What a week its been. It was Halloween. I had gone
to The Happy Pumpkin early in order to help the eccentric generaljimmi prepare
the pub for its new opening.
We had only just begun to sort some of the lanterns
out when in burst Pickles The Pigeon harping on about the number 31 again in a
properly psychotic manor. He was flying around the lounge bar like a bird
demented and ended up seeking refuge up the fucking chimney.
I’m quite used to seeing animals behaving like
retards round here, so I calmly approached the fire - unlit I’m hastened to add
with my head poking as far up the chimney as possible.
I quietly asked him what was occurring to which he
replied that the boxersise event at the farm was off, Princess Cara of Purbeck
was hiding in the grain dryer, and the village locals who were due to attend
the event were going to come to the Halloween party at the pub early. We had
enough pumpkin soup on the go to sink the arc royal any way.,.. so it didn’t
really bother me.
Needless to say that Princess fuck face isn’t one
to make haste usually and normally takes life in an overly confident swagger.
Pickles The Pigeon went on to explain that they had
both witness an apparition of Drago The Stag on the hill by the farm as twilight
descended.
Some say that Drago The Stag is a cross between
alive and dead and can only be summoned into this world by a true dark
bastard……
AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS……..
It takes time and energy to bring him into our reality,
to make that transition between worlds,
There is only one being powerful enough to do this,
with time in abundance to conjure up the necessary energy to allow this.
If you are ever wandering where John Deere tractors
got their logo, look no further. If you are ever wandering where the idea came
form to build the mighty Triumph Stag… look no further.
Some say that Drago the stag is as powerful as the
mighty machines that have come to represent him. He can dig through the earth
with the same ease as a John Deere earthmover can. He can also smash through
lead with his mighty antlers.
So the stage was set. I told generaljimmi to batten
down the hatches but I was too late. Village yocals started descending into the
pub like lemmings off a cliff face and before I knew my arse form my elbow, every
table was full and pumpkin soup and home made bread was flying out the kitchen
at light speed.
I was stiff with fear. I no longer had Frank to
back me up as he was god knows where, so I was all alone. Thankfully Matt the
farmer turned up dressed as mummy with a semi full squadron of his crew. Cut n
Paste Wayne was dressed as a giant pumpkin, TGK was in a flight suite and
aviators – (although why she was still in her work clothes I don’t know) and Dave
The Piercer was dressed as Tracey Beaker: Pig tales and all – don’t even go
there. What’s more the snake posy arrived too, all rocking rather cool glow
type outfits.
There was a distinct lack of Handsome James –
although I’ve never seen Handsome James and generaljimmi in the same place at
the same time, weird?
I briefed them on the situation. But it was too
late.
All the lights went out and the candles in the pumpkins
died without even a flicker. The log fire, lit by now started burning blue
flames which omitted an eerie glow and brought the whole pub into a weirdly lit
atmosphere some where between light and dark. Good fucking job too as no fucker
is going to see my black ass! Hiding under a table!
Pickles was now hiding in the cellar. Last place they’d
look – obviously – what a twat.
The door flew open and there in all his glory was
the menacing skeletal shape of Drago The Stag.
Sat on his back wearing a trilby, and Dr. Martins
riding boots was Knuckles The Magpie. He let the reins go, dismounted, walked
into the bar and let a cigarette with a zippo and confidently chirped:
“Someone tell me where she is or this place is
going to burn.”
Just then pickles burst through the cellar door and
shouted…
“Do as he says, its Halloween for good sake, he’s
at his most powerful”!
Everyone in the pub seemed to be glued stiff with
fright, as if they were frozen in ice.
Then it came to me…… The four horseman of the
fucking apocalypse needed fucking horses right?
So I bolted towards the pub door, burst through and
charged powerfully into Drago smashing him into a million pieces.
Lamborghini didn’t use me for my fucking looks
alone you know!!
Inter-dimensional being my arse. More like anorexic
cunt if you ask me.
Shoulda been in fucking re-hab. Took him like the
bitch he was. Now Knuckles was on his own.
…