Classic Canaries 10: Monsters, Disguises and other Nonsense.

He brings him to a colourful stall where he buys him a lolly

Clancy: “Blblblbp, there you are, prize juggins, lucky you, blblblblp, anyway important things to tell you, come closer!”

Buckle: “Ho imbortant things, how Barvellous!”

Clancy: “Blblblblbp, may not think so when I tell you, your brother has been taken over by a monster!”

Buckle: “A bonster!” Buckle’s face is captivated

Clancy: “Blblblbp yes, blblblbp terrible business! Monster looks like Bikle blblblbp, is trying to get his canary, so blblblp your brother won’t win the show!”

Buckle: “Dis is awful bister Turkey?! Does Bikle dow about it?!”

Clancy: “Blblblblp, unsure, monster may have taken him somewhere, been trying to help, searching for him blblblbp, but beware! If possible blblblblblp get the bird to safety!”

Buckle: “A bonster! Ibagid dat! I bust go and tell Bikle about dat!” and off he tries to hurry before the Turkey catches his arm

Clancy: “Blblblblp! Best not to, blblblbp, might be the monster instead, might eat you blblblbp, cousin Lawrence once eaten by large omnivore you know!”

Buckle: “Ho really?”

Clancy: “Blblp, dangerous business, best to stay away but bring bird to me if possible, blblblblp will see it gets to the show safely, replace it with this clockwork bird, blblblbp, monster won’t know the difference!”

Buckle: “But bister Turkey, Bi can’t get to de Bikle’s bird!”

Clancy: “Blblblblp, not as you are but blblblbp, a few adjustments…” and with a sudden whisk and whirr of his feathery appendages Buckle suddenly looks much more like his brother, indeed there is only now the more idiotic expression to tell them apart “Blbllblblbp! No time to lose, blblblbp, watch out for the monster, rescue the bird, if anyone asks, blblbp, say you’re Bikle.”

So Buckle hurries off with a clockwork canary and no real idea what he’s been asked to do, or much of a clue about any of it really, one feature though does persist in his enfeebled mind ‘Bikle’s been taken over by a monster’ and the cautionary tale of cousin Lawrence and the ‘large omnivore’.

Back near the tent, the emergency services have been called and various Johnsons are dragging the decapitated mechanically adjusted corpse of Piers Johnson out of the duck pond, whilst nearby Morris is surreptitiously speaking to monstrous pelican Johnson.

Morris:  “Right Johnson, so here’s the plan, I will cast a glamour over you so you look like old shit bean, you then go in the tent and get the bird by whatever means, anyone bothers you, you know what to do” Johnson mwaaerks thuggishly, then opens his enormous gullet wide and makes a swallowing motion, “That’s right Johnson, you’ve got it. Now off you pop.”

And so off pops MP Johnson who suddenly looks a facsimile of Bikle to all onlookers. Buckle wandered on with the clockwork bird twittering in his pocket, thinking it quite marvellous. Unsure now as to what he was supposed to be doing and bereft of his toy car and various sweets he decided to go and ask Bikle for more money for sweets. So after a small amount of confusion he found the bird registration tent where he had last seen his brother. Sure enough there was Bikle, perched on as many cushions as he could borrow, next to the cage of primrose princess.

Buckle: “Bikle! Bikle dere you are! Have I god dews for you!”

Bikle: “Ho god! What is it dow?! Wait a bobent what are you wearig?”

Buckle: “What do you bean?”

Bikle: “Your clothes Buckle, what are you wearig? Dis nice black cloak, pixie boots, sbart shirt, what is all dis?!”

Buckle: “I don’t dow what you bean Bikle, but forget about dat, did you dow you’ve been taken over by cousin Lawredce!”

Bikle: “What de fuck are you talkig about Buckle? Who is cousin Lawredce?”

Buckle: “He’s a large, berr subthig, he’s rather large yes dat’s it!”

Bikle: “By don’t dow about dat brother bine! I’b largest at de party rebember!”

Suddenly one of the officials comes over.

