12 April 2008
231
Chapter 4
"Agh," I said taking an intake of breath and turning around. There in the doorway, twilight making her a dim little figure, stood . . . Mrs. Edguf, chocolate bunny head in her hand.
"Wot av yer done Squeamish Sweety?"
I looked down at the blue blood on the floor, and then up, I mean over at her. She stood tall, well, as tall as she could at 4 feet.
"I . . . I . . . I . . . "
She shuffled over and looked down upon the face of Eamon. She crouched down and said, "Ooh, lookie even is' blood is bluuueee. Make a great colour to tint me white chocie in." She dipped a finger in the blood and tried to hold it up to the light, but the light was dim, so she got up and walked over to the window where there was the cleaned spot and studied the colour on her fingertip.
Well, this wasn't going the way I thought it would. I thought she'd run and call the beetle on me, but no, no, she was thinking chocolate. There was a handsome dead man on me floor, and she . . . well we know what she was thinking and that was a good thing for me.
"How can you be thinking about chocolate? I've got a dead handsome guy on me floor."
"Then I guess," she sighed, "it SUCKS to be you."
Uh oh. Maybe she wasn't thinking chocolate after all. I had to get her mind back to chocolate, so I did me damnedest.
"Human head dipped in chocolate, chocolate dripping down," I blurted out making no sense whatsoever.
She came over and this time saturated her hands in Eamon's blue blood. She went back to the window as if in a trance, turning her hands this way and that to catch the light on the blue.
Here is proof:
Courtesy R. Linda
"Don't gloat. Not nice." She said over her shoulder at me.
Gloat? I had other things to do but gloat. I heard Eamon's boy calling his name from below. I had to do something with the body. I looked around me in a panic. The dresser drawer, the bottom one, yes that was it. I bent down, flung Eamon's fine-looking arms over me neck and hauled his handsome arse up over me shoulders. I ached from me nose, bum, and head, but I managed to get him over to the dresser. I realised me mistake, I hadn't opened the dresser drawer and he was heavy. I started kicking at the handles with me tattered boots, but couldn't open it and the voice was getting closer.
"ROLONDA!" I shouted to Mrs. E who slowly turned from her reverie and jumped at the scene before her. She ran over, pulled out the lower drawer and helped me dump Eamon's handsome self inside. We had just got it shut when the young lad appeared at the top of the stairs. I made like I was fixing the handles as he looked perplexed at the two of us and he walked into the room.
"Any ayah seen me master?" He asked looking around in there.
"Uh wot?" I said as if distracted, "Ya mean the handsome guy in the purple suit?"
"Yeah, that be the one."
"Uh no, prolly he went off for a pint."
"He dunt drink mistah."
"Oh, okay well, maybe he went for a spaghetti dinner somewhere."
I could see the lad was not buying it and I thought me answer was clever.
"Ain't nuthin' wrong wit that handle Missus," he said to Mrs. Egduf.
I stood up and reached into me pocket. I had some chewing gum so I offered the lad a piece. He looked at it and as he popped it in his mouth he noticed the blue slick puddle in the middle of the floor. He went on over much to me horror. He turned and looked at me as if I had killed someone.
"I . . . uh . . . have a prairie dog problem in me house. They burrow under the floorboards and I be tired of trying to chase and catch them," I stammered.
"Ick," Mrs. Edguf said coming to stand next to me, looking up into me face like I was a maniac. Then she said, "I once had to remove some person's large corn snake. It was at least 6 feet long I grabbed it out of our tree and let it go in a field," she sighed. "Me, a snake wrangler.
"O K." The lad said chewing for all he was worth and backing away. "SO wots that blue stuff really?"
I knew we made a mistake about the prairie dogs and corn snake. This was LONDON, not Colorado for God's sake and we were acting guilty, but too late to stop now.
"It's prairie dog poison," the quick-thinking Mrs. E said.
"OOH," the lad said and then he ran down the stairs. I went to go after him, but Mrs. E caught me arm.
"I know I've told you before, yer an evil, evil man! That was rabid chocie chewing gum, wasn't it?"
I hung me head and we heard the crash by the door. The lad was dead. I knew it was a matter of time, but I was amazed the gum worked so fast. We both went to the foot of the stairs and looked down. Sure enough there he was, dead at the bottom. He was in the process of blowing a bubble and it had burst sending the poison up his nose.
