakow-in-the-Meadow, and they had done a brilliant job of converting the church so that the pews, pulpit, and organ folded back into cunningly disguised mirrored cupboards: the church then doubled as a Pilates studio. He had got the idea from Alan Franks, the vicar at St.Stephens in Ambridge, which was just down the Frotting from Strawberry Hills.
He opened the heavy oak doors and in came his clients. Amanda came in first, starting to show her pregnancy. But she was so beautiful this was a minor detail for Barely Fimble and DFTP, who both took mats next to hers.
"Hi, how do you like your eggs in the morning? Scrambled or fertilized?"
"Hi, my name's Right...Mr. Right."
"Hi, the voices in my head told me to come over and talk to you."
Amanda yawned and settled into the mat. She had a plan and it didn't involve these two.
Following hard on their heels was a large floppy eared, pig, who politely said hello to everyone and started to practice roll-downs against the wall.
Amanda sat up and watched the pig. Excellent. This would be her opportunity. All she had to do was take on what she’s learnt from her therapist, Kane Y’Asse, and subliminally hypnotise Father O’Neill into slaughtering the pig……….and then she would be able to feed the bacon and sausages to her husband, Richard the Baker, so that he would die of choked, lardy, arteries………and leave her to bring up Gok’s love-child (but really she was inseminated by a wicked, devil, look-a-like Gok, not the sainted one!) with PC Lorenzo and Sergeant Serge………speaking of whom………in they walked.
Little did Davina know that Barry Fumbler was, at that very moment, recalling her best attribute. This was her generously filled, and lumpy panty girdle.
"I hope she joins my essay writing course." He mumbled dreamily.
You could suppose that old Barry Fumbler would be shocked to find that Davina was also packing her meat and two veg into her lumpy panty girdle along with the chicken fillets, but it was no secret that Barry quite liked that sort of thing, even though he proclaimed to be a vegetarian!
A black limousine pulled up to the offices of Agents of Realty and Supreme Estates. Snakey Sid watched as a tall, dark figure emerged. The man on the phone had insisted on meeting him after office hours, Sid couldn't refuse. Besides, he hadn't yet committed to any of the other prospective buyers for No: 4, and Mr. Sinfield seemed determined to meet with him. But now he was having second thoughts. Just what had he gotten himself into? Who was this Mr. Sinfield and why all the secrecy?
The tall dark figure knew that Sid would be impressed by the limousine. What Sid didn't know was that it was usually only hired out for weddings and birthdays.
Sid's slow Texan drawl and stetson hat marked him out from the other residents of the village, especially as he was Slapton Bottom born and bred.
Sid's admiration for all things American had been the reason why he had named his little estate agents 'Agents of Realty and Supreme Estates'. The locals always read it as 'Agents of Reality and Supreme States' and thought it was some sort of new age cult. This was one of the reasons why Sid had never sold a house.
This was also why Sid was unaware that the other 'prospective buyers' for No: 4 were actually nothing of the sort. They had wanted to experience supreme states and were disappointed when Sid tried to sell them a house. They had feigned interest before running away down the lanes in their open toed sandals never to return.
Sid's spurs jangled as he nervously approached the dark figure.
:rollaugh:
Papa Smudge Ashdowne was having a smoke in the lounge, his best smoking jacket puffed out great billows from the button holes, the sleeves and choked around his neck,,,,what a contented man he was, and felt all clean again.
mama Loonymoon Ashdown shook her finger:nono: at her little darlings Bat and Fang. "Edith and Judith have put in another official complaint about you two knocking off their berets.................how many times have we told you to aim for their crinkley bottoms...........no-one will know then"
Little baby RayKi-angel coo'ed in the crib.......delightful baby blond ringlets, the hugest blue eyes. she bore no family resemblance as the others all had jet black hair and carried widows peaks. It is said around the hills that she was the love child of Harry Bannedneck jr, a travelling salesman who mesmerised her mother as she gazed into his eyes, not round the eyes, under the eyes but into the eyes, then he clicked his fingers :hug:
Redeyed Purplewolf fluffie Ashdowne had taken himself off on the prowl..........a bit of frog was only a snack and he had designs on those pigs in farmer Giles field.........yes he had heard they were quite nimble with their Chi Kun Gok Wan moves but a wily wolf could soon huff and puff them over.................licking his teeth again..he would teach them a thing or two.
He padded through the woods and caught a glimpse of Silver Hoody Owl.....................wearing a straw hat with corks adangling mmmmmmmmm, not seen her for a bit.
and whos that yonder.............Oakey Dokey gave a wave to the fluffie and carried on stoking the bonfire, he had a moon to worship ya know
“Howdy Partner!” Sid greeted Mr Sinfield holding his hand out in welcome. Sid also had to adjust him self in his stance a couple of times before he could get the bow legged thing going on properly.