Antwerp: “Excuse me it is bird owners only in here I’m afraid!”

Bikle: “Yes Buckle you heard hop it!” but to Bikle’s dismay he realises that it is Mr Antwerp from the Lion’s Arms  who has changed shifts with Hornby is in fact talking to him

Antwerp: “I’m sorry mate, can you wait outside please?”

Bikle: “But I’b de bird owder! Pridcess Pribrose is bine!”

Buckle: “He’s a bonster really! You dow!” Buckle helpfully chimes in, “He’ll gobble you up, frif your dot careful!”

Antwerp, has had enough and weighing the scene between the smartly dressed fearful looking one and the distressed skanky looking one with the padded bottom, the choice seems clear.

Antwerp: “You out now!”

Bikle: “But by bird!”

Antwerp: “Out!”

Buckle: “Watch out bister Antwerp, don’t get too close!”

And so Bikle was removed from the registration tent whilst Buckle sat down to take his place.  Removed from the tent Bikle resolved to wait near the entrance so that at least he could see anyone coming and going and interfere with any nefarious happenings. From the opening of the tent, he could see Buckle and Buckle could see him. Buckle waved, but first Bikle looked angrily at him which made Buckle look terrified and hide behind the cage.

Bikle: “Ho god!” thought Bikle “By need a disguise…”He stands there pondering the matter, “Dow where cad I ged a disguise frob at such short dotice?” when his eyes fall on an adjacent stall: Cutler’s Novelties, Hours Of Fun Or Your Money Back!* A second asterisk heralds a disclaimer beginning “Well not your actual money back as such…” and continuing for several hundred words in small print. “Hbbb, I wonder, Bister Cutler, do you have ady fadcy dress costubes? I deed a disguise prodto!”

Mr Cutler: “Ooh eeeh? Want to change our appearance do we? Can’t say I’m surprised looking at you, not a handsome man really are you? Nature not been kind has she? And that outfit doesn’t help does it? Seen better days frankly, and even then not exactly what you’d call fashionable I’d of said, but only if pushed, still they say weshould be happy as god made us, although let’s be fair he must have been having an off day in your case eeh? Still suppose it can’t be helped, or rather it can, with a disguise perhaps?”

Bikle: “Berr yes yes a disguise, dat’s what I wadt!”

Mr Cutler: “Of course, of course, say no more, no really don’t say anything more, the mere sound of your voice sickens me. I mean certainly sir, and what kind of disguise would you be wanting? Something voluminous? Or not? Something daring? Risqué? Some hot pants and a disco wig perhaps? Really get people talking? Well I say talking, I mean throwing up and then hurling stones at you, and no bad thing if you ask me, not that you did, or had need to, but I stand by it, anyway what about a duck suit? No I don’t think you fit the bill.Fit the bill geddit? Ooh eeh good ‘ere innit? You’re tall and thin, I could dress you as a pencil? But then you wouldn’t see the point would you? So I suppose it’s not 2b. Good them weren’t they? Still this isn’t getting us anywhere is it? All joking aside, you are ugly, no no, let’s not get carried away, dog ugly. How about a bag for your head? Not as a disguise mind, thinking you might want to end it all, can’t say as I blame you in your shoes. Especially those shoes, so what about it then? Nice plastic bag, slow asphyxiation, not a bad way to go eeh? No? Prefer to drag out your disappointing and unsatisfying life a bit longer as a figure of mockery and ridicule? Your call chummy I suppose, now what was it you wanted again? How about one of thesenice jester’s hats? Got bells on it see? Jingle jingle? Add a bit of much needed fun to your dreary existence, also give parents a bit of warning, let ’em get their kids inside when they hear you approach, not that I’m saying you’re that way of course, far from it, but if the cap fits as they say, and there! Fits you like a glove, very mediaeval, call it a tenner?”

Bikle: “Do do do! I dod’t wadt a bloody jester’s hat, or ady of your dovelties! I wadt a disguise!”

