...The morning sun was glinting dangerously on the sherry decanter. Mrs Bark-Slackbottom, the Housekeeper, was watching clouds of dust dancing in the sunshine. "What's the point of it all?" she pondered as a particularly large length of wiry purple fluff performed serene somersaults and then headed for the side table next to the bookshelf. The one she'd just meticulously polished. "You bastard" she screamed, then remembered that she was in a House of God. Well sort of...it was the Vicarage.
"You called?" replied the Vicar, standing at the door in his blue-striped pyjamas, a blessed cup of organic Bredon Hill Plum Wine in his hand. "Sorry Vicar" she replied, flushed and flustered, "I just can't keep on top of it all...soon as you dust a surface, it all settles down again, and you have to go over it, and over it. I tell you, it's not doing my tennis elbow any good in the slightest...the bastards."
"Do calm yourself Mrs Bark-Slackbottom. Life is much too short to worry about...
oh dear, you've missed a bit on the sideboard over there. And look at the window ledge. All those dead flies. And Fraulein Zonda von Krebb will be here shortly to discuss some of her very efficient, tried and trusted ways we can get more parishioners out of the Dog and Catbasket and into Evensong every Wednesday.
She's virtually guaranteeing a packed house.... although she's warning that the hymn singing may be a bit high-pitched. Really Mrs Bark-Slackbottom, you must be more diligent in your cleaning endevours! God will not be pleased! Incidentally, the cord has gone in my pyjamas. I don't suppose you can fix it before Fraulein von Krebb arrives. That silly salute she always performs when she sees me. I get so carried away by the moment I'm bound to let go of my pyjama bottoms and wouldn't that be embarrassing."
"What sort of tried and trusted ways Vicar?. You want to be careful. These Johnny Foreigners..."
"She's female Mrs Bark-Slackbottom. That makes her a Janet. Or a Jordan with massive mammaries and an obscene bulging bank account to match. Please get your genders right."
"And she's a Lutheran. You can't trust a Lutheran. Bastards, all of them!"
"In the eyes of our Lord, we are all equal Mrs Bark-Slackbottom. Now, please would you repair the cord in my pyjamas. Oh dear, look at the time. She'll be putting her fist through the front door any minute. My God, that's her approaching now...the drinks cabinet is locking itself!"
TO BE CONTINUED....(by You?)
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"Meanwhile back at the Vicarage"
4 comments:
The Vicar's houskeeper Mrs Slackbottom was an expert pyjama cord fixer. The amount of times she had repaired the very same item made her often wonder why the Vicar did not replace them.
"Charity might begin at home, but why, oh why, did he always have to get his pyjamas from charity too?" thought Mrs Slackbottom as she hurried to the santuary of her kitchen, well away from the steely gaze of Fraulein von Krebb, whom she was convinced was after the recipe for gin & soda scones which often won a prize at the local village show.
"Now, must put the kettle on and plate up the scones, some freshly made goosberry cream to go with them as well ..." she said to herself out loud , "Cannot have her getting the Vicar to unlock the drinks cabinet ... whatever would the patrons of the Dog and Catbasket think if they knew Fraulein von Klebb was more partial to several libations than they realised ...!"
Clink, clink, she could here glasses being moved ...
"Coming Vicar ..." she called, as she swept majestically into the drawing room, much relishing her perfect timing; yet again saving the Plum wine for a better cause ...
I sees that Frauleen Von Crabby woman gosse-stepping up the front drive of the Vicarage. She was clutching the latest edition of the Parish Magazine and looked right angry about it I can tell you. I reckon it's because The Vicar didn't include her classified ad for mail-order knuckledusters. She didn't just knock on the door, she ripped it off its hinges. Mrs Bark-Slackbottom, The Housekeeper, did a magnificent job of restraining her with a tray of fresh apple tartlets. That were the last time I saw Frappy Von Crabby alive...
Sadly, this was only in Denzil's dreams. Mrs Slackbottom's apple tartlets did a magnificent job of passifying Fraulein Von Krebb.
Thank you whoever you are, or whoever I am...
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