Thread: Act Your Age.

Give him a break ! It's still building up. I just hope it doesn't end with a horrid pun.

Originally Posted by Sir Wilson

Why is this in Jokes ?

Because there is no section for posters to add short stories.

Originally Posted by blue

Originally Posted by Sir Wilson

Why is this in Jokes ?

Because there is no section for posters to add short stories.

For good reason obviously.

Is it possible that words, mere words, can evoke such comments? Or are they not words at all, but chalices and Holy grails, of human passion, full of the life-blood, staining the lips that approach them scarlet, of heart-drained pulse-wearied ravishment?

^ I have prevailed upon myself to read that line thrice, and, though it vexes me to admit such, I have no frigging clue what you're on about.

Originally Posted by MANICHAEAN

Is it possible that words, mere words, can evoke such comments? Or are they not words at all, but chalices and Holy grails, of human passion, full of the life-blood, staining the lips that approach them scarlet, of heart-drained pulse-wearied ravishment?

Nope they are words. Trite, cliched and tedious. But deffo words.

Originally Posted by MANICHAEAN

Is it possible that words, mere words, can evoke such comments? Or are they not words at all, but chalices and Holy grails, of human passion, full of the life-blood, staining the lips that approach them scarlet, of heart-drained pulse-wearied ravishment?

Alai na krap!

Originally Posted by MANICHAEAN

Is it possible that words, mere words, can evoke such comments? Or are they not words at all, but chalices and Holy grails, of human passion, full of the life-blood, staining the lips that approach them scarlet, of heart-drained pulse-wearied ravishment?

Alai na krap!

PART 6: BRITISH JUSTICE.

The Magistrate informed the Clerk of the Court to schedule the drunken driving case first, as in his experience it could be dealt with quickly and thus one could move on more expediently to other matters.

Albert took the stand, stated his name and the charge was read out; “That on the 25th June 2010, at 1pm he had been stopped on the B437 outside Horseheath, been breathalyzed by the Police and was subsequently found to be over the legal limit.”

The Magistrate leaned quickly forward in his chair, his arms resting purposefully on the table in front of him and addressed Albert.

“Anything to say on the matter?”

Albert stood ramrod straight, thumbs at the side creases of his trousers, chest out, chin in, looking straight ahead.

“No M’Lud. Guilty as charged.”

There is an old saying that “You can take a man out of the military, but you can never take the military out of the man.” There is thus, an unspoken bond that transcends class and circumstance when two such individuals meet. The Magistrate viewed the bearing of the man in front of him, noted the sharp, clear reply and was intrigued.

“Where did you learn to drive Mr. Higgs?”

“In the British Army M’Lud.”

“You were in the Army? Which regiment?”

“The Royal Ulster Rifles, Sir.”

“Um, I was in the Guards myself” said the Magistrate.

“The Blues.”

“See any action?”

“Yes Sir” replied Albert “Korea”

“Good man” said the Magistrate warming to him by instinct. “One hell of a show, I believe?”

“Bloody cold Sir. A bit hairy when those bugles sounded and all those waves of Chinese were attacking. But you have to stand your ground.”

From then on, in that particular courtroom, on that particular day, the entire judicial processes of the English Legal System commenced to unwind, as both individuals passed effortlessly from military reminiscences, to how the youth of today would benefit from a good haircut and the delights of boot camp.

The Clerk of the Court sighed. The Police apprehending officer for the case moved from foot to foot, his evidence uncalled for and ignored.

The Clerk motioned to the Magistrate that time was proceeding. In fact the accused and the accuser had lost touch with eternity.

“Umm right” said the Magistrate, being disagreeably called back into his official capacity, from what was a most delightful conversation.

“I’ve reviewed this case and after closely questioning the accused, I’m of the opinion that Mr. Higgs is of good character and was foolish enough to have involuntarily made an error of judgment.”

He looked at the Clerk and said “Any previous convictions? Speeding, alcohol related?”

“No Sir” replied the Clerk, “Nothing on record.”

“Case dismissed, and I don’t want to see you in front of me again in this court. Do you understand Mr. Higgs?”

“Yes Sir. My apologies for the trouble I’ve caused.”

Albert saluted. The Magistrate nodded. Albert turned on his heel and left the Courtroom.

By the door, the Police Patrol Constable moved in close against Albert and murmured out of the corner of his mouth, “Proper little one man crime wave you’re becoming Higgs. We’ll be keeping an eye out for you.”

“Thanks Officer” said Albert, “Fancy a lift back to the station?”