“Ah, yes. Good afternoon Mr Winkle” Mr Sinfield replied ignoring Sid’s offer to shake hands.
Sid was a little intimidated by Mr Sinfield’s aloofness. Especially when the three Heavies got out the Limousine and stood around him. Sid spat out all of his chewing tobacco on the floor and wiped his mouth with his sleeve (nerves), which was a good thing really as his spittoon was full to brimming in his office. “Come into my office Mr Sinfield,” he said.
Mr Sinfield had watched Sid spit on the floor and internally was revolted but externally he didn’t twitch a muscle. Mr Sinfield was a master at the ‘poker face’ and knew exactly how to play this one. He and his three Heavies followed Sid into the estate agents; one of the Heavies locked the door behind them. Mr Sinfield sat down at Sid’s desk and the Heavies positioned themselves around him.
“Mr Winkle, I have come here to request your services. I’m a reasonable man Mr Winkle, I appreciate you may need some time to think about your answer.” Mr Sinfield paused and locked eyes with Sid. Sid was transfixed, he wanted to turn away from Mr Sinfield but he couldn’t.
“I am a busy man Mr Winkle, I have many people to.... go see today.” Mr Sinfield sat back in his chair, rested his elbows on the armrests and clasped his hands together crossing his fingers but raising the first digits on each hand, like a church steeple. Sid sat in his chair with his mouth slightly ajar still mesmerized by Mr Sinfield's eyes.
Mr Sinfield slowly looked around the room sizing up his surroundings. As if in slow motion he sat upright and leaned forward.
“Are you listening Mr Winkle?” Mr Sinfield asked.
Sid nodded once.
“Mr Winkle, give me a top C!” Mr Sinfield demanded.
Sid opened his mouth and belted out a top C that any soprano would give their right arm to hit so perfectly. Sid maintained the note while still staring Mr Sinfield in the eyes. Sid’s mug of cold Americano coffee started to vibrate and move along the desk. Mr Sinfield picked up the mug and handed it to one of the Heavies. The front windows were now vibrating to the point of shattering, the whole of the Agents of Realty and Supreme Estates had become a ‘singing bowl’ and Sid was the mallet. The atmosphere in the estate agents started to prickle, if you looked through Sid you could see all the colour’s of the spectrum coming out from around him, but this would take some practice to see and was missed by the Heavies. Mr Sinfield sat back again and snarled the tiniest of snarls. He clicked his fingers and Sid stopped singing.
“Very good Mr Winkle. Now……..,” Mr Sinfield knew he had to pitch it just right at Sid, otherwise all would be lost.
Mr Sinfield aka Bishop Seamus Sinfield of The Holy Moly cathedral in the city then took out a tennis ball from his pocket and threw it at Sid. It clonked Sid right between the eyes and he collapsed to the floor, out cold. “YES,” shouted Bishop Sinfield and he made a fist and punched the air. “Quick ladies, roll him up in that carpet and put him into the Limo”.
The three clinically obese ladies did as they were told and bungled Sid into the Limo wrapped in the carpet.
The Bishop was not going to let Father O’Neill and his 'Modern Day Sinners' church choir (in which Sid had always been the lead vocalist) steal the Llangollen International Musical Eisteddfod church choral competition from him again, he'd just made sure of that!
That was great. :rollaugh:
To end the Carnival it had been the tradition for the last 50 years for Gran Broon to parade around the main ring on her white palomino mare, Ruth. This mare was the latest descendant of a long line of Ruths. Gran Broon always rode bare back and for this special occasion she always unwound her long, now very thin and grey locks around her shoulders. It was tradition to do the ride naked and although Gran always gave it her all; her best days were long gone. She knew it was time to hang up her toupee tape and so this was her last parade and she was going to make it memorable for all…………………...
Gran Broon sat with her feet up listening to Terry Wogan on the radio and thought back to the carnival and how she had amazed everyone. Gran had been secretly practicing with Ruth for months. She was determined to go out in style for her last parade and she wanted to go down in Strawberry Hill history, and she did.
In fact in the year 2207 the Historian Garry Fumbledon had been commissioned to find an event in the Fens that best represented the counties community spirit and after a lot of digging around in the archives he found some old video footage. The images were uploaded onto a holographic disc and stored on a projector in the Strawberry Hill Memorial Square. The holographic projector played a continuing loop of Gran Broon riding Ruth in the 2007 ‘End of Carnival Parade’.
