Afternoon Tea (pt1)

Yolanda, peering through window, “It looks like the Furnisson’s are going out again Morris.” “What? I’ll have Coke Shovelling Johnson’s hide for this, what am I going to do with all those campanologists now?” “Not furnaces Morris, Furnissons, you know the new err… people from across the road, they’re always going out in that fiat panda or theirs.” “Oh yes, something strange about that lot if you ask me, eighty three bottles of milk on the doorstep every morning. Not natural is it? And Convinced He’s A Mouse Johnson won’t go anywhere near them. Excellent judge of character is CHAM Johnson, something amiss there you mark my words.””Maybe we should invite them round for a cup of tea, you know break the ice, be neighbourly?” “Maybe I should burn them to death. I do not cotton to them Yolanda. No indeed I do not. I do not like thee Dr Furnisson, the reason why I cannot tell, but this I know, and know full well, I shall exult on the charred and blasted ruins of your house before the day is much older.” “Morris! Stop it! They seem very nice. Mrs Furnisson works at the health centre. I often see her there when I pop in for my prescription.” “How about this then my little trestle table, me and Johnson will pop over with a few cans of lubricant and burn the place to the ground whilst they sleep?” “Morris! No that’s the same suggestion as before. No burning houses down on the street. It was bad enough when you burnt the Hobsons shed down, definitely no houses!” “Hobson was asking for it, after they bought a new mower when I had already fixed the old one, the cheek of it, I am not the lord of all lawnmowers for nothing. Still, as you desire my little Kettering traffic light system, I shall refrain from razing the house to the ground. As you suggest, we can have tea party instead, I shall invite Johnson and maybe Herbert Jackson too.” “Who the fuck is Herbert Jackson?” “He is the nephew of the deliciously departed Albert Jackson. He popped round to borrow a spanner the other day and we engaged in a reverie upon his late uncle, though I naturally refrained from mentioning his uncle’s comestible properties. He is particularly fond fine teas and no doubt will bring a selection with him for us to try. You had better get baking some scones, and potatoes for that matter. Eh Johnson!” “Mwaaerk!” pipes up LD Johnson and Dr VS Johnson (from behind his curtain) in agreement. “Ooh you’re right, I can try my new recipe book out ‘Scone! How to makes Scones vanish from the table’” She says it with the intended comedy intonation but Morris looks non-plussed. “How to make scones vanish from the table? Why would they vanish from the table? Unless of course I disappeared them, or burned them, though the latter would not be commonly considered a mode of vanishing. Please elucidate the matter!” Morris has pronounced scone to rhyme with bone as opposed to Yolanda’s ‘gone’ rhyme which clearly isn’t helping. “No Morris, Scone! Like ‘it’s gone’, as in people have eaten them!” “Already? But you haven’t made them yet?” “No that’s the name of the book! It’s a joke, that the scones have vanished, because people have eaten them because they were so good.” “I’m not sure about this Yolanda and I am unable to vouch for how good they were as I didn’t get a look in, secondly, just as with burning things, eating things does not constitute the usual rendition of vanish. ‘This’ is vanishing things.” And the recipe book disappears from the table. “Morris bring my fucking book back!” “ho ho Yolanda, I’m afraid its scone for good!”


Published in: on January 20, 2017 at 4:48 pm  Leave a Comment  

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