General Chat

shortly, i will be re posting an old thread of mine.. sadly gone when my membership ran out. I luckily had saved this thread, and will put it back up. my reason.. well, its a reminder of the good times on here, and that, with patience and good will, perhaps we can resurrect the ' good times' including old and new members alike. We all can but try cant we , because i for one am not ready to give up.. just yet! :))

Ms Guin De Vere…………………. Owner of Fondent Fancy, cake shop, and secret other life. Ms Driving daisy Buttercup……………………ageing hippy Lemonella Buttercup…………………………. Cannot work on account of her stilletos Wendy Wigglesbottom (nee Buttercup)……………Postmistress Our Joanie Buttercup………………….no occupation as yet Emsie Buttercup……………………..Writer (of sorts) Clevver Hevver……………………Fine Art Student (FART) and part time taxi office. Sheila………………..Owner of sheila’s wheels Steve Mc Boffin……………………Taxi driver Dave B Duckworth…………………Bar proper upper Mazerella Penderfeast……………….barmaid and DHSS spy Bouffant Babs……………………….Hairdresser Howie……………………………..(to be decided) Jim Branswing……………………Bookies favourite Gwendoline housemartin…………….retired Bee keeper Rebecca Melonchest……………………lemonella’s love rival Daniel O Donell……………………….Jean Etta’s Lodger, and wannabe taxidermist Jean Etta Slobovich……………..Chip shop owner Jessica Bobbin………………….Dog warden and another job to be decided Miss nancy Anna marple……….Knitter of tea cosies Stephanie steed……………… Neice to wendy, and trumpet player. Polly Annidin................................ resident strumpet :)) Ayley Hay......... ........Healthfood shop owner and lover of Gin Rosey Clacton....... ........Local GP and part time Pole dancer hellena Bellbottom..... .....foreign exchange student from Wales Julia catatonia.............. Night club singer and BC's youngest daughter Joy De verve..,, ........Church warden and secret lover of Robsin Hoodly Paul chunkly..... ............Grrrr Arms bouncer ( doorman) and monkey trainer Maggy Blanche Ristol... ..................The streets busybody and model for optical express Terenda wafflegob... .............Maggies sidekick and cleaner at the pub Geri -Maine Slobovich,................ Jean etta's sister and full time Haddock catcher Roxey Anne Sultan... ex porn star, now GRrrrrArms landlady Gaudy Georgie............colour blind dress designer Jackie O'Norris...... newsagent Rita Tor................Newsagent LesseyLee...................barmaid

CHAPTER ONE Betty Camberwell, the Pub landlady stopped wiping down the bar and with a flourish, threw the wet jaycloth at Dave B Duckworth, who was propping up the corner of the bar. “ Oi missus, what did I do? ” shouted Dave indignantly Betty pushed up her nose a little higher “ there is no need for THAT sort of talk in here thankyou very much ” Dave mutered into his pint of mild and kept quiet. Ms Camberwell had run the GR Return for a few years now and like to run an orderly establishment. At times though it was extremely difficult, what with youngsters posing as adults, people who came in for just a fight, and strange irish women with flowery names and a terrible singing voice…. Just as Dave was about to speak again the doors to the pub flew open….. “ oy ’ ll have a point of baileys an a poacket of pork scratchings deary ” In breezed Driving miss Daisy buttercup, wearing what looked like a Yak blanket and a pair of furry pink mules. She perched on the end of a bar stool and sipped her baileys though a straw. “ Has anyone seen my daughter ? ” she inquired to the pub in general. “ which one would that be ? ” inquired Dave playfully “ you have so many children miss Daisy, some you don ’ t even know about I bet ”“ tut ” replied Miss daisy, “ well it WAS the 60 ’ s you know, it was a very hazy time back then ” miss daisy momentarily smiled at the thought of kaftans and orange dayglo wallpaper. “ I meant Lemonella nelly, she got in a strop earlier and turned rather citrus in colour…. ” Ms Camberwells ears pricked up at the word strop and leant in closer to listen…. Miss Daisy carried on “ you see it all started with a haddock and a young lad named Daniel O donell ” …….