It depicted the naked Gran Broon riding Ruth bareback in the main ring. It then showed Ruth starting to canter and Gran carefully standing up on Ruth’s back with her arms stretched out for balance (which was a feat all by itself and something quite miraculous to behold). But that wasn’t all; Gran then changed her position several times, some of the positions were quite extraordinary (she had learned them in Father O’Neill’s Pilates class for the over 60’s). Ruth continued to canter around the ring while Gran did her thing. As you can imagine some of the positions required adults to cover children’s eyes! Many an ice-cream scoop fell off it’s cornet to the floor on that day.
On the actual day of Gran’s riding triumph the crowd was left speechless, it took about 25 seconds once Gran had dismounted Ruth with the biggest grin on her face for someone to start clapping, all be it slowly. Eventually the rest of the crowd joined in and gave Gran a thunderous round of applause and cheers. Gran was given a blanket to cover her modesty, not that it really mattered, most in the crowd felt quite familiar with Gran by now.
Gran was very pleased with herself and new she had made an indelible mark on the Strawberry Hill Carnival.
Mama ashdowne clapped her hands with glee.
She had just received a Christmas card from her sister Satire, who lived in Pensilverania, America. She was coming over for the holidays with her darling children Frostbite, and Wombat, Uncle Pester would be so happy to have his family together....she couldnt wait to tell him.
"Now children , Bat and Fang, I think you should take this opportunity to make some nice decs to greet your cousins, for starters you can string this popcorn for the tree, and then go gather some fir cones for our table centre spread....."
She hadnt realised she was actually talking to herself again (usually the best conversations she had) because the children had disappeared.
There was a catawauling from around the "sisters" house.
Bat and Fang had decided to go Carol Singing and Judith was getting their best vocals
"
Jungle Bells..Batman Smells....Robin's flown away
Santa trumped, made Rudolph Jump
made fuel for the sleigh ..hayyyyyy
Jungle Bells..Batman Smells....Robin's flown away
When it snows we make it glow
By pe*ing out our names hay
"
ahhh, such adorable boys 😉
(For anyone new to this thread,you may like to start from post #1, and if anyone would like to complete this particular post please, please do...... No really, pleeeeaaasssseee do!)
Time had ticked along happily in the Fens. By far the biggest event that had recently passed in the Strawberry Hills was Barry Undle’s marriage to Fairy Bundle…..
Now all the villagers new that Barry was a schizophrenic and had many personas. But as you may already have read the villagers always played along with Barry and his personalities and got great entertainment from it, especially as Barry did not know that they all knew he was schizophrenic and was many different people. So far he was known as: Barry Fondle, Barry Fumbler, Barry Undle, Mr Undlewood, Fairy Bundle, Barely Thimble and Flora Bundle. There may be more but you would have to look them up in the Barafundle Glossary that was kept in the local village hall, non of the villagers knew where this book had appeared from, but someone must of written it? It held a lot of useful info about tree spirits, spiritual animals etc, it had been written before Strawberry Hill time had began according to some villagers.
The Civil Partnership was a full village affair and all were invited. Barry is a respected, sort of, member of the community and so the villagers would have attended on invite alone but more importantly they all wanted to see how Barry was going to marry himself. And the icing on the cake, as it were, was that the invite announced that Barry Fumbler was going to be the registrar!
Everyone took their places in the local village hall, the buzz was amazing. Everyone spoke between themselves, behind their Order of Ceremony lilac A4 sheets, excited to see the show.
Barry Fumbler walked up the aisle, left foot forward – pause – right foot to left foot – pause, and so on. He did this all the way up the aisle towards the trestle table at the end of the aisle, as he neared his destination he turned to smile sweetly to the congregation, caught his foot on a protruding dome in the linoleum flooring (this protruding dome was only the size of a marble but enough to send the 3ft’ish Barry to the deck). Everyone gasped and many went to leap to Barry’s aid but Barry stood up so quickly he almost catapulted himself over the trestle table. He regained his balance, turned slowly and gave a big toothy, grin to the villagers. As he turned, the villagers noticed that Barry’s toupee had slipped backward about 4 inches, most managed to stifle there laughter, all except Gran Broon that is, who was laughing like a hyena in the back row, Granpa Broon was elbowing her numerous times in the ribs to get her to stop. If you looked at the crowd not many faces could be seen behind their lilac A4 sheets but many heads were bobbing uncontrollably.
“Ahem…..AHEM…..Dearly departed we are gathered here today to witness the joining in matri money of Mr. Barry Undle and Mr. Fairy Bundle.” Barry Fumbler announced, whilst trying to covertly (not) move his toupee back into place with a regular jerk forward of his head. “Ladies, Gentlemen…friends….ethical canibals......Argos delivery men.....and.....my banking call centre manager, Count Vladimer Dreccla..... please welcome the bride Fairy Bundle.” Barry Fumbler indicated towards the back of the room to the double doors. Everyone turned instantly to see how he was going to do this. Barry Fumbler ran out the side door at break-neck speed…….
