Monday, 7 November 2011

Monty Pythons Flying Physio Room

(Submission from Monty)

Wednesday 2 November……….Wharf Towers……..08:12am…………….Brody rolled over and reached for the packet, untethering a long slim menthol tip she expertly slid it into her Javan Rhino horn (genuine) cigarette holder, she used her other hand to locate her “dagger” lighter (she enjoyed its ironic symbolism) and lit the tip. Dragging the first lungful down she felt the first rush as her brain molecules exploded like fireworks. Pulling the sheet up under her arms, she rested her head back and considered the figure next to her…..she really needed to start avoiding these meetings.

The holes she dug were becoming deeper and she wasn’t getting any younger. As she tipped the first of the ash into the saucer on the bedside table, she noticed he hadn’t moved much since the climax……perhaps not so unusual as she often left her prey catching their breath she smirked to herself…..but no, somehow this was different.

She lowered the holder onto the lip of the saucer and slid down the bed, untying the leather straps…..Still no movement…..turning his head slightly to the side she saw his eyes were half cut……then his hand raced to his chest…..she dropped his head and shot her hand over her mouth, stifling her scream…..he twitched as he mouthed the words “Help me…..”

Brody shot off the bed and dressed herself in under 30 seconds (she was an expert and prided herself on this) dialling 999 at the same time, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder…..”Yes, ambulance, quick………..heart attack, I’m 99% sure……yes conscious…..apartment 327 Wharf Towers….Hurry, the doors open”….with that Brody clicked off.

Taking her handkerchief she expertly wiped her prints from the champagne flutes resting in the silver bucket next to the empty bottle of “Shipwrecked 1907 Heidsieck”. She practised the same routine for the bathroom taps and door handles….Scanning the room she knew there was something else…..Tapping her phone against her teeth she berated herself “Come on Brody….think….think!”…..then she saw it…..the dossier on Young Master Tomka…..a file she had carefully prepped for him, detailing his likes and dislikes, his favourite food, drink, holiday destination, contract length, current wage and bonus structure……he’d wanted everything as before like he had with Scottie, and she never disappointed.

“Yes!” she shrieked as she caught sight of the manila file under the coffee table, stuffing it in to the top of her bag. She took a final glance at the bed and saw he was still breathing. Kissing her hand she touched his forehead…”They’re on their way….I can’t stay… know that”…..and she was gone…….

Twitcher clutched his chest again but then heard the distant noise of sirens……..and fell asleep.

Allerdice was closing the door of his apartment in Wharf Towers….muttering to himself, still annoyed at the previous evening’s events…. “Ruddy boo me, never erd the lark of it….2nd in’t leeeg, carrying injurees n’all, appen we ad 19 shots on targit n all but no no no, not good enuff is it, oh no we demand ‘bleedin moon don’t we”……

Mrs A shook her head as she saw her husband leaving, she hated it when he got like this, muttering to himself and shaking his head, she hoped the new day would clear his mind. As Allerdice turned to make for the elevator, he was almost knocked off his feet by a woman in one hell of a hurry.

“Ruddy ell luv eezy duz it, wheres the fire?”…Brody heard those words as she retrieved herself off the floor and knew instantly the horror of her situation……her bag had been thrown from her shoulder and its contents, primarily THAT document was scattered on the floor….Young Master Tomka’s photo had floated down next to the fake pine tree pot outside Allerdice’s door. Tomka’s face glared up angelically like an X Factor contestant on the table of a Simone Cowell audition table. Allerdice helped his presumed maiden in distress to her feet, and as she swung a face full of hair back over her head, he couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Allo?....are ye alreet deer?.....what ya doin ere? Cum t gimme a ride in?!” Allerdice boomed…….Brody had just about regained her composure, but then heard the sirens in the background….”Erm, yes, er, quick meeting this morning, yes, er, erm, been ironing out a few winkles I mean details with the er Olimpic bid….yes that’s it, Borris just left before me, I was running after him as he had forgot his mobile”. Brody waved hers in front of Allerdice’s face as she scooped up the contents of her bag, “Oh reet, ya should brought him rownd, Mrs A just made Burritos for Breakfast, there were enuff furrall ovus!

Brody put her best false smile on, “Haha, really, oh well, never mind, maybe next time, listen must dash as have to do the school run, tata”. With that, Brody turned and sprinted down the stairs in bare feet, stilettos in hand. Allerdice pulled his trousers a little higher round his waist (the burritos were fighting back already) and rubbed his chin… “Blimey, Borris must love that phone”…..and went to the elevator door, pressing the “Underground Car park” button.

Hands in his pockets, his mind wandered back to the day’s events and plans. He realised he’d have to pick his troops up after the disappointment of last night. Mother Hen’s situation was growing more perplexing by the day. His phone call to the “Chumpionship POTM award board” would hopefully put him back on track, a spring in his step, but it was a gamble. The doors opened and Allerdice took his place next to the elderly lady from the floor above, her Shih Tzu puppy in her handbag. The soothing music in the elevator always put a smile on his face, but today even the music seemed to taunt him (as the fans had the previous evening)…. “Pass the dutchie on the left hand side” sung Musical Youth. Allerdice shuffled and his breathing quickened… “Well if they ‘adnt bleedin made sucha fuss abowt Misspent Yoof it woodnt be such a bloody problem would it!” he said out lou. The elderly lady gave him a worrying look as the dog barked. Allerdice realised his outburst, half smiled and stared out the elevator door as it began to close…….just before it shut he saw a photo on the floor…..of, was it?….yes, Young Master Tomka…….as Allerdice tried to work out why his photo would be laying outside his door, 3 paramedics rushed past……….

(Should the site carry further installments or leave Monty to the Org?)


Anonymous said...

Very funny

Anonymous said...

...leave it on the org - it's pretty laboured and unfunny, and full of tedious stereotyping. Less is more.

Anonymous said...

kevin in Manchester writes ..

oh give it another whirl.. whose the bloke with the dodgey ticker supposed to be ?

Sav said...

I enjoyed reading this, but if you think that many will go for it or even bother to read it... I don't think so...

the headmaster said...

I love Darren's posts but somehow they don't sit right for me on TGGC. Just an opinion, HF.

Hammersfan said...

Cheers for the comments guys.