Continue the story.....

[poppy]

PC Disorderly approaching, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Of a rather rotund physique, with a marked cake surplus around his middle, he managed to gasp out, 'Hold *puff* up! Come to *puff* take your *puff* handcuffs *puff* off.' 

'Praise be! My faith, though less than a mustard seed and moving no mountains, has nevertheless been rewarded. The Good Lord has seen fit to release me from my bondage, part the stormy waters of the Red Sea and will lead me to the Promised Land. Hallelujah!'

Once Disorderly caught his breath, he explained that ...

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the Major had accused Johnny Revolting of running a house of ill repute, however the Major was assumed , currently, to have taken leave of his senses.

As a man of the cloth, asked Disorderly,  what would Jesus do in the circumstances..?..

'Let's look at it this way..I have been a parson for 30 years and I can justly report that the best course of action is to take a line of  least resistance.

Never let circumstances get you down..now..Disgusting is no criminal..Mr Disgusting ain't no criminal, that much is certain..as to whether Daddy Flowers is deranged, heaven only knows..tell you what ..I will go see him , wearing my spiritual compass round my neck, and I will ascertain for you how he's faring these days..I ought not believe it should help but oh God,I do....'

Disorderly, always happy to delegate police work to priests, assented. Following Tuesday, a knock at the Major's door at 2pm.

'Who the veritable blazes..at this damned , tarnation bound wreck of a time..??', asked Major Flowers..'Why...

Edited April 22 by itsmeagain

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do you all hound me so? Is a man to get no peace? Cats caterwauling, deranged dogs, Revolting rotters, pesky Parsons and bothersome boys in blue. Where does it all end, that's what I want to know.' The Major clutched at his hair, which didn't really have enough spare for that kind of treatment.

'Dear Major, you're merely suffering from the ill effects of stress and overwork. What you need is a complete rest, and I know just the place.'

'Do you really think,' asked the Major pathetically ...

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'that the benefits of rigidly adhered to Tai Chi, 4 times a week, with two seshes on each 3rd Sunday, shall assist me in counteracting the wear and tear of everyday life..?'

The parson cautioned against Tai chi, ' one cannot trust the heathen nations, especially the Communists..only last week your dear son in law espoused a fearful mix of Stalinised Marxian economics, rehashed Sufi Islam, and Proudhonesque anarchism...I felt so aghast I reached for the Anadin immediately.  Never mind. Give Jesus a try..'

' I am , dear parson, somewhat prone to giving Jesus a try.. as for that man, he's no son in law of mine. I will again ask the police to take action..I say, Vicar, you still have your handcuffs on..my neighbour Reg Bullblock, a personal trainer,  sawed mine off..'

'Well you see it's a rather delicate scenario old bean..the Old Bill lost track of me.....

Edited April 19 by itsmeagain

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...very out of shape he is. I gave up waiting for him to find the handcuff keys he'd dropped somewhere along the way. So I thought I'd find me boys, they're expert in the art of lock-picking, bless 'em. Now you just come with me and I'll introduce you to an old friend of mine, Maud Heliotrope, she runs a retreat for ...

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ageing servicemen such as you..I feel ...'

''God's sakes man,do take off those diabolical cuffs..I am not associating with you unless you let my  neighbour cut them off. Let me give him a bell...Hank..yes it's me Major..bring the bolt cutters..I've a vicar in handcuffs and don't want to cause any unwanted attention..'

' I'll be right over', declared Hank,carrying a 

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seriously substantial pair of bolt cutters, equipped to despatch the largest of locks.

'Gazooks, man, watch where you're waving that great big thing around!'

'Now don't yous fret, Padre, me'll 'ave you out o' tha int jiffy.' He tapped the side of his nose and with a loud chuckle added, 'Tha soul o' discretion, tha's me, you boys and yon bedroom games.'

The Vicar bridled and retorted indignantly...

 

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'now I do caution you, in the name of the Higher One, that all or any references to homosexuality, or any such, will lead you to be ..' 

'Hom..?..no, I think..OK, lemme say I love a  good shindig like any bloke..Madame Cruella on Shoreditch,  is my go to..'

'How dare you..  😤 may I have her name and address? Such reprehensible conduct will be wiped out..', said Major F, writing name and number down , before declaring, ' now Vicar, don't tell my daughter but am off to tell Madame I am ringing the police..-'.

Checking he had his bank card, he dialled..

''Hello, Cruella house', said a camp, hoarse, whispering presence, 

Edited April 22 by itsmeagain

[poppy]

'Come up and see me sometime.'