CHAPTER TWO Just as Ms daisy was about to tell all she felt a draught behind her (pun intended), the doors opened to find Gwendoline HouseMartin standing in bemusement. Miss daisy pulled her yak closer round her shoulders and stared into her nearly empty bailys. Gwendoline slapped her green sequinned shoulderbag onto the bar and rolled her eyes heavenwards. ' I was supposed to be going to the Tips and Records office but forgot why' She rummaged around her bag and pulled out a Praline flake. ' oh well ' sighed gwendoline ' A latte and a bacon Butty please Betty' Ms Camberwell pursed her lips and straightened her shoulders ( she was quite tall and could be slightly intimidating especially when she used long words) ' now Gwendoline, I have told you before, this is NOT Hazy Harolds all night cafe' (run by Harold hazy) 'oh Damn' muttered gwendoline ' I really must stop faffing about ' she rummaged about in her bag again and plucked out her Chunnell reading specs' It was only then she noticed ms daisy, sucking the life out of the bottom of her glass. ' can i buy you a drink?' offered gwendoline ' oh, by the way, i have just seen your lemonella teetering on the cobbles outside in lemon stilletos and shouting at some poor unfortunate lad' Ms Daisy sat up alarmed... ' ' do you sell floor mops betty' gwendoline smiled innocently... ' oh woe is me wailed Ms Daisy ' what have i done to deserve such wayward children? If its not lemonella wandering about the country looking like a right lemon its our emsie writing libelous stories... and then there is ourJoanie... dont get ne started on her!!' ' another pint of bailys is it Daisy?' offered Betty Camberwell warming up to a good scandel......

CHAPTER 3 Lemonella pulled safetypin the hedgehog off the cobbles and onto the pavement.She had stopped outside Guin De Vere's Fondent Fancies cake shop, 'ooh look Safetypin, i know just the thing to cheer me up, a lovely squishy choccy eclair' lemonella tied the hedgehogs' lead to the drainpipe outside Fondent fancie, and clattered in her stilletos through the shop door. 'morning Guin' lemonella smiled looking eager at all the delightfull cakes. But Guin didnt hear her, she was miles away as she popped a cherry on top of a coconut swirl... 'Its an awfull day' carried on lemonella oblivious to the fact she hadnt got an audience.. ' someone told me last night that that temptress Rebecca melonchest has stolen my Dan O' Donell and run off o Milton Keynes with him to watch the Wurzels in concert' Lemonella heaved a big sigh.. nearly falling off her stilettos, ' i mean, just because she is younger than me, i dont think i look that bad for 63 do i Guin?' 'Guin?' lemonella suddenly realised Guin wasnt listening.... 'something funny about that woman 'thought lemonella' and so did quite a few other people, well except Ms Daisy Buttercup, who spent most of her time in a Baily induced haze, wondering how many children she actually had... but anyway, it was rumoured that Guin de vere had a secret past life.It was strongly rumoured thatshehad been a tiller girl at the Moulin Rouge and was whisked away one day by a Lord snodsbury to Bognor, thinking she was to be married to his Lordship only to find her brought her back to England to perform on Brighton pier as a duoble act with Cedric the comic contortionist. Guin in a broken hearted haze, ran away to catering college where she threw herself into perfecting the fondent fancy... but anyway where was i... oh yes... ' can i have a chocoalte eclair please Guin and a cream slice for safety pin?' Lemonella said loudly, 'oh, sorry deary, didnt see you there' replied Guin, quickly snapping out of her trance.. ' of course you can deary, and hows your love life these days, i heard you had got a young man' lemonella groaned... and started the sorry saga again.....

CHAPTER 4 It was a long day at the office…. The Post Office that is. Wendy Wigglesbottom, the post mistress had been dishing out the dosh all day to GRrrrrr Streets old and infirm… And Lemonella who was unable to work on account of her being a lemon. At 5.30pm precisely, Wendy heaved herself from behind the counter and went to shut up shop, when, suddenly out of the blue she stopped and flew around to look to the back of the post office. There crouching in the corner was Miss Stephanie Steed, the local stump… I mean trumpet player, blubbering away and with a wild look in her eye… “ oh bugger “ said wendy, “ it looks like Wiggleswick brass band has chucked Stephanie out again for blowing trumpets where she should ’ nt ” Never mind a long day, it was going to be a long night too… Wendy went to help her niece up off the floor, and guided her into the back kitchen behind the shop. She sat Stephanie down, and went to flick the kettle on when she realised sh had not locked the shop up. “ oh dear.. I wont be a min….. ” Too late, wendy heard the tinkle of the shop door, and in walked Jessica Bobbin with a very mangled Trumpet… “ ah ” said Wendy… “ don ’ t tell me where you found that then, I think I can guess ”“ well yes dear, and I had to use some force to prise it out of Gwynne De Vere ’ s Lemon Merangue! ” exclaimed Jessica. “ anyway, I must be off, I promised dave Duckworth a game of darts down at the GR Arms… see you later dear… ” And with a wave of her hand Jessica the local dog warden was off down the cobbles on her wonky bike….

