Welcome. Yes, the miscreant metaphysician returns to play fast and loose with the laws of language and share this dysfunction with anyone who's vaguely interested. Occasional readers - please bear in mind that I'm still attempting to hone my artistry and 'find my voice'. Erm, whatever that might entail...?
The following extract is from a comedy/satire: Touching Base. It's a novel that I've been neglecting of late but hope to get back to soon. This snippet concerns the arrival of a waste disposal contractor called Burt at Winston Grub's workplace (Winston being the central protagonist). Those involved are:
MAUDLIN LEECH - Androgynous office harridan and terminal gossip-monger. Has also been rumoured to do the occasional book-keeping.
CHASTITY SPOONER - elderly nymphomaniac and receptionist (a blond bombshell that's exploded).
HONORIA TATTLE – Obligatory workplace religious fanatic (cameo).
BURT – Sanitation contractor and living proof of the evolutionary ‘missing link’.
Naturally, it's all done in the worst possible taste! Enjoy...
'Sannie Days are here again' [extract].'This is a stick up!' Burt announced, brandishing an unused tampon at Chastity Spooner, receptionist at Final Resort Inc..
'Oh you're terrible!' She chided gently.
The sanitary-towel-collection-technician from 'Sannie Days' wasted no time eyeing up a woman who (in his opinion) was so amply-breasted she might have founded her own dairy. 'Awite darling, I've come for the old vampires' teabags, yeah?' He said with a hoarse chuckle.
Chastity fluttered her eyelids at him and smiled sweetly. 'Hi Burt. You're looking very nice in those dirty overalls.' She winked shamelessly.
Burt returned a broad smile. 'Yeah...err, it has been said before...' He smirked, winking back at her.
'I missed you last month. Were you on your hols?'
'That's right. Two weeks. Got a bit of a tan now...'
'Is it an all-over tan?' Chastity enquired with a salacious brush of the pen to her lips.
'Pretty well... Bet you still look half-decent in a bikini an' all.'
Chastity giggled coyly. 'Why thank you Burt. Maybe we could compare skin tones sometime?'
'Yeah, I'd be well up for a bit-a-that...no strings attached...y'know? I like 'em well upholstered, if you catch my drift...?'
'I see. Well, I could certainly do with a bit of re-stuffing here and there...' Chastity wheedled saucily, attempting to plump up her rather pendulous bosom.
Burt glanced at his watch. 'Well, I'll 'ave to catch yer later love. Schedules to keep an' all that. We all have to go with the flow. I mean, this is all very absorbing, but I must press-on, as we say in the trade,' he joked. With that, he disappeared into the ladies toilet and went about the unsavoury task of picking up used towels from an overflowing bin. After depositing the new bin, he made his way towards the stairs bearing his soiled cargo.
Maudlin, however, was waiting to pounce. 'Ere, I got a bone to pick with you.' she frowned.
'Yeah? So what can I do for you governor?'
'Excuse me it's 'Mrs Leech' or 'ma'am' to you, yer cheeky sod.' Maud raised a hand as if to slap him.
'Alright, alright, keep yer wig on miss Leech. So what can I do yer for?'
'You were supposed to do a collection last month. Where the 'ell were you, eh?'
'Listen love, I was in Marbella sunning my arse and checking out all da lovely senoritas. Know what I mean?' Burt winked.
'Ere, we'll 'ave less of that kind of talk. There's ladies present.' Maudlin screeched.
'Really? Where...?' Burt retorted.
Maudlin glared at him mercilessly. 'So what happened then? Why didn't they send someone else out, eh? That sanitary bin was overflowing! It's not bleedin' good enough!'
The savagery of Maudlin's stare only served to rile Burt. Other occupants of Final Resort now appeared transfixed by the unfolding melodrama.
'Listen love, don't 'ave a pop at me - just cuz the company forgets a stand-in collection. So I s'pose you were too lazy to pick up a phone up and sort it out?'
'Ere, don't you 'ave a pop at me neither,' Maudlin scolded, 'I'll 'ave a pop at you if you 'ave a pop at me. Anyway I did call 'em but they were too friggin' lazy to answer the phone!'
'Well that ain't my bloody fault!' Burt countered, 'Besides, I'm in a union. I don't 'ave to take this crap from arrogant cows like you...'
Maudlin wasn't accustomed to having someone stand up to her overbearing manner, let alone dare question her edicts. 'You what? Who you calling a bleedin' cow?' Maudlin's face flushed crimson, which in turn, took on a puce pallor. Coupled with her deeply furrowed scowl and clammy quivering jowls, her countenance assumed an uncanny resemblance to a baboon's hind quarters. 'Don't you talk to me like that yer bleedin' dick'ead!' She bellowed.
'Well I don't know why you're so pissed off anyway…bet you 'aven't needed plugging for at least a century.'
'Right, I'm gonna 'ave you!' Maudlin moved to slap him but Burt deftly parried the blow with his free hand. She was obliged to resort to stamping on his heavy-booted foot, which appeared to have little effect other than a comical one. They tussled some more until Maudlin realised he was more than a physical match for her. They glowered at each other venomously.