This being a family forum, we'll draw a polite veil over what occurred between Cruella and Major F.  But suffice it to say that the police did become involved, not at the request of the Major but rather in the form of a raid on an unlicensed premises. He was caught in a most compromising position and found himself once again sporting a pair of sturdy handcuffs.

Being allowed to make one phone call, he rang ...

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his dear daughter, Rosie Flowers. ' Yes now, what what..I say, I am in a spot of bother down here in the police 🚔 station and, oh Rosalyn, daddy requires assistance from you if one be rash enough to ask for it..I was in a brothel, only I thought brothel meant a German type soup den, a bit like in Schopenhauer' s cult classic, Essen di zuppen, lower der reason.' If you ain't a clue, read German lit..Next minute, PC Bulldog and PC Rottweiler, carry me out, moi still protesting my innocence,  ' oh it's a den of vice, I come down on Boxing day each year, confessed. Bulldog..and I..Rosalyn..? Are you..? '

'OMG daddy..what on earth..

Edited April 23 by itsmeagain

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are you talking about! You're not making any sense and your words are all garbled. Have you been drinking or something? Oh no! You haven't been ...'

'Here give me the phone,' I said. 'Now Major, let me speak to the Fuzz.'

'Who's fuzzy? Are you calling me fuzzy, you impertinent whippersnapper? I'll have you know ...'

I hung up on him. 'Oh dear, we seem to have been cut off. Never mind ... he'll ring back.'

'But where is he?' wailed Rosie.

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'Oh didn't I say....? He took a walk along the Thames..saying he likes a good constitutional, this gent..if you see him, do send my regards, and whatever ails him, shall certainly pass. '

Hoping never to see him again, I poured myself strong tea and slurped it with gusto,and

Edited April 24 by itsmeagain

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asked Rosie if there were any of my favourite jammie dodgers left.

'I can't be thinking of jammie dodgers at a time like this! Whatever's wrong with you, Johnny?? Daddy's obviously suffering from some sort of temporary mental lapse and he needs us!'

'That's all very well, but we've no idea where he is (I knew exactly where he was but had no intention of sharing that little piece of info) and ...

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what's more, we are running out of cat litter..I'll ring the Vicar and ask about that lorry load that overturned a week ago' ..''Oh Johnny, yes, and ask for it free..every little helps..'

''Parson, it's me...'

'Oh..Disgusting, what a surprise..'

'Revolting..Johnny Revolting..' 'Old chap don't be rude..''

'I want a half ton of cat litter free, you promised me last week..can you arrange..?'

Edited April 25 by itsmeagain

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for delivery?'

'Well I don't know about that...'

'I've been tossing up whether it's really worth the bother of putting up with your pesky boys around the place,' I added.

'Very well, then,' he sighed. 'You do know the esteemed Major Flowers is being held in police custody, don't you? He's asking for bail, but as you know, my limited funds won't allow for it at this stage. Perhaps you ...?'

'Best to let the law take it's course, I feel. And not a word to Rosie, she thinks he's away on holiday in Liechtenstein and the idea of him being incarcerated would ...

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sadden her profusely...now chop chop Vicar.. ' 

Three hours 43 minutes, and  12 seconds later, a huge tipper truck, yellow in colour, arrived

 I heard a crash and many thuds, as half a ton of cat litter was opposed onto the cat cafe courtyard.  ' What in God's holy name.  

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are those morons doing out there?'

On inspection, I discovered the huge pile of cat litter, mixed with a generous helping of dirt, deposited slap bang in front of our door, making it impossible to open. I bellowed at the idiots but they just waved and drove off.

Fuming, I rang the truck company and told them if they didn't move the heap forthwith, they'd have a lawsuit on their hands.

But the receptionist said that those were the instructions given, she had them in front of her.

'Who in hell gave those orders, I'll have their...'

But she'd hung up.

That left only one thing to do,

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so I rang  Out of the Frying Pan, a greasy spoon delivery service in Clapham. I ordered 200  beef patties on bread, to be sent immediately to Pompous Our Lord of Holy Fathers, Bugle Rd, London.

Cash on delivery..all 700 quid..from my esteemed colleague and friend, Victor Cross, Parson extraordinaire. Three hours 1 minute later, a furniture van turned up at the parson' s church.

It was now 8pm and no one seemed to be around.

Fred Fallacious, 43, a driver from Surbiton, knocked, no reply.

Eventually he got hold of Victor's wife, Petunia, an ex administrator for a team of bucket manufacturers in Shoreditch,who met the parson while dreaming about marigolds in a Starbucks in Salop.

''Ere brav, oive a tan a bladdy beef burgers ere an I wanssum offa me ands,ya get me?  Get daan ere naa..'