pssst Our Em. couldn't you say 'just past her first flush of youth' ? Aging sounds so...old somehow:-))) Well done for reviving this, wonderful news. XX BC

Guin, quickly and quieltly slipped out of Fondent Fancies, and rushed down the cobbled street to Sheilas Wheels, the local taxi firm. She didn ’ t want to be seen, especially by Gwendoline housemartin (she always wanted to know how the flour industry was going) as her mission was of a secret nature. Sheila, the proprioter of Sheilas wheels, was not at work at the moment, having taken an enforced holiday to Milton Keynes. But sitting at the control desk wasHevver, the clever Fine Art student (FART), supplementing her pityfull grant with a bit of hot gossip and occasional work at the taxi firm. “ I would like a taxi please Hevver, quick as you can, I need to get to the train station before 6.30pm ” Guin looked furtively through the window of the taxi firms office, hoping she wouldn ’ t be caught out in there. Hevver, yawned slowly and cleared her throat, whilst pressing the mike on button to call for any available drivers. A couple of seconds later, a crackle came over the mike, and the cheery voice of Steve Mc Boffin boomed through . ” with you in two ticks Hevs, just offloading a poodle at Jillys scotish dancing class ”“ oh… er… ” started Guin “ I don ’ t think Ste….. “ too late, “ Ok Steve… roger an out an all that milarky ” called Hevver…. Yawning again for good measure. Guin cursed silently…. This could make thisngs very tricky.. very tricky indeed…..

CHAPTER SIX Bouffant Babs owned the hairdressers next to Fondent fancies. (Her speciality was bargain Basin Bobs) Busy inside, Babs was busy giving Howie from the Bookies a number 1 cut. (well he asked for a number 2 But Babs had lost her glasses). People told Babs everything whilst they had their heads shoved under the taps, and babs could write a book about the goings on in Grrr street.. only emsie had gor there first so ner ner…. Anyway.. Howie was lamenting about Ms Daisy,s terrible memory, and why she couldn ’ t remember if Howie really was just an uncle to lemonella, Our Jaonie, Emsie and wendy. The 60 ’ s had a lot to answer for Babs nodded and smiled at Howie, praying silently that she hadn ’ t nipped his ears with the clippers by mistake. “ never mind duck ” she quipped “ think of all that maintenance you have escaped. Especially for that lemonella and her endless supply of stilletos and elocution lessons ”“ Aye ” sighed howie “ and that finishing school in Bognor. Oh what a waste of money that was! ” Babs stood back to admire her handiwork… not that she could see a ruddy thing… She brushed the stray hair off Howies shoulders “ there we go Howie, all done ” then she added “ at least you don ’ t have the worries that Guin de Vere has, it must be so hard for her, with you know what…. And all that secrecy, couldn ’ t do it meself, well , not with this arthritis anyway… ” Babs went to pick up the hairspray (only she picked up the fly spray instead) and gave a generous squirt over Howies short (very) hair. “ same time next month Howie ” Babs smiled, and wondered what the awfull smell was……

CHAPTER SEVEN Over At the “Chip “n” Fin, the chip shop next door to the bookies, Jean Etta Slobovich ws switching on the fryers, ready for the evening session. Everbody admired jeans battered haddock, though people did tend to have to stand downwind of her when she was out and about. Jean did a lovely line in battered cucumbers too, but they only seemed to sell when the Grrr Arms was hosting a Hen night…. Cant think why…. Jean Etta was putting on her apron when she noticed Guin de Vere, hurrying into a taxi down the street. “ ah, she;s a rum one that Guin” jean said to herself “ whatever has she got in that suitcase?” Just then, a loud thump came form upstairs in the flat above the chippy. Daniel O’donnel her lodger was always dropiing things, mainly dead animals. Jean, prayed constantly that the environmental health dept didn’t get wind of Daniels Strange Exploits. Dan, was a scouse (nearly) taxidermist from Birkenhead, on the run from the Youth Police for being far too grown up for his own good. Jean agreed to put him up on the strict instructions he wasn’t to play any cliff Richard records or start smoking a pipe. Instead, Dan seemed to spend most of his time, flitting his affections between Rebecca MelonChest and poor Lemonella, oh and stuffing his hand up dead badgers arses. “strange lad that” thought jean. As well as the chip shop, jean Etta also ran a Wednesday group called H.A.S (BEAN) ( Haddock appreciation society). She had a stong gathering of Yorkshire born ladies who liked nothing better than to get rip roaringly drunk on lambrini and eat copious amounts of pontifract cake. Jean Etta popped the prepared chips into the Fryer, chucking in some battered curly wurlies for good measure (her friend SusieSmithes favorite). “There we go” jean said putting on her hair net “ ready for business”….

