Kharon
13th Nov 2012, 21:05
It was a the beginning of a beautiful sunset over the Styx, the ever faithful Minnie Bannister had parked the carriage, groomed, fed and watered the horses. I was parked in my favourite old deck chair, watching the delivery men taking away the empty barrel from the "K" fridge (more on that later) and anticipating one of the in house dancing girls delivering a cool, perfect pint of my favourite ale. I lit a Cohiba from the magic lamp, knocked the top two inches of my pint and settled back to enjoy the tranquillity of my favourite view: Hell in the rear view mirror.
I noted a small dust cloud over the rise leading down to the river bank, 'thinks' who in all the hells is that, this time of day. I watched and over the rise appeared a gilded howdah with red and white curtains, "hulloah", say I, "what's all this then". Emerging from the dust the shape of an elephant materialised, but it weren't like no elephant I'd ever seen. It was huge, covered in graffiti and it had obviously seen some action. Well, long story short eventually it pulls up at the bottom of my boarding ramp, not being a social sort plus having my sun downer interrupted I decided to get in first "Piss off – the ferries shut for the night".
The howdah curtain was slowly raised and a rope ladder was let down, 'thinks' If I have to put this ale and this cigar down, there's going to serious bother". "Minnie, fetch me gun and the big loopers".
The passenger had just made a mistake, coming arse first down a rope ladder is a tempting target for a nut with a gun at sunset, Minnie put a trebling hand on my arm and whispered "hold on – he's not a dead 'un". "Bugger it" says I, "bloody visitors". And it was.
Not as small as Minnie, but not my size, bright wise eyes, puckish, nut brown face and dressed in a costume rescued from Aladdin's cave; short boots with curly toes, baggy pants a sword belt, bejewelled waist coat, the assembly topped off by a turban, secured with a polished turd the size of a house brick; Minnie felt the feather was a bit much.
"Greeting" says the vision, "I am the Gobbledock and come hither to stay a while".
I couldn't help it, the whimsical smile, cheerful voice and clear delight in getting to my place sealed the deal. "Park the pachyderm in the animals playground and pull up a stump", says I, "Gryp type , the game keeper will sort him out; now, will ye have nuts or a cigar"?
And that children is the story of how the Gobbledock came to the Styx. More later.
I noted a small dust cloud over the rise leading down to the river bank, 'thinks' who in all the hells is that, this time of day. I watched and over the rise appeared a gilded howdah with red and white curtains, "hulloah", say I, "what's all this then". Emerging from the dust the shape of an elephant materialised, but it weren't like no elephant I'd ever seen. It was huge, covered in graffiti and it had obviously seen some action. Well, long story short eventually it pulls up at the bottom of my boarding ramp, not being a social sort plus having my sun downer interrupted I decided to get in first "Piss off – the ferries shut for the night".
The howdah curtain was slowly raised and a rope ladder was let down, 'thinks' If I have to put this ale and this cigar down, there's going to serious bother". "Minnie, fetch me gun and the big loopers".
The passenger had just made a mistake, coming arse first down a rope ladder is a tempting target for a nut with a gun at sunset, Minnie put a trebling hand on my arm and whispered "hold on – he's not a dead 'un". "Bugger it" says I, "bloody visitors". And it was.
Not as small as Minnie, but not my size, bright wise eyes, puckish, nut brown face and dressed in a costume rescued from Aladdin's cave; short boots with curly toes, baggy pants a sword belt, bejewelled waist coat, the assembly topped off by a turban, secured with a polished turd the size of a house brick; Minnie felt the feather was a bit much.
"Greeting" says the vision, "I am the Gobbledock and come hither to stay a while".
I couldn't help it, the whimsical smile, cheerful voice and clear delight in getting to my place sealed the deal. "Park the pachyderm in the animals playground and pull up a stump", says I, "Gryp type , the game keeper will sort him out; now, will ye have nuts or a cigar"?
And that children is the story of how the Gobbledock came to the Styx. More later.