'You vicious little tart!' Burt snarled.
'Listen!' Maudlin screeched, 'just sling yer bleedin' hook alright? Go on, piss off! And I'll tell you something else for nothing 'n' all. I wouldn't bother going back to the depot cuz I'm cancelling the contract, yeah? 'Cuz by the time I've finished with 'em on the phone you won't 'ave a bleedin' job to go back to,' she concluded with a triumphal note.
With that, Burt turned on his heel and stormed downstairs, oblivious to Chastity’s demure wave goodbye.
'Yeah - good riddance to bad rubbish an' all...' Maudlin taunted after him. Still fuming, she sidled back to her lair.
Honoria promptly joined her. 'Are you alright Maud?' She said putting a consoling arm on her colleague’s shoulder.
'Yeah, I'm fine. I certainly sent that idiot away with a flea in his ear.' Maudlin winced as she rubbed an old injury on her elbow. 'Me old war wound's giving me a bit of gip though.'
Honoria wondered if it was a reference to the Crimea. 'Never mind, Maud. I can get you some aspirin if that helps?' She cooed.
'Nah, I'm alright. Besides, I've dealt with worse dickheads that that in my time. And if he ever comes back, I tell yer, I'll really give 'im what for…'
What the pair failed to notice was Burt tearing back up the stairs and into the office in high dudgeon. The perceived injustice of the exchange had driven him into a fury. He certainly wasn't ready to throw in the towel on what was, clearly, a 'bum (w)rap'. It was therefore something of a shock as he heaved up the sanitary container and upended it over their heads. The empty vessel was then hurled to the corner of the office where it clattered noisily.
Honoria screamed.
'You can stick yer frigging contract!' Burt bawled. 'And you can stick it where you normally stick these bloody things! I'm sick of you lot and I'm sick of this fuckin' job!'
Hearing the commotion, Jason gallantly leapt into action. However, he was too late to apprehend the perpetrator who had sped back downstairs. Maudlin looked up at him dolefully. A particularly soiled tampon had become entangled by the drawstring in one of her enormous faux-gold earrings. Noticing that something moist had adhered itself to her cheek, Honoria promptly burst into tears.
In a show of unity, other office inhabitants gathered around the traumatised pair to offer help, wet-wipes and, generally, put on a show of solidarity. This was with the exception of Winston. Indeed, tucked neatly away, back of shop, no one noticed his absence or the cheeky grin that touched, briefly, across his face.
Oh yes, for those downtrodden souls like Winston, this was a good day. In fact, an excellent day and things were looking decidedly sunnier. Somehow, in some small way, it seemed the cosmic balance had been temporarily restored.
© Edwin Black 2010
The following extract is from a comedy/satire: Touching Base. It's a novel that I've been neglecting of late but hope to get back to soon. This snippet concerns the arrival of a waste disposal contractor called Burt at Winston Grub's workplace (Winston being the central protagonist). Those involved are:
MAUDLIN LEECH - Androgynous office harridan and terminal gossip-monger. Has also been rumoured to do the occasional book-keeping.
CHASTITY SPOONER - elderly nymphomaniac and receptionist (a blond bombshell that's exploded).
HONORIA TATTLE – Obligatory workplace religious fanatic (cameo).
BURT – Sanitation contractor and living proof of the evolutionary ‘missing link’.
Naturally, it's all done in the worst possible taste! Enjoy...
'Sannie Days are here again' [extract].'This is a stick up!' Burt announced, brandishing an unused tampon at Chastity Spooner, receptionist at Final Resort Inc..
'Oh you're terrible!' She chided gently.
The sanitary-towel-collection-technician from 'Sannie Days' wasted no time eyeing up a woman who (in his opinion) was so amply-breasted she might have founded her own dairy. 'Awite darling, I've come for the old vampires' teabags, yeah?' He said with a hoarse chuckle.
Chastity fluttered her eyelids at him and smiled sweetly. 'Hi Burt. You're looking very nice in those dirty overalls.' She winked shamelessly.
Burt returned a broad smile. 'Yeah...err, it has been said before...' He smirked, winking back at her.
'I missed you last month. Were you on your hols?'
'That's right. Two weeks. Got a bit of a tan now...'
'Is it an all-over tan?' Chastity enquired with a salacious brush of the pen to her lips.
'Pretty well... Bet you still look half-decent in a bikini an' all.'
Chastity giggled coyly. 'Why thank you Burt. Maybe we could compare skin tones sometime?'
'Yeah, I'd be well up for a bit-a-that...no strings attached...y'know? I like 'em well upholstered, if you catch my drift...?'
'I see. Well, I could certainly do with a bit of re-stuffing here and there...' Chastity wheedled saucily, attempting to plump up her rather pendulous bosom.
Burt glanced at his watch. 'Well, I'll 'ave to catch yer later love. Schedules to keep an' all that. We all have to go with the flow. I mean, this is all very absorbing, but I must press-on, as we say in the trade,' he joked. With that, he disappeared into the ladies toilet and went about the unsavoury task of picking up used towels from an overflowing bin. After depositing the new bin, he made his way towards the stairs bearing his soiled cargo.