Jim Branswing (grandad jim to all his friends), Was just coming out of the bookies when he caught sight of howie, crossing the street from Babs Bouffant hair salon. Jim, went everyday to the bookies, always placing a bet on the 2;30 at Doncaster.. even when Doncaster wasn’t racing…. He caught up with Howie.. “phoar” jim exclaimed “Whats that smell?” he sniffed the air around Howie. “er, not sure Jim” said Howie quietly, leaning into jim as he spoke, “ I think its that airfreshner babs keeps using as a deodorant. Bit strong isn’t it” “Fancy a pint Jim?” they had just reached the pub entrance, “ ooh, not sure mate “ Jim sucked his teeth in” ( they never fitted properly after that incident with the bicycle tyre last week) “that Ms daisy is alwys in there and her yak blanket gives me hayfever” “ she’s on holiday jim” howie replied “ gone on a Mongolian cookery course in Rhyl” “ oh aye, Howie” jim mused, “ and what do Mongolians like to eat then I wonder” “ not sure jim, roast yak in baileys I think” They both entered the pub, scanning who was in as they walked over to the bar. Sadly, betty Camberwell the landlady had retired a couple of weeks ago. She was very much missed and her regulars were very sad to see her go, but understood her reasons. The brewery was advertising for a new tenant, and the pub was being run in the meantime by Mazerella pendereast. Part time barmaid, part time DHSS spy. Maz loved her job at the pub, and dearly wanted the landlady;s post, but the brewery were rather concerned about the huge sudden drop in babycham profits when maz was working.

CHAPTER NINE Steve Mc Boffin came to a stop outside Sheilas wheels, and , as he was about to open the car door to get out, Miss Guin De vere strode purposefully out of the office and deftly opened the rear passenger door, slipping in her suitcase and sat herself down . “ Evenin Guin, and where we off to this fine evening then” steve quipped, “ off to see your toyboy then?” he laughed good naturedly. “ Manchester Piccililly station please” Guin said, ignoring Steves question. Steve was a born flirt,of the harmless kind of course, and with so many women living in the street Steve had plenty of practice perfecting the banter. Steve loved being a taxi driver, and he took pride in his job. He had just bought a new car, a Vauxhall vectra, off a bloke he met at the dog track. The bloke said he was a traveling salesman, but steve thought he couldn’t have done much traveling as the car had only 8,000 miles on the clock, and it was 10 years old…Also, steve did wonder what sales the bloke sold because when he cleaned the car out after getting it home he found a tube of KY jelly in the glove box and some sort of leather bridle in the glove box… steve couldn’t for the life of him think what it was for…. And, every time steve made a sharp right hand turn, there was a strange vibrating noise below the drivers seat…. I must look under the seat. “steve kept thinking to himself” Try as Steve might though, Guin wasn’t going to join in with his harmless flirting, he kept glancing in his rear view mirror hoping to catch guins eye, but she continued to stare straight ahead, all through the journey.. 15 very silent minutes later Steve pulled up outside the train station, and before he could get out of the car, to help Guin with her case, she had shoved a £10 note in his hand and had jumped out of the car… “strange woman that” thought steve, as he pulled away from the station… though not before he caught sight of Guin striding purposefully to a young gentleman, stood waiting outside the ticket booth. Steve could just make out the mans features to be rather good looking, the man was smart suited, tall and looked slightly European, perhaps French, or Italian maybe…. “well my life… “ Steve remarked to himself” and with that he was off. The man spotted Guin and he smiled affectionally at her, “ mon cherry” he drawled “ you are just like your photograph ” Guin straigtened her back, held out her hand to the handsome stranger and announced” the name is Bond….. Guin Bond” And with that, they both strode quickly over to a waiting train…..