"Quick Squeamish Sweety." She said running down the stairs, "Open the middle drawer and I'll bring his dead self up."
I hurried to the dresser and struggled to get the middle drawer from sticking. Just as I rolled it out there was Mrs. E tumbling the dead kid into it. She threw it shut with a bang. We stood in the dim light looking at each other. She was as guilty as I was, only I knew it and don't think she did.
"Sooo," she said sighing, "what's the plan Squeamish?"
"I don't have one," I said.
"Ere' now you bettah get one and pronto!"
"OK. You're going to help me throw them into a vat of boiling fudge and instead of a giant Easter bunny to display, we'll have a giant chocolate troll, a handsome one, and a little troll. We'll put them in the window and advert it as our tribute to Mr. Gnolevilotgniogton and his charge. We'll stock your shelves with all his sugar substitute bunnies as if we did business with him and at midnight I'll take the caravan and ditch it in the Thames. Then no one will be the wiser."
She rubbed her palms together and grinned. "Aaaah! Great minds think alike! I've always HATED chocie bunnies. Empty little suckers with a waxy taste. They never satisfy. Even the solid ones were pretty disgusting. I would bite off the ears and leave the rest. So generous of me."
It was me turn to gasp.
"YOU DID WHAT?"
"Just to see if it was the good stuff. It was hard finding dark chocie when I was a kid," she explained all ruffled.
Satisfied she wasn't a bunny ear-biter, I got down on me hands and knees and started wiping up the blood with her hanky that was still stuck to me hand.
"Ere' you," she said sticking her wet mop into me side, "let me get that. You go down to the cellar and start stoking up the fire."
LATER THAT NIGHT
I had disposed of the caravan. I was cold from the London chill and was glad to be in the dark cellar standing in front of the blazing blast furnace. Mrs. Egduf was as good as her word, while I was gone she had cleaned the floor and kept the fire up in the oven, and had molten chocolate bubbling in the vat. We had placed the handsome Eamon in the laundry chute upstairs and that had thrown him down upon the cellar floor, same with his meddling sidekick.
"I think it's hot enough Sweety," Mrs. E said from her position on a scaffold where she was stirring the huge vat of fudge with what looked suspiciously like a canoe paddle.
"Will they be bloody or chocolatey?" I asked.
"Either is good," she yelled back at me laughing dementedly.
I hoisted up the handsome Eamon and lowered him slowly on a chain into the vat. The bubbling went to furious and louder as he disappeared into the deep, dark, hot chocolate fudge.
"OK hoiest em' back up," Mrs. Egduf said, as I put me sore back into hoisting his handsome dead weight self coated with a rich chocolate fudge layer. "All roight now down again," Mrs. E. yelled. I hoisted him down and once coated to her satisfaction I hoisted him up and over to a shelf with holes where the excess chocolate would drip off. Mrs. E freed his soft chocolate body from the chains to harden.
"Get the little git," she yelled and I went over and started to hoist the young laddie up following the same process. Twice dipped and he was good to go, even the gum bubble he was in the process of blowing came out looking like it never burst. Perfect!
We stood below the big shelf looking up in the glow of the fire at our chocolate human creations. Globs of hot chocolate oozed through the holes in the shelf and hit the cold stone floor with a hiss.
"He looks good enough to eat," I thought I heard Mrs. E mumble, when I asked what she said, she mumbled, "Nuthin'."
As I was suspecting Mrs. E of a mind in the gutter, I couldn't help but think how chocolate the two looked. They were like real chocolate figurines.
"That's it, isn't it?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, and remind me to never get on your wrong side." She said wiping her hands on her baggies.
"I think I need a drink," I muttered.
"Anything and anytime is a good time for booze!" She laughed. "Maybe you'll hallucinate and our chocolate "bunnies" will turn into zombies. If you end up seeing them move, let me know."
"You're joking roight?" I said looking up at the two chocolate-covered bodies. "Move? Begorrah me, I hope they don't MOVE."
"Look at it this Squeam, they don't look like humans. They look kind of like rabbits and I dislike rabbits. Give me cute baby bunny pictures, just not the real thing, they smell. I like squirrels and chipmunks from a distance."
I had to look at her. She was losing her mind she was. What she just said made no sense, none. Maybe it was a good thing she was really a crazy person disguised as a pancake flinger.
