A friend in deed
This one is a bit tongue in cheek, but what the hell...
Bar-room Orinda the 3rd and heir apparent to the Boom-Boom fortune that had already been spent on Christmas booze held his inspirational crutch close to his chest and dashed off to the polling station where he used it to press the button for war and set in motion the killing and terror he was convinced would stop the killing and terror.
Of course if he would think for himself he wouldn’t be watching TV and reading the newspapers that told him what and how to think in the first place.
When he got home he watched on TV the result of his actions as the war planes dropped bombs and killed the enemy so the newsman said and so was believed without a doubt or second thought.
Of course, the austerity measures weren’t applicable to the government who gave themselves millions in bonuses and had a new jet worth millions to swan around in and heaven help us all if peace and prosperity became a national pastime, we’d all be out of business.
Mega bus Charlie who always had a saucepan on the boil and was half way to the grave already was lying in bed through lack of funds to celebrate Christmas and was drifting in and out of sleep and reluctant to wake up to boot; and if the world was afoot with things to do he was not available.
So while Charlie lay in bed the world carried on without him and was no better or worse a place for it which was neither a here nor there kind of thing in the great scheme of things but the words fill half the page and seem like something to say so they are put down here for all to see and doesn’t have much to say about Charlie’s dreams.
The only thing that could be said is that Charlie didn’t wear religion, own a TV that spied on him, read newspapers or drink beer, but quite why that is so important to say is anyone’s guess. Anyway, moving on now...
When the front wall fell down, blown-up by some unmentionable idiots who were causing trouble again and Charlie was exposed in his dusty bed for the entire world to see, well, that’s news, right?
‘Terror victim survives; stays in bed to sleep,’ said the headline in the newspapers that Charlie never read.
Crowds came and stood outside to see Charlie sleeping and reporters took photos to report the progress.
After some weeks of this when all had calmed, Charlie’s story was relegated to the back page and then every day after would slip back a page until his story was but a by-line in some shop window somewhere. And then everyone forgot about Charlie and he could sleep in peace again.
When Bar-room Orinda the 3rd read about Charlie’s plight he decided to go round and see him and take a bottle of milk, a sandwich and a packet of fags for Charlie to smoke and seeing as there was no door to knock on walked right into Charlie’s bedroom. And called out: “Hello?”
Charlie’s snoring suddenly stopped and turning over he called out: “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Orinda, your neighbour.”
“I’m indisposed,” said Charlie and was about to turn back over to sleep again when the milk, sandwich and fags landed on the bed.
“What’s this?” asked Charlie looking up.
“Breakfast,” said Orinda with a grin.
“For me?” said Charlie perking up.
“Cheese and pickle; I hope that’s ok?” said Orinda expectantly.
“Perfect,” said Charlie and picked up the sandwich and took a bite.
“I see you’ve been affected by the austerity measures,” said Orinda looking out into the street through the wall that wasn’t there anymore.
“Could be worse,” said Charlie through a mouthful of cheese and pickle.
“Look, come and stay with me, I’ve got a spare room you can have and there’s always plenty of sandwiches and a pot of water’s always on the boil for tea whenever you want one. What do you say?” said Orinda to Charlie.
“How much will it cost me?” asked Charlie finishing the sandwich.
“Put a quarter in the meter once a week and we’ll call it quits, OK?” said Orinda walking over to Charlie in his bed and holding out his hand to shake.
“Deal,” said Charlie and took his hand.
So Charlie moved into Orinda’s house and just in time too, for the council came along just as Charlie was leaving his home and condemned it and said it was to be pulled down the very next day, and although this was of some concern to Charlie to lose his house that was not insured, still and all what can you do, that’s modern living for you.
“Charlie?”
“That’s me.”
“What’s the price of a dollar these days?”
“Terror.”
“Boom-boom.”
“What do terrorists eat for breakfast?”
“Lobster and chips?”
“No.”
“Cemtex?”
“Boom-boom.”
“I’ve got another one.”
“Does it go boom-boom?”
“Boom-boom.”
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Here's hoping that ultimately we are moving into a more balanced world..at least that's what I'm holding space and hope for. Love you BeautyFull 💖💖🙏
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There is a huge amount of doom and gloom everywhere, but I feel it is coming to the fore to be known and replaced with something better...
I agree 👍👍💪💪💖💖🙏
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Nice job. People don't use the word "fag" any more unless their using it as an epithet. As usual, great work of imagination.
Pop out for a quick fag... I say: pop out for a smoke...
A smoke, a drag, a fag ... it all means the same. Pump your lungs with tar and nicotine.