CHAPTER TEN The net curtains twitched in the front room of No 9 GRrrrrr St . Behind them, Polly Annadin patted her hair with glee, “ooh good” she said to her pet parrot Gordan Ramsay (on account of the parrots swearing ability) “ Steve Mc Boffin is around today” Polly went over to the phone, “ now, all I need to do is get that Rebecca Melonchest out of the way” Polly dialed Rebecca’s number… “Yarss?” (Rebecca had her telephone voice on again) “ Its me Rebecca, your best friend” lied Polly, without pausing for breath she went on “ I was talking to that Dan O Donell yesterday and he told me he wanted to show you his stuffed badger… tonight!” “polly smiled sarcastically into the phone” “Oh” Rebecca faltered “ well I was rather hoping to go to the GRrrr Arms, I think Steve is going to be in there tonight” “damn” polly swore quietly to herself.. then “ oh I don’t think so Rebecca, I just saw him taking that Terina O Fartly to the airport. He will be gone all evening” Polly waited while rebecca’s brain stopped whirring. “ oh well that’s ok then, Dans it is” Rebecca replied,he was good fun at that wurzels concert the other week” Phew, polly thought, that was close, “ see you then Rebecca, byeee” and without waiting for a reply, polly slammed down the phone and rushed over to the mirror hanging above the fireplace. “ Not bad, not bad” she commented to Gordan. Admiring her hair, even though she wasn’t really sure tight ringlets suited her, but Bouffant Babs had assured her they were back in fashion and soon everyone would have them. (in truth, babs had forgot to rinse out the perming lotion when she did polly’s hair last week and instead of the demi wave polly asked for, she ended up looking like a 40 year old Shirley temple) Polly rooted around in her handbag, applied a generous layer of lipstick, then sprayed herself liberally all over with eu de fungus, then headed for the front door slinging her hangbag over her shoulder on the way out. Polly had big plans for her and mr Steve Mc Boffin… and they didn’t include rebecca’s melon chest………

CHAPTER ELEVEN Of course, Terina O Fartly wasn’t on her way to the airport at all. She was perched on top of a bar stool in ‘Wining Ways’, Susie Smithes wine bar in Ancestry lane. Friday nights were lambrini nights, £3 a bucket, and free straws thrown in. Terina sipped delicately on her bucket and waited for Susie to finish her curly wurly (she ate a lot of those). Finishing, Susie wiped her mouth and pulled up a bar stool. “ so Terina, what do you think of my idea for Saturday nights then?” “ well” Terina replied, “ a happy hour always goes down well with the Yorkshire crowd” “ good” Susie beamed, “just what I was thinking, right, I think 6.30 til 11 sounds about right” (Susie was rubbish at maths.) Terina rolled her eyes heaven wards and kept quiet. Best let Susie just get on with it Terina thought. Suisie carried on “ jean etta down at the chippy does a happy hour too, selling half price haddock 30 mins before she closes, and that goes down a storm. That polly Annadin is always first in the queue” Terina sighed “ yes Susie, but that polly is always first in the queue for anything” “ no matter” Susie carried on, “ and what about an Irish night? That should be fun, ms daisy would like that” “ yes Susie, but what about Ms Daisy’s many strange daughters? “ Terina took a quick slurp of Lambrini” I mean, look at that lemonella, she goes round in yellow stilletos with a hedgehog on a lead. Then theres that wendy with her wayward neice the phantom trumpet player. And what about that Emsie… nobody has seen her for 2 years since she started writing a book . Oh and don’t get me started on that Our Joanie!” Susie mulled this over, “ well you have a point Terina, I know, what if I put up a sign outside… no stilettos, hedgehogs or yaks? That should sort it” And with that Susie picked up another curly wurly.