Mr Cutler: “Oh a disguise is it? Up to no good are we? Can’t say it surprises me to be honest, well let me see, a disguise, a disguise, a disguise, what do we have for you that I won’t mind having to burn when you bring it back? Now now, be fair, couldn’t ask anybody else to pay good money for a costume that a wrong ‘un like you’s been wearing can I? What with the sour, mildewy, slightly faecal stench that seems to cling to your ungainly form eeh? Here it is, well I’ll be, if this isn’t the very thing! What do you think to that then sunshine?”

Bikle: “H’what’s dis? A shirt, black jeads, cloak ad pixie boots? But dat’s what I’b already wearing! Dat’s what I always wear!”

Mr Cutler: “That’s right, that’s the ‘Shit Bikle’ costume, been a surprisingly popular rental item lately, all things considered, funny the way things work out eh? That’ll be, oooh eeh, let’s just say whatever you’ve got in your pockets shall we?”

Bikle: “But dat’s dot a costube! Dat’s just by bloody clothes! Id fact, dey are actually by bloody clothes, you cad see de labels dat by bum sewed idto deb wid by dabe oddeb!”

Mr Cutler: leaning forward conspiratorially, “Now listen bumfluff, we can stand here all day arguing about this, more than happy to, but correct me if I’m wrong, you’re in a rush eeh? Every moment that you are away from your little yellow chum is fraught with peril eeh? Time is very much of the essence?”

Bikle: “Ho god yes, dod’t rebide be! By poor Pribrose Pridcess!”

Mr Cutler: “Exactly, alone,  unprotected, vulnerable… Normally just your sort of thing eh sick boy? But it’s different when it’s one of your own eeh? There she is, surrounded by ruthless, scheming rivals who wouldn’t flinch at canarycide in order to grab the top spot at this prestigious event, their fiendish machiavellian schemes weaving a web around her, yes a web, a web of DEATH! And what do you do about it? Nothing! You stand here, bandying words with me, arguing the toss about some old clothes, which I may or may not have stolen from your wardrobe, while that little ball of yellow fluff stands naked before the forces of evil!”

Bikle: “But but but Bister Cutler, I deed a disguise! Ad dose are just by clothes! I’d just look like be!” Cutler slams his fist down on the counter,

Mr Cutler: “Exactly! Exactly! And WHO IS THE LAST PERSON THAT THEY WOULD EXPECT YOU TO BE DISGUISED AS? Think man! Think!” Bikle’s eyes widen,

Bikle: “By god you’re right! Dat’s de last thig they’d be lookig for! Dat’s brilliadt!” He starts to strip off his clothes.

Mr Cutler: “Oooh eeh, not so fast sonny, aren’t we forgetting something?”

Bikle: “Ho of course! Dere! Dat’s all by bodey!”

Mr Cutler: “Thank you kindly, now go! Savethat poor canary!”

Hopping on one leg as he tries to put on an identical pixie boot to the one which he has just taken off, Bikle nods vigourously,

Bikle: “Ho I will, I will, thagk you Bister Cutler, thagk you! Hag od Pribrose Pridcess! Daddy’s cobig!”

Cutler watches him rush back to the registration tent and gathers up his discarded garments. He takes a long contemplative draw on his cigar before turning to a small brown creature perched on the till. “You know Coco old lad, in my game you don’t half meet some right tommy danglers, but that one there, that one is without doubt the biggest bloody idiot that I have ever encountered.” He turns and beams welcomingly at the next customer.

Mr Cutler: “Yes sir, and what can I do for you?”

Leonard: “Ah, ah would lak a Sheet Beekle costumesilvous plait M’sieur Cutlair!”

Meanwhile, Bikle bursts into the registrations tent at the same moment as MP Johnson. Buckle looks up, pleased.

Buckle: “Ho Bikles! Ab I glad to see you! Buncle Lauredce told be dat you’d beed rud over by a large obdibus!”