Maudlin, however, was waiting to pounce. 'Ere, I got a bone to pick with you.' she frowned.
'Yeah? So what can I do for you governor?'
'Excuse me it's 'Mrs Leech' or 'ma'am' to you, yer cheeky sod.' Maud raised a hand as if to slap him.
'Alright, alright, keep yer wig on miss Leech. So what can I do yer for?'
'You were supposed to do a collection last month. Where the 'ell were you, eh?'
'Listen love, I was in Marbella sunning my arse and checking out all da lovely senoritas. Know what I mean?' Burt winked.
'Ere, we'll 'ave less of that kind of talk. There's ladies present.' Maudlin screeched.
'Really? Where...?' Burt retorted.
Maudlin glared at him mercilessly. 'So what happened then? Why didn't they send someone else out, eh? That sanitary bin was overflowing! It's not bleedin' good enough!'
The savagery of Maudlin's stare only served to rile Burt. Other occupants of Final Resort now appeared transfixed by the unfolding melodrama.
'Listen love, don't 'ave a pop at me - just cuz the company forgets a stand-in collection. So I s'pose you were too lazy to pick up a phone up and sort it out?'
'Ere, don't you 'ave a pop at me neither,' Maudlin scolded, 'I'll 'ave a pop at you if you 'ave a pop at me. Anyway I did call 'em but they were too friggin' lazy to answer the phone!'
'Well that ain't my bloody fault!' Burt countered, 'Besides, I'm in a union. I don't 'ave to take this crap from arrogant cows like you...'
Maudlin wasn't accustomed to having someone stand up to her overbearing manner, let alone dare question her edicts. 'You what? Who you calling a bleedin' cow?' Maudlin's face flushed crimson, which in turn, took on a puce pallor. Coupled with her deeply furrowed scowl and clammy quivering jowls, her countenance assumed an uncanny resemblance to a baboon's hind quarters. 'Don't you talk to me like that yer bleedin' dick'ead!' She bellowed.
'Well I don't know why you're so pissed off anyway…bet you 'aven't needed plugging for at least a century.'
'Right, I'm gonna 'ave you!' Maudlin moved to slap him but Burt deftly parried the blow with his free hand. She was obliged to resort to stamping on his heavy-booted foot, which appeared to have little effect other than a comical one. They tussled some more until Maudlin realised he was more than a physical match for her. They glowered at each other venomously.
'You vicious little tart!' Burt snarled.
'Listen!' Maudlin screeched, 'just sling yer bleedin' hook alright? Go on, piss off! And I'll tell you something else for nothing 'n' all. I wouldn't bother going back to the depot cuz I'm cancelling the contract, yeah? 'Cuz by the time I've finished with 'em on the phone you won't 'ave a bleedin' job to go back to,' she concluded with a triumphal note.
With that, Burt turned on his heel and stormed downstairs, oblivious to Chastity’s demure wave goodbye.
'Yeah - good riddance to bad rubbish an' all...' Maudlin taunted after him. Still fuming, she sidled back to her lair.
Honoria promptly joined her. 'Are you alright Maud?' She said putting a consoling arm on her colleague’s shoulder.
'Yeah, I'm fine. I certainly sent that idiot away with a flea in his ear.' Maudlin winced as she rubbed an old injury on her elbow. 'Me old war wound's giving me a bit of gip though.'
Honoria wondered if it was a reference to the Crimea. 'Never mind, Maud. I can get you some aspirin if that helps?' She cooed.
'Nah, I'm alright. Besides, I've dealt with worse dickheads that that in my time. And if he ever comes back, I tell yer, I'll really give 'im what for…'
What the pair failed to notice was Burt tearing back up the stairs and into the office in high dudgeon. The perceived injustice of the exchange had driven him into a fury. He certainly wasn't ready to throw in the towel on what was, clearly, a 'bum (w)rap'. It was therefore something of a shock as he heaved up the sanitary container and upended it over their heads. The empty vessel was then hurled to the corner of the office where it clattered noisily.
Honoria screamed.
'You can stick yer frigging contract!' Burt bawled. 'And you can stick it where you normally stick these bloody things! I'm sick of you lot and I'm sick of this fuckin' job!'
Hearing the commotion, Jason gallantly leapt into action. However, he was too late to apprehend the perpetrator who had sped back downstairs. Maudlin looked up at him dolefully. A particularly soiled tampon had become entangled by the drawstring in one of her enormous faux-gold earrings. Noticing that something moist had adhered itself to her cheek, Honoria promptly burst into tears.
In a show of unity, other office inhabitants gathered around the traumatised pair to offer help, wet-wipes and, generally, put on a show of solidarity. This was with the exception of Winston. Indeed, tucked neatly away, back of shop, no one noticed his absence or the cheeky grin that touched, briefly, across his face.
Oh yes, for those downtrodden souls like Winston, this was a good day. In fact, an excellent day and things were looking decidedly sunnier. Somehow, in some small way, it seemed the cosmic balance had been temporarily restored.
© Edwin Black 2010
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