CHAPTER TWELVE Gwendoline Housemartin came out of the pub and was lured into the chippy by the smell of battered cucmber…. “evening Gwen” Jean Etta said as she threw another tray of chips into the fryer. “ what can I get you?” “ooh, do you have any jockey’s whips dear” Gwendoline enquired. “ jockeys whips? Jean etta was puzzled “ oh, you mean chips!. I didn’t now you was a cockney gwen” Jean Etta laughed. “ No” gwen replied “ I mean jockey’s whips, them things you smack horses backsides with”….. Suddenly, Jean Etta was distracted by a comotion outside the chippy… Rebecca Melonchest was about to knock on Dans Door when she spied polly Annadin Tarted up to the nines heading off to the pub…right behind Steve Mc Boffin. “Oi, you.. Dolly Polly” Rebecca shouted down the street. Polly paused and turned round “Ah.. erm “ polly stuttered… “ Rebebcca was having none of it, “ so where do you think you are going dressed up like Lily Savage on speed then?” She spat “ don’t tell me, you want to get me out of the way so you can get your size 12 feet under steve Mc Boffins table” Rebecca Glared hard at Polly, who had turned a deep shade of red, matching her dress.. “ Not at all, Rebecca, and anyway, my feet are a size 10 not 12… “ she lied. “ Anyway,” Rebecca carried on “ you look like a stick of rhubarb in that get up, steve wont look twice at you, especially with my.. er.. large up front commodities” polly knew she had a point.. well two of them actually, “ I am not after that Steve anyway, I just wanted to show off my new haircut” polly was getting desparate now, she had just seen Lemonella tottering into the pub and knew steve also had a thing about stilettos, In fact steve had a thing about a lot of things, but that’s another story…..

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Dan O Donnell was just at a tricky stage of the proceedings of clearing out a badgers insides, when the doorbell rang.. Immersed in what he was doing, Dan didn’t bother to check who was at the there, but just pressed the intercom buzzer to unlock the door… Big Mistake.. Instead of Lemonella who was supposed to be arriving , Rebecca melonchest came bounding up the stairs, her ample decolage giving her two black eyes on the way… “ hi danny boy” Rebecca breathlessly beamed “ what you got there… oh… urrgghh” Lemonella had just nipped into the pub to buy a bottle of wine. “ just a cheap bottle of white please mazerella, “ Lemonella asked “ dan wont know the difference so any old rubbish will do” Mazerella went into the back and retrieved a bottle of cambrini she was given free with a Chinese takeaway last night, “ here we go Lemonella, its only £3.50,” maz grinned, well anything to keep her supplied in babychams she thought. Lemonella paid up, and tottered out onto the cobbles towards Dans flat. Rebecca had just spotted the dead badger on the draining board… “ er, that’s not for tea is it” she looked doubtfull at the mangled insides spilling out into the sink. “ erm, no offence like but Jean Etta has got some tasty battered pork pies downstairs”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Meanwhile, back at Manchester piccililly station…… Guin De Vere let the handsome stranger guide her through the main concourse, believing they were heading for a train to London…. Not so.. Just as they both reached the entrance to the platform, the man, one hand gently resting on Guins elbow, suddenly changed direction, and guin found herself wlaking back the way she had just come, through the concourse and out through the main entrance to the station.. “ what are you doing?” Guin exclaimed “ I thought we were….” But Guin was cut off, the stranger put his index finger to his lips.. “ shhh” he mouthed quietly “ you mustn’t draw attention to yourself, you don’t know who could be lurking” Guin suddenly realized something, “ hold on” she said “ where’s your French accent gone?” “ oh that?” the man replied “ just a ruse… cant be bothered carrying it on now, too much bloody hard work” “ so where are you really from then?” Guin asked “ west ham” the man replied , smiling “ the namesGary, pleased to meet you” And with that, Gary gently pushed Guin towards a waiting jaguar, its engine running. Gary opened the rear passenger door for guin, and as she slipped inside she smelt the familiar aroma of Old Spice and mint Imperials… “ so you made it” a deep voice form next to her spoke, “ yes my dearest”, Guin smiled, “ but why so much secrecy this time?” Guin looked lovingly into the mans eyes “ its never bothered you so much before” The man turned round to her and took hold of Guins hand “ because my darling “ he started.. “ being John Prescott is a bloody nuisance sometimes, you know what them ruddy newspapers are like!” And with that the car sped towards the M6……….