Copyright © 2008 All rights reserved
Chapter 4
"Agh," I said taking an intake of breath and turning around. There in the doorway, twilight making her a dim little figure, stood . . . Mrs. Edguf, chocolate bunny head in her hand.
"Wot av yer done Squeamish Sweety?"
I looked down at the blue blood on the floor, and then up, I mean over at her. She stood tall, well, as tall as she could at 4 feet.
"I . . . I . . . I . . . "
She shuffled over and looked down upon the face of Eamon. She crouched down and said, "Ooh, lookie even is' blood is bluuueee. Make a great colour to tint me white chocie in." She dipped a finger in the blood and tried to hold it up to the light, but the light was dim, so she got up and walked over to the window where there was the cleaned spot and studied the colour on her fingertip.
Well, this wasn't going the way I thought it would. I thought she'd run and call the beetle on me, but no, no, she was thinking chocolate. There was a handsome dead man on me floor, and she . . . well we know what she was thinking and that was a good thing for me.
"How can you be thinking about chocolate? I've got a dead handsome guy on me floor."
"Then I guess," she sighed, "it SUCKS to be you."
Uh oh. Maybe she wasn't thinking chocolate after all. I had to get her mind back to chocolate, so I did me damnedest.
"Human head dipped in chocolate, chocolate dripping down," I blurted out making no sense whatsoever.
She came over and this time saturated her hands in Eamon's blue blood. She went back to the window as if in a trance, turning her hands this way and that to catch the light on the blue.
Here is proof:
"Don't gloat. Not nice." She said over her shoulder at me.
Gloat? I had other things to do but gloat. I heard Eamon's boy calling his name from below. I had to do something with the body. I looked around me in a panic. The dresser drawer, the bottom one, yes that was it. I bent down, flung Eamon's fine-looking arms over me neck and hauled his handsome arse up over me shoulders. I ached from me nose, bum, and head, but I managed to get him over to the dresser. I realised me mistake, I hadn't opened the dresser drawer and he was heavy. I started kicking at the handles with me tattered boots, but couldn't open it and the voice was getting closer.
"ROLONDA!" I shouted to Mrs. E who slowly turned from her reverie and jumped at the scene before her. She ran over, pulled out the lower drawer and helped me dump Eamon's handsome self inside. We had just got it shut when the young lad appeared at the top of the stairs. I made like I was fixing the handles as he looked perplexed at the two of us and he walked into the room.
"Any ayah seen me master?" He asked looking around in there.
"Uh wot?" I said as if distracted, "Ya mean the handsome guy in the purple suit?"
"Yeah, that be the one."
"Uh no, prolly he went off for a pint."
"He dunt drink mistah."
"Oh, okay well, maybe he went for a spaghetti dinner somewhere."
I could see the lad was not buying it and I thought me answer was clever.
"Ain't nuthin' wrong wit that handle Missus," he said to Mrs. Egduf.
I stood up and reached into me pocket. I had some chewing gum so I offered the lad a piece. He looked at it and as he popped it in his mouth he noticed the blue slick puddle in the middle of the floor. He went on over much to me horror. He turned and looked at me as if I had killed someone.
"I . . . uh . . . have a prairie dog problem in me house. They burrow under the floorboards and I be tired of trying to chase and catch them," I stammered.
"Ick," Mrs. Edguf said coming to stand next to me, looking up into me face like I was a maniac. Then she said, "I once had to remove some person's large corn snake. It was at least 6 feet long I grabbed it out of our tree and let it go in a field," she sighed. "Me, a snake wrangler.
"O K." The lad said chewing for all he was worth and backing away. "SO wots that blue stuff really?"
I knew we made a mistake about the prairie dogs and corn snake. This was LONDON, not Colorado for God's sake and we were acting guilty, but too late to stop now.
"It's prairie dog poison," the quick-thinking Mrs. E said.
"OOH," the lad said and then he ran down the stairs. I went to go after him, but Mrs. E caught me arm.
"I know I've told you before, yer an evil, evil man! That was rabid chocie chewing gum, wasn't it?"
I hung me head and we heard the crash by the door. The lad was dead. I knew it was a matter of time, but I was amazed the gum worked so fast. We both went to the foot of the stairs and looked down. Sure enough there he was, dead at the bottom. He was in the process of blowing a bubble and it had burst sending the poison up his nose.
"Quick Squeamish Sweety." She said running down the stairs, "Open the middle drawer and I'll bring his dead self up."