Within 3 seconds Fairy Bundle threw open the village hall’s double doors and started forward, left foot-pause - right foot (you know it by now). The Wedding March jingle started to play from a single cassette player Fairy had hanging off his dress………......…
"Stop this farce!" Someone shouted. "Fairy Bundle is married to me!"
"Who are you?" enquired Barry Fumbler.
"I am Barney Fumble, lovechild of Barrie Undle and Flora Bundle!"
"But I am the lovechild of Barrie Undle and Flora Bundle!" announced Fairy "I lost my memory during a bizarre canoeing accident, and it's all just come back to me!"
"You didn't lose your memory whilst out canoeing, Fairy." Barney countered passionately. He turned to the congregation dramatically, "We have been living in Panama for the past four years in holy wedlock!" He turned to Fairy, "You only came back to have your beard trimmed!"
The congregation gasped. This wedding was turning out to be more fun than they'd anticipated. How did he manage all those different voices, they mused.
:):):)Absolutely brilliant. How are you going to resolve this one? Can't wait to see!
:):):)Absolutely brilliant. How are you going to resolve this one? Can't wait to see!
Said Barry to himself…..
Fairy Bundle slapped Barnie Fumble around the face, oiked up his skirts and carried on down the aisle. The stress of the accusation caused Fairy to get his footing wrong as he went up the aisle and ended up doing a Hunchback of Notre Dame lurch up to the trestle table.
Everyone was glued to the proceedings now, this was even better than Barry’s 5 man motorcycle team display he did at last years Carnival, ok it was only five motorcycles but he kept them going all by ‘himselves’ and he did the commentary too!
Fairy reached the table, put both hands on it to support himself and sighed deeply. He regained his composure, bent down, lifted his skirts (which looked most peculiar from where the congregation was sitting) and started to gyrate his hips, slowly at first but then he gained speed which made his golden ringlets swirl out around his head like helicopter blades. This commotion stopped with a clank of something dropping to the floor, Fairy quickly collected whatever the item was and tucked it back into his skirts, an audible click and whirring sound was heard.
He turned to the congregation and said, “Did anyone see where Barry Fumbler the Registrar went?”
Everyone slowly shook their heads some with mouths ajar some with big grins and then there was old Maurice Morris, the village hall warden, he had fallen asleep at the back of the room, well he was 103 bless him, but still going strong (he had medication for that though)! Maurice didn’t usually attend enclosed room functions but Barry and Fairy had been insistent that he attended and threw him an extra fiver for his time. Maurice was well happy he had made £5.75 today!
Everyone continued to keep their attention on Fairy.
“Oh well,” he said. He turned back to the trestle table and picked up a note and read it aloud. “Dear Barry and Fairy, I have just realised I have left a turkey in the oven. Mother always insists we cook the Christmas turkey early. I have left all your paperwork for your burial here, just sign and the job is done. Oakapple is waiting in the carpark and knows what to do. Congrates BF.” Fairy looked up and turned to the crowd and smiled. “Anyone got a pen?” Judith from No:1 offered her biro. Fairy signed on the dotted line. “Anyone seen my beloved Barry?” he asked. Again shake of the heads.
Fairy without warning jumped up and down but not just a little jump a full knees to the chest jobbie. This made everyone jump and Granpa Broon fell off his chair. The whirring sound started again.
“Won’t be a minute darling!” Came Barry’s distant voice. Everyone looked around to see where Barry was. (Funny how you can get caught up in other people’s illusions isn’t it? Barry was right in from of them, but we will leave them to work that out for themselves again.) “I have a queezy tummy Darling, could you come into the loo’s and help me darling?” Fairy made another little coy grin, curtseyed and left via the side door to the outside loos…………
:rollaugh:
Cirrus,
You are a very clever lady with a great sense of humour.:011:
May I wish you all the best for Christmas. x 🙂
:rollaugh:
Cirrus,
You are a very clever lady with a great sense of humour.:011:
May I wish you all the best for Christmas. x 🙂
...Came a voice form the cubicle next to Fairy's. Barry's queezy tummy had turned out to be explosive diarrhea.
"Not now disembodied voices, this is complicated!" exclaimed Fairy.
"Who's that?" said the voice next door."I thought you were Cirrus."
"This is bl**dy serious!" shouted Fairy."Chuck us some bog roll will ya!"
Well just watch out where you stick that bog roll 'cos if it causes a blockage and he starts blowing off instead, he'll be banned!