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Guin woke with a start, her head quickly checking the smooth uncreased pillow lying next to her. “phew, “ she sighed, but as she did, she caught smell of a very whiffy nature…Glancing over at Mr Tibbles her very fat ginger cat.. who glared back indignantly, her nose then led her to look at her beside cabinet. There sat a plate of half eaten mature stilton. “ I knew I shouldn’t have had that ruddy cheese last night” Guin Moaned to herself “ I had the most horrendous nightmare, something about John Prescott and mint imperials” Guin sank back into the pillows and tried to piece togther what actually did happen last night. She could remember sitting with Susie Smithe in her wine bar, having a small sherry for dutch courage, but when Susie brought out the blue bucket, her mind became hazy.. Guin decided she better phone Susie to find out, but after ringing several times, to no answer, Guin gave up Susie must either be sleeping off a Lambrini induced coma or catching flies on a park bench somewhere… never mind, she would phone again later. But why the Dutch courage? And what on earth was Terina doing with that bicyle pump last night? Someone banging on the door downstairs shook Guin from her thoughts… she lept (well stumbled) out of bed, throwing on her dressing gown, and quickly went downstairs to the shop. Fumbling with the keys to the shop door , guin was about to give whoever was rapping loudly on theletter box short thrift, when she saw Steve mc Boffin standing outside on the pavement, holding Guins handbag in front of him.. “ what the….” Guin stated as she opened the door… “ Miss De vere..” Steve, said quickly, smiling “ you left your bag in my taxi last night, I didn’t realize til it was too late and you had already disappeared into the station by then” Guin, groaned loudly and, grabbing the bag she dashed back upstairs to her bedroom… “ oh Mr Tibbles… what HAVE I been up too this time?”

You promised me Johnny Depp or Cain Dingle *wails loudly*

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Ms Jilly Mc Mad, the local Justice keeper had, had a bad night, and she arrived at Gr courthouse in a foul temper. It was so bloomin hot, her wig was itchy and she had broken her anvil last night trying to put up a picture of Les Battersby in her downstairs toilet. Jilly shrugged on her robes in a huff and glanced at the days Lists… “oh great” she muttered “ that stupid Charlie Foxtrot delta whatisname is up first… spoil my day before it starts why don’t you” Jilly flounced out of her chambers and went to find some ice cubes. Meanwhile, sitting impatiently in the dock was a certain Butcher called Charlie Foxtrot Elliot, chunnering to himself quietly about the injustice of it all… All he had tried to do was blow a ruddy hedgehog up with a smidging of semtex… after all, he was doing the world a favour wasn’t he? Nasty little flea ridden vermin…. Why lemonella had to have one as a pet and flaunt the thing in his butchers.. outrageous it was! Charlie Foxtrot, glanced around the courtroom… “ eeh good turn out… I say.. good turnout” he said.. to nobody in particular Indeed the court was fairly packed with most of the residents of GRrrr Street… well anything for a laugh… But, where on earth was the prosecution star witness? Miss lemonella … Word had it that Lemonella had told off a troll of the Ethernet but instead of being applauded had been sent on an anti swearing course in Coventry for 2 months… Now that really WAS injustice! Anyway… Jilly Mc Mad… walked into the courtroom ( balancing a bag of icecubes under her wig) and sat down “ oh its too hot for all this milarky” she grumbled “ silence in court” Jilly shouted, “ and stop spraying that fly spray about Bouffant Babs, and no.. before you ask Gwendoline housemartin this isn’t a Chinese takeaway and you cant order number 461” With that, Jilly banged down a soup ladle ( she had brought in to replace the anvil) then shuffled her papers menacingly, that’s if you can shuffle papers menacingly. “ Enough” she bellowed , ignoring the fact nobody had yet spoken, “ Guilt as charged, I sentence you to…” The Defence barraster jumped up alarmed, “ your honour.. wait… you have not heard any evidence yet” Miss Anna Marple raised her head from the back of the courtroom, crunching a mint humbug, she put down her knitting and peered at Jilly mc Mad… was that sweat dribbling down Jilly’s head? Jilly muttered to herself and sat back in her chair.. “ damn, I was hoping they wouldn’t notice” “well get on with it “she moaned, Jilly could feel a small trickle of water sliding down her neck. The icecubes were melting far too quickly. To Be continued…….. ( because I cant find the rest of the chapter I wrote down… damn!) Charlie, had , had enough, he stood up and stared at Jilly Mc Mad… “ Now listen here Milady, you cant find me guilty of trying to blow up a hedgehog.. they aren’t protected you know… I say, they aren’t protected…” Jilly pursed her lips “ shut up Foxtrot” she scowled “ any more noise out of you and I will get my sausages from Tescos instead” Charlie sat back down quickly, he knew he was done for…