In its original sense, a shaggy dog story is an extremely long-winded tale featuring extensive narration of typically irrelevant incidents, usually resulting in a pointless or absurd punchline. These stories are a special case of yarns, coming from the long tradition of campfire yarns.
Shaggy dog stories play upon the audience's preconceptions of the art of joke telling. The audience listens to the story with certain expectations, which are either simply not met or met in some entirely unexpected manner.

I'll read chapters 5 and 6 in their entirety tomorrow but I'm really rather hoping that old Albert ends up in the slammer with a large negro who goes by 'Tyrone' and has a penchant for buggering, pyschopathic elderly gentlemen. Initially I was endeared to Albert but he's quickly turning out to be an arsehead.

Two weeks ago 99% of comments were pure banalities.

Now there are considered responses. That is good.

By now you most probably have ascertained that I have the skin of a rhino.

Weeping into my pillow? Forget it.

Your comments I take on board & thank you for contributing.

Warm regards
M.

PART 7: THE END.

Ten years passed and Albert still got up to his usual mischief, but although he became frailer, his worldly sins seemed to lie lightly upon him. This was a product of his personal outlook. Being a Catholic, he attended Mass weekly at St John’s on Hillcrest, but Farther Mark could never quite tie him strictly to the rigid tenets of the Faith.

He asked him once at confession, “Do you repent for your sins?”

“Oh no Father” Albert replied honestly.

“But you really should my Son, if you want to be reconciled to God.”

“I don’t see it that way Father.”

“I don’t understand my son. How do you see it?”

“Well it’s like this Father. Its ok for men like you, men of the cloth like. But for blokes like me, there is a difference between what God commands, and what he allows. He’s all powerful anyway and knows our frailties. Do you know what I mean?”

The priest sighed, his head bowed in formal supplication, for by now he understood intimately the nature of the man behind the other side of the wire screen connecting window.

Over the years he had used Albert & his BMW to help visit the poor and to ostensibly take the lonely and housebound of the parish on rides out into the surrounding country. He knew of the bags of carrots and tomatoes that he distributed from his allotments, and the sheaves of bank notes quietly slipped in between the veg. Sometimes he went over the top and took old boys from the sheltered housing unit out for one too many pints at the Horseshoe Pub. The local Police like Archangels in blue, always followed discreetly to see less he dashed his feet and those he succored against stones.

As the years advanced, Albert’s body and some of his faculties declined, but the spirit was unquenchable. The two boys down the road had been jointly given ownership of the BMW, thus improving significantly their pulling power as they attained manhood with the local girls. But they were always available when Albert determined to go forth on one of his local missions and forays.

Take care less you find yourself in the company of angels, and throughout the community of that small town they recognized the goodness that emanated from the man, and they accepted him into their homes and their hearts as one of their own. Father Mark guided the spiritual side of his journey as best he could, and in his devotions, before retiring each evening thanked the Eternal Father for his servant’s existence.

Albert reached 98 years of age, one late October and passed away peaceably in an old people’s home where he had been consistently doted on by staff and friends. Nothing had been too much for those whose hearts he had touched.

Just prior to his passing away, the two boys, (or grown men as they were now), lightly held both hands at the side of the bed after a long night’s vigil.

Albert saw his Dad walk into the room.

“Come on son. Playtime’s finished. Let’s go and meet the big fella.”

Albert was buried in the community cemetery south of Hatfield, and the coffin itself was specially built in the shape of a BMW 7 Series. A police car from South Herts Headquarters slowly led the procession its blue light slowly revolving. Some wag, said it was to stop Albert from breaking the speed limit on his way to the grave.

A week later when his last will & testament was read, it contained a few surprises. The rented flat had been returned back to the Council and the car had legally been given to the two boys 10 years back. Thus it was not part of his estate. But then it was revealed that the total balance in his bank account was the grand sum of five pounds and ten pence. It also transpired that there was a cheque written and signed the week before his death, in a shaky but acceptable handwriting to the Inland Revenue and it bounced!

Albert sat on a cloud above the town with his father and viewed the proceedings.

“What you reckon Dad?”

“Timed to perfection son, timed to perfection!”

A satisfying and just ending to both story and character; neither a bang nor a whimper.

You did misplace a couple of commas though........"South Herts Headquarters slowly led the procession its blue light slowly revolving. Some wag, said it was to stop Albert from breaking the speed limit on his way to the grave."
Should read:
"South Herts Headquarters slowly led the procession, its blue light slowly revolving. Some wag said it was to stop Albert from breaking the speed limit on his way to the grave.