Trusting in the beneficence of the Lord, Parson Victor felt it would be  gratis, a gift from God.

' Awfully kind of you, I'll be there in 5..toodle oo', and at that, the driver just tipped the burgers onto the porch,stood laughing, and awaited our dear man of the Lord to grace us..

Edited April 27 by itsmeagain

[poppy]

with his presence. 'Well praise be!' Parson Cross enthused, 'God has provided, the poor of our parish will be fed tonight. It reminds me of the Bible story of the five loaves and two fishes that fed the multitudes. All it takes is the faith of a mustard seed to move mountains. And here we have a veritable mountain of beef burgers, my prayers have been answered. Thank you, thank you for your stupendously generous donation,' he said wringing the drivers hand. 'May God bless you abundantly and peace be with you brother.'

The driver looked very sheepish and decided he'd send the bill instead to Mr Revolting who had ordered the consignment.

'Ahh humm, you're very welcome Padre ... your Reverence ... Your Holiness ...'

'HAHAHA,' Victor gave a great braying laugh, causing Fred to take a nervous step backwards, 'just call me ...

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Victor..errrmmm..been having a lot of weather last few weeks old chap..dunno if you're keen on the weather..ahem..old bean..what are you dong on...'

And at that, Fred Fallacious drove the lorry so swiftly, it overturned the  scooter of Dejan Parsimonious,  34, a  bookmaker from Stroud, on a day visit  to the capital. Fred continued to drive, his aim being to get as far from  London as possible. Undeterred,  Fred continued to drive, the aim being to escape the clutches of the ' woofter'  as he so prejudicially, and incorrectly,  interpreted Parson Cross. Not one to shirk a challenge,  Fred went at 50 miles p. h., uncaring.

Parson Cross was suddenly left in a rain shower. 200 hundred beefburgers and baps, sizzling upon the doorstep of his rectory. 

' I ...

 

Edited Monday at 11:32 AM by itsmeagain

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desperately need your help!' pleaded Victor, to Mildred Beamish his office secretary. Mildred was a Ms, never married, middle-aged, wearer of no nonsense tweed and sensible brogues and the epitome of organisation and efficiency.

'Leave it with me, Vicar,' said Mildred, hoping sincerely that he would, Victor had a habit of getting under one's feet and generally making a nuisance of himself.

In no time at all, Meals On Wheels en masse had arrived and the whole steaming mountain had been transferred in to ...

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a van, awaiting delivery to the Edith Cavell nursing home [ 80 and above, Alzheimers], the Beers and Bonkers karaoke night at the Eagle and Washcloth, the local Scouts, and the local police station. 50 burgers apiece.  Mildred waved off the van affably, and, a mile away, my phone rang.

'Mr Repulsive..? The sum total of your burger bill is 800 quid ten p..it's Maggie May here, of Burn it fry it, then deny it..manufacturer of premium quality beef burgers, rolls, sandwiches..'

'I am Steve Smith, environmental health..ringing about a health inspection at your factory ', said I, 'I'm....

 

 

Edited Tuesday at 01:33 PM by itsmeagain

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arriving with my team today at ...'

'Sorry, wrong number!' and Maggie hung up.

That should be the last I hear from her, one problem solved.

Now to sort out the half tonne of cat litter blocking our front door, which the steady pouring rain had swollen to twice its size and weight. Wait until I get my hands on that Victor Cross,  preferably round his skinny little neck, he'd  ...

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better get the Lord to proffer a decent explanation,  or it's curtains for any hope of him entering our cat 🐈 cafe ☕️  ever again. For goodness' sake, the whole reason I ordered the burgers was to make the cowardly vicar  pay for them..after all, he'd allowed a delivery man to chuck a ton of cat litter onto the lawn in the blooming rain. I was just pouring out thick strong tea , when 'daddy' got hold of his dear daughter on the landline. 

'Rosie, dearest daughter of mine..'

'Daddy..really..how many have you got..?'

'We will not go there dearest..now, at last the police have fed me..am being released really soon..I had a burger and I feel quite light...

Edited Wednesday at 03:06 PM by itsmeagain

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headed. How I'm supposed to survive on only one burger, heavens only knows. It's cruelty by starvation, that's what it is. They only agreed to feed me when I pleaded and begged them and admitted I was guilty. Of course I'm not, but a man can't go nearly four hours with only a cup of tea and a few biscuits! I ask you! Anyway, can you come and get me?'

'Daddy! I didn't know you'd been arrested! Nobody told me! Why has nobody told me?' Rosie turned a look of pure accusation on me.

'Well, darling, it's like this ...