Classic Canaries 13: Idiot Outfit Exchange and Other Nonsense.

The reception committee gather round the vehicle expectantly, the door opens, and a by now very familiar figure steps out. This Bikle is dressed in a stylish Italian suit, marred somewhat by the fact that it is partnered with clogs, a matador’s cape and a spiked Kaiser Wilhelm era German helmet. In addition, he is carrying a baguette, some Swiss cheese and an alpenhorn.

Euro Bikle: “Bodjour, guted tag, buedas dias, boudgiordo ad dzied dobry to you bird fadciers ode ad all! Euro Bikle est arriveé!” There is a smattering of applause, led by Haverstock, who is waving some tulips and a pair of castanets. EB, nods and waves graciously. “Dadke schöd beid liebligs! Dow, let’s see dese feathery abigos of yours, muy prodto!”

Haverstock: (jumping up and down excitedly) “Euro Bikle! Euro Bikle! Go on! Say it!”

Euro Bikle: “Err say what exactly senor?”

Haverstock: “Your catchphrase! Go on! Do the catchphrase!”

Euro Bikle: (looking embarrassed)”Oh dear. Didn’t by badager have dis codversatiod wid you over de telephode? Oh dearie be, dat is bost udfortudate. I’b afraid dat I dod’t do dat catchphrase ady bore. I bead, cobe od, dat was twedty odd years ago! Dis is de twedty first cedtury, you cad’t go around de place talkig about “cripplig bitches!” dat’s bunbelievably bidappropriate! Bisogydistic dodsedse! I’b ashabed of byself as it is, let alode carryig od like dat dow, I’b a reforbed character you dow!”

Haverstock: (looks crestfallen) “But, but…”

Euro Bikle: “Do, do. I’b sorry, but it’s off de agenda. Besides, dis is a fabily evedt surely?”

Haverstock: “Well, er yes. I suppose.”

Euro Bikle”Well ded, let’s hear do bore about it. Where’s dese prize birds ded? I’b quite de keed abateur ordithologist you dow!”

Feeling somewhat chastened and obscurely ashamed of themselves, the committee members lead their guest off in rather a subdued fashion. As they pass through the event a couple of them notice that knots and groups of lairy, drunken Johnsons are becoming both more prevalent, and more rowdy. Big Chief Thompson has so far entered into the spirit of things that he has deigned to have a go on the “Aunt Sally” stall. The sight of their rivals’ leader sticking his head through a hole in a board decorated with a painting of a stout lady in a bathing costume and having wet sponges flung at him by his followers is just too much for the Johnsons,a group of whom gather round and begin jeering and hooting abusively at him. Soon enough, the damp sponges are supplemented by a hail of half eaten baked potatoes and empty beer bottles hurled by the rambunctious birdmen. Big Chief Thompson comes out from behind the Aunt Sally to remonstrate with them, but immediately finds himself surrounded by a ring of intimidating, truculent figures who begin shoving him around the center of the circle and mocking him. One or two Thompsons make an attempt to break through the ring and rescue him, but the mild mannered parrot / penguin combinations are no match for the burly, tanked up Johnsons. Eventually, provoked beyond endurance, Big Chief Thompson shoves one of his tormentors back. Unfortunately for him, he picksYou Wouldn’t Want To Meet Him Down A Dark Alley Johnson to push, and is swiftly rendered hors d’combat by an expertly thrown right to the beak. The rest of the Johnsons begin cheering and jumping up and down, their predatory racial instincts by now thoroughly roused. Hornby, still engaged on his thus far fruitless search for trouble, observes the fracas and hurries to intervene. As he does so, he stumbles over a grotesque figure, and nearly falls. Clutching Hornby’s legs the figure drags itself upright. To his shock he recognises it as being the missing Antwerp. The normally neat and businesslike publican is pale and wild eyed, scorched at the extremities, and lightly coated in semi digested tuna and potato.

Hornby: “Antwerp? Where the hell have you been?”

Antwerp: Seizing Hornby by the shoulders and staring him in the eyes. “If this is your village bird show, no, if this is your village, then you can keep it mate. You can have it. In fact, you can shove it right up your arse. Chuffed I was, being new here, oh come and be on the committee for the bird show! Antwerp, I says to myself, these kind people have accepted you, taken you, as it were, to their bosom. Touched I was, and proud. Nobody however mentioned the getting swallowed alive by a giant man / goose / penguin / pelican combination and then regurgitated by said abomination as it is engulfed in a pillar of unearthly fire did they though? So, to reiterate, you sunshine, can stuff your bird show, your committee, your cursed village of insanity and sudden violent death, I’m getting my wife and kids and getting out of here!”

With that, he breaks free of Hornby’s grasp and hares off through the crowd as fast as his legs will carry him, leaving his erstwhile committee colleague staring after him in amazement. Walking past this scene, munching on a bag of toffees, and oblivious to it all, is Buckle. One thing which does catch his eye however, is the Comte in all his tawdry finery.

Buckle: “Ho! Hello dere hadsobe! I do like dat houtfit! Bost stylish I bust say!”

Alfonso: “Ah do you really sink so M’sieur? Zat Leonard was quat rude about eet!”

Buckle: “Do, do, dat’s a super look dat you have got goig od dere! Hi wish dat I had a suit of garbedts just like deb!”

Alfonso: “Really M’sieur? Well we can alwaz swap clothes eef vous want?”

Buckle: “Bodestly?really ad truly ad bodestly? I’ll gib you dese toffees!”

Alfonso: “It’s a deal! Dat Leonard, ‘e nevair lets me ‘ave sugar, ‘e says ah get ‘ow you say, ‘eyperacteeve!”

Buckle: “Barvellous!”

And so without any further ado, the two idiots strip and exchange clothes. Buckle hurries off to find Bikle in order to show off his new wardrobe, and Alphonso sets off, mouth stuffed with toffee, to find Leonard, to do likewise, thus adding yet another layer of confusion to things, inasmuch as now not only is Bikle wearing a rented Bikle costume, albeit one consisting of his own stolen clothes, but Buckle is now rigged out in a rented Buckle costume, borrowed from a man now wearing a Bikle costume magically conjured by the Turkey, again from Bikle’s wardrobe, whilst his associate is sporting yet another rented Bikle costume, consisting of the clothes that Bikle discarded at the costume hire stall when he changed into the Bikle costume he rented, which as has previously been stated, was actually his own clothes, stolen by the unscrupulous proprietor of said costume hire stall. Anyway, here comes Morris, and he doesn’t look best pleased…



Published in: on March 21, 2016 at 12:32 pm  Leave a Comment  

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