Antwerp is up again like a shot,

Antwerp: “Right!” he begins “Both of you, out!” but this latter part is lessened by the fact he clearly cannot tell who is the real Bikle, as the glamoured monstrous pelican Johnson looks of course identical in the minds eye and the real Bikle’s attire is now less shabby and more like that of Buckle. Antwerp does not have to worry about the matter long though as MP Johnson turns to him and with an action utterly incomprehensible to the glamoured eye makes him disappear with a muffled scream. Bikle and Buckle look at each other as the other Bikle turns a menacing eye upon them.

Buckle: “Yikes! A bonster! Just like de turkey said!”

Bikle: “By god you’re right Buckle, dere’s subthig dot right about dat fellow!”

In his fearsome flapping though Buckle now drops the clockwork bird out of his pocket (as of course he has utterly failed to remember the swapping instruction). The mechanical marvel twitters and hops in an impressive but not entirely realistic manner, however to poor Johnson’s impoverished notion of his aim, this appears his quarry. With a hearty shove, this other silent Bikle dispatches Buckle, who crashes straight into his brother and scoops up the mechanical canary before quickly disappearing out of the tent entrance from which he has come.

“Bohhhh!” goes the brothers, collectively as they land in a heap, with one of them positioned unfortunately to the rear of the other, all cloaks, hair and pixie boots, they huff and shout as they try to untangle themselves at which point Hornby returns and looks with disgusted dismay at the scene

Hornby: “Hmmph, this is not really appropriate behaviour for the birdshow Mr Bikle you know!”

Bikle: “H’what, I was just trying to get by brother off!”

At this comment Hornby appears even more revulsed.

Hornby: “I don’t care what you two get up to  in that flat of yours, but you should leave those antics at home, this is a family show!” At which point Buckle helpfully says

Buckle: “Bikle just gobbled bister Antwerp up you dow!”

Hornby looks at Bikle.

Honby: “And where is Antwerp now?”

Realising that to say he’s been mysteriously disappeared by a clone of himself is hopeless, he says the only thing he can think of.

Bikle: “he’s berr, gone to de toilet, yes dat’s right!”

Hornby now looks even more disgusted than previously as if his bathroom visitation is sordidly tied to the whole tale, but leaves the matter there

Hornby: “Right well I suppose I shall have to keep watch until he returns, I shall have to ask your brother to leave  though.” and turning to the correct sibling he gestures to the exit.

Bikle gives him some more coins and off Buckle goes, all the while issuing warnings about monsters and cousin Lawrence. Bikle settles himself back down next to primrose princess and has chance to review the matter. What was the mechanical bird that the other Bikle took away? Who was the other Bikle? Disturbed by the events but unable to fathom them in any kind of meaningful way he gives up and simpers over his canary some more. Suddenly there is a bustling noise and who should come in but Clancy, replete with cage, which he takes to the registration desk.

Hornby: “Ah Clancy, good to see you, I’m so sorry about Piers, he was a good friend of yours was he not?!”

Clancy: “Blblbllblbp yes, terrible tragedy, head blown clean off, never recovered from scaffolding incident properly, however bequeathed large collection of antique trousers blblblblblblp!”

Hornby: “Mm yes errm that must be nice… for you, do you have a bird to register?”

Clancy: “Bllblblbllbp certainly do, particular beauty, sure to win blblbp!”

Hornby: “Oho well I don’t know about that, I’m sure there’ll be some stiff competition” but then is sickened by his own words thinking of the compromising position he found SB brothers in upon entering the tent, he coughs to displace the discomfort “name please?”

Clancy: “Prince Primrose! blblblp!”

Hornby: “Really?!” The Turkey eyes him in a watch it sonny type way “it’s just we already have a Primrose Princess ”

Clancy: “Really!?” he repeats with deep perfect tones, to show how it is done “Blblblp coincidence, blblbp stranger things have happened, blbblblp like for instance, blblblbp mouse in your ear!”

And whilst Hornby struggles to remove the scrabbling mouse, Clancy takes up a seat near Bikle and places his covered cage down on a pedestal adjacent to ‘primrose princess’.




Published in: on March 11, 2016 at 4:54 pm  Leave a Comment  

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