I hurried to the dresser and struggled to get the middle drawer from sticking. Just as I rolled it out there was Mrs. E tumbling the dead kid into it. She threw it shut with a bang. We stood in the dim light looking at each other. She was as guilty as I was, only I knew it and don't think she did.
"Sooo," she said sighing, "what's the plan Squeamish?"
"I don't have one," I said.
"Ere' now you bettah get one and pronto!"
"OK. You're going to help me throw them into a vat of boiling fudge and instead of a giant Easter bunny to display, we'll have a giant chocolate troll, a handsome one, and a little troll. We'll put them in the window and advert it as our tribute to Mr. Gnolevilotgniogton and his charge. We'll stock your shelves with all his sugar substitute bunnies as if we did business with him and at midnight I'll take the caravan and ditch it in the Thames. Then no one will be the wiser."
She rubbed her palms together and grinned. "Aaaah! Great minds think alike! I've always HATED chocie bunnies. Empty little suckers with a waxy taste. They never satisfy. Even the solid ones were pretty disgusting. I would bite off the ears and leave the rest. So generous of me."
It was me turn to gasp.
"YOU DID WHAT?"
"Just to see if it was the good stuff. It was hard finding dark chocie when I was a kid," she explained all ruffled.
Satisfied she wasn't a bunny ear-biter, I got down on me hands and knees and started wiping up the blood with her hanky that was still stuck to me hand.
"Ere' you," she said sticking her wet mop into me side, "let me get that. You go down to the cellar and start stoking up the fire."
LATER THAT NIGHT
I had disposed of the caravan. I was cold from the London chill and was glad to be in the dark cellar standing in front of the blazing blast furnace. Mrs. Egduf was as good as her word, while I was gone she had cleaned the floor and kept the fire up in the oven, and had molten chocolate bubbling in the vat. We had placed the handsome Eamon in the laundry chute upstairs and that had thrown him down upon the cellar floor, same with his meddling sidekick.
"I think it's hot enough Sweety," Mrs. E said from her position on a scaffold where she was stirring the huge vat of fudge with what looked suspiciously like a canoe paddle.
"Will they be bloody or chocolatey?" I asked.
"Either is good," she yelled back at me laughing dementedly.
I hoisted up the handsome Eamon and lowered him slowly on a chain into the vat. The bubbling went to furious and louder as he disappeared into the deep, dark, hot chocolate fudge.
"OK hoiest em' back up," Mrs. Egduf said, as I put me sore back into hoisting his handsome dead weight self coated with a rich chocolate fudge layer. "All roight now down again," Mrs. E. yelled. I hoisted him down and once coated to her satisfaction I hoisted him up and over to a shelf with holes where the excess chocolate would drip off. Mrs. E freed his soft chocolate body from the chains to harden.
"Get the little git," she yelled and I went over and started to hoist the young laddie up following the same process. Twice dipped and he was good to go, even the gum bubble he was in the process of blowing came out looking like it never burst. Perfect!
We stood below the big shelf looking up in the glow of the fire at our chocolate human creations. Globs of hot chocolate oozed through the holes in the shelf and hit the cold stone floor with a hiss.
"He looks good enough to eat," I thought I heard Mrs. E mumble, when I asked what she said, she mumbled, "Nuthin'."
As I was suspecting Mrs. E of a mind in the gutter, I couldn't help but think how chocolate the two looked. They were like real chocolate figurines.
"That's it, isn't it?" I asked.
"Oh yeah, and remind me to never get on your wrong side." She said wiping her hands on her baggies.
"I think I need a drink," I muttered.
"Anything and anytime is a good time for booze!" She laughed. "Maybe you'll hallucinate and our chocolate "bunnies" will turn into zombies. If you end up seeing them move, let me know."
"You're joking roight?" I said looking up at the two chocolate-covered bodies. "Move? Begorrah me, I hope they don't MOVE."
"Look at it this Squeam, they don't look like humans. They look kind of like rabbits and I dislike rabbits. Give me cute baby bunny pictures, just not the real thing, they smell. I like squirrels and chipmunks from a distance."
I had to look at her. She was losing her mind she was. What she just said made no sense, none. Maybe it was a good thing she was really a crazy person disguised as a pancake flinger.
Copyright © 2008 All rights reserved
1 comment:
You should be published. Too funny!
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