F
Frantic
Guest
Warning:- Black Humour, please do not read if sensitive
The man from the Prudential
It was Saturday night in the BartonÂ’s Arms, the usual crowd were there,
Stuffing their gobs with cockles and crisps. And gallons of M&B beer.
The Jazz band was playing upstairs as usual, ‘I bet those beatnicks all stink’,
‘Bloody row is what I reckon it is, I can’t hear me bloomin’ self think!’
I was there to drown my sorrows you see, for a life that is miserable thus far,
If it wasnÂ’t it wasnÂ’t for my hands resting under my chin, my face would go SMACK on the bar.
It was then that my best mate Phil came in with his ‘Crevat’ and his ‘Brylcream’d ‘ dome,
He took one look at me and said “What a mess, you’d better get yerself ‘ome”
“What’s up then”? he said, as he ordered a pint and I burped on the last of my pie,
So I looked at him straight and said “You’re supposed to be my mate” : and poked my finger in his eye.
“OUCH!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR”, I said “Sorry Phil. I thought you were that toe-rag Joey. But you deserved it any way, ‘cause when we was kids, you pinched all the wheels off me goey”
“Didn’t think you knew”, he said with a grin, “Anyway, what’s this thing about Joey”?
“He’s run off with me wife, the miserable dog”
“You mean him and your misses, Cloe”?
“I came home from work and the kids all said “Hey dad, what are we going to do?.
Mom’s packed her bags and emptied the tin, and she’s run off with the man from the “Pru”.
“I’ll kill em”, I said as I stormed out the house, “They’ll know when their day has come”. So I started to search all the places they’d go in this glorious city of Brum.
I found them in Lewis’s and chased them to the top, she stood on a ledge and said “I’ll do it !!........you’ve had your chance, now it’s Chloe & Joey. It’s your fault. You’ve driven me to it.”
I didn’t say “Don’t”, didn’t try to interfere, I was too upset you see, then she slipped and fell from the ledge….. to the street…………..because of the gravity.
So I turned on Joey and said with a sneer, “This is your fault you mongrel, you’ve bought it to this, you and your insurance policy”.
“Well I’m cashing it in now , and maybe yours too, just you wait and see”.
“I know what’s been going on these past years, after my accident I could no longer “Serve” it, then you came along with your cravat and silver tongue……..well…..for five bob a week it was worth it”.
Down in the street, as to be expected, a very large crowd was forming,
And a pavement artist was heard to exclaim “Look what she’s done to me drawin”!
I wandered alone through the streets I call ‘Home’, not crying, not feeling, barely coping, I looked at my watch and thought to myself,
“Oh……by now the Barton’s will be open”.
IÂ’m sure IÂ’ll get over it in a couple of days and thereÂ’s my job at the H.P of course,
Then my mind retuned to that violent pavement scene and thoughtÂ…Â….
“What a waste of all that sauce”.
Then the doors flew open and there he stood, that Nechelite scum Joey Robinson,
With his red hair plastered down with ‘Brilliantine’, he looked like a Belisha beacon’s son.
“The Barton’s isn’t for the likes of you…..you caniving Nechelite malcontent”.
He said “It aint your pub, I can go where I like, fill a form in and take out a patent”.
“Let’s let bygones be bygones and I’ll buy you some beer, let’s put this behind us forever.
“I’ll buy till you’re drunk, which shouldn’t take long, ‘cause you’re already under the weather”.
But I had developed a plan, so I drank and drank, to see how many rounds he would buy
And when I was just about to collapse, I looked at him and spat in his eye.
That was not nice old pal, old chum, I meanÂ…Â…look how many rounds I got in.
So I opened my coat, and pulled out a gun, and there in cold blood, I shot him.
Well how was I to know, it was a starting pistol, that I’d bought for a fiver down Newtown Row. But it made a nice bang as the Jazz band sang, Kenny Ball’s ‘Midnight in Moscow’.
So I sit here, old and frail, in Winson Green Jail, convicted of attempted murder.
