The Classic Canaries 1: Bikle’s Barvellous Morning.

Bikle is sat at his mahogany desk, tapping away cheerfully at his state of the art computer, when a lovely blonde pops her head around the door.

Girl:                        “French bread pizza for dinner darling? It’s Findus.”

Bikle:                     “Ho is it indeed you little binx! Den it’ll be fun to eat, a bit like you! O,O.O.”

The blonde laughs delightedly and returns to the kitchen. Gradually Bikle becomes aware of a faint series of noises. First a soft rubbery sucking sound, then a voice saying. “Barvellous!” then a quiet slamming noise. This goes on and on until he can no longer concentrate on the screen. Vwwuk. “Barvellous!” Slam. Vwwuk. “Barvellous!” Slam. Vwuuk. “Barvellous!” Slam. Vwwuk. “Barvellous!” Slam.

Bikle:                     “What IS dat doise? Ad why is it suddedly so cold id here?”

Irritably he turns back to…the computer, only for it to start emitting a regular beeping noise.

Bikle:                     “Ho why dat souds a bit like by alarb clock!”

As the beeping grows louder and more insistent, the awful truth begins to dawn on him. The smart flat, the sexy blonde, the expensive computer…

Bikle:                     “Ho I dod’t wadt to wake up, I bust keep dreabig!” he shouts, only to find himself sitting bolt upright in his sagging, stained single bed.

The daylight is streaming through the holes in the tattered black curtains. His dream flat has vanished, and been replaced by the everyday benefits funded squalor of his mundane reality.

Bikle:                     “Ho bollocks! Sdill alive and in dis shithole. Ho well.”

He switches off his alarm and, swinging his long legs off the bed, begins to dress himself. Strangely he can still hear the odd sequence of noises. Vwwuk. “Barvellous!” Slam. Vwwuk. “Barvellous!” Slam. Upon reflection, it seems to be emanating from the kitchen/living room.

Bikle:                     “H’what de dickids cad dat doise be?” he wonders aloud.

Pulling on his pixie boots he walks through into the other room. His brother is kneeling down in front of the rusty under the counter fridge.

Buckle:                 “Ho Bordig Bikle. Have you seed dis? You oped dis door, (Vwwuk) ad idside, dere’s cheese! Barvellous! Den you shut it, (Slam) and oped it (Vwwuk) ad dere’s cheese! Barvellous!”

Bikle:                     “Ho by god! Buckle you bastard, you woke be up wid dis dodsedse! And I was havig a bagdificedt dreab!”

Buckle:                 “Ho, was I id it Bikle?”

Bikle:                     “Dot likely! Ho well, dow I’b up I bight as well feed by beloved cadaries.”

Buckle:                 “You do love dose cadaries dod’t you Bikle?”

Bikle:                     “Dot half! Dere de odly bright sbot id by bonstrously biserable bexistadce. What I’d do widout dere adorable little faces I dod’t dare to think!”

Buckle:                 “Dod’t forget about be big brother, I’b dot goig adywhere! I’b goig to stay wid you forever!”

Bikle:                     Choking back a sob. “Dod’t you ever say dat! Dow, let’s take a look at by little treasures.”

To be continued

Published in: on September 18, 2015 at 11:27 am  Leave a Comment  

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