“Now what did I do with that short bit of rope, I’m off to find me a girder.
The man from the Prudential
It was Saturday night in the BartonÂ’s Arms, the usual crowd were there,
Stuffing their gobs with cockles and crisps. And gallons of M&B beer.
The Jazz band was playing upstairs as usual, ‘I bet those beatnicks all stink’,
‘Bloody row is what I reckon it is, I can’t hear me bloomin’ self think!’
I was there to drown my sorrows you see, for a life that is miserable thus far,
If it wasnÂ’t it wasnÂ’t for my hands resting under my chin, my face would go SMACK on the bar.
It was then that my best mate Phil came in with his ‘Crevat’ and his ‘Brylcream’d ‘ dome,
He took one look at me and said “What a mess, you’d better get yerself ‘ome”
“What’s up then”? he said, as he ordered a pint and I burped on the last of my pie,
So I looked at him straight and said “You’re supposed to be my mate” : and poked my finger in his eye.
“OUCH!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR”, I said “Sorry Phil. I thought you were that toe-rag Joey. But you deserved it any way, ‘cause when we was kids, you pinched all the wheels off me goey”
“Didn’t think you knew”, he said with a grin, “Anyway, what’s this thing about Joey”?
“He’s run off with me wife, the miserable dog”
“You mean him and your misses, Cloe”?
“I came home from work and the kids all said “Hey dad, what are we going to do?.
Mom’s packed her bags and emptied the tin, and she’s run off with the man from the “Pru”.
“I’ll kill em”, I said as I stormed out the house, “They’ll know when their day has come”. So I started to search all the places they’d go in this glorious city of Brum.
I found them in Lewis’s and chased them to the top, she stood on a ledge and said “I’ll do it !!........you’ve had your chance, now it’s Chloe & Joey. It’s your fault. You’ve driven me to it.”
I didn’t say “Don’t”, didn’t try to interfere, I was too upset you see, then she slipped and fell from the ledge….. to the street…………..because of the gravity.
So I turned on Joey and said with a sneer, “This is your fault you mongrel, you’ve bought it to this, you and your insurance policy”.
“Well I’m cashing it in now , and maybe yours too, just you wait and see”.
“I know what’s been going on these past years, after my accident I could no longer “Serve” it, then you came along with your cravat and silver tongue……..well…..for five bob a week it was worth it”.
Down in the street, as to be expected, a very large crowd was forming,
And a pavement artist was heard to exclaim “Look what she’s done to me drawin”!
I wandered alone through the streets I call ‘Home’, not crying, not feeling, barely coping, I looked at my watch and thought to myself,
“Oh……by now the Barton’s will be open”.
IÂ’m sure IÂ’ll get over it in a couple of days and thereÂ’s my job at the H.P of course,
Then my mind retuned to that violent pavement scene and thoughtÂ…Â….
“What a waste of all that sauce”.
Then the doors flew open and there he stood, that Nechelite scum Joey Robinson,
With his red hair plastered down with ‘Brilliantine’, he looked like a Belisha beacon’s son.
“The Barton’s isn’t for the likes of you…..you caniving Nechelite malcontent”.
He said “It aint your pub, I can go where I like, fill a form in and take out a patent”.
“Let’s let bygones be bygones and I’ll buy you some beer, let’s put this behind us forever.
“I’ll buy till you’re drunk, which shouldn’t take long, ‘cause you’re already under the weather”.
But I had developed a plan, so I drank and drank, to see how many rounds he would buy
And when I was just about to collapse, I looked at him and spat in his eye.
That was not nice old pal, old chum, I meanÂ…Â…look how many rounds I got in.
So I opened my coat, and pulled out a gun, and there in cold blood, I shot him.
Well how was I to know, it was a starting pistol, that I’d bought for a fiver down Newtown Row. But it made a nice bang as the Jazz band sang, Kenny Ball’s ‘Midnight in Moscow’.
So I sit here, old and frail, in Winson Green Jail, convicted of attempted murder.
“Now what did I do with that short bit of rope, I’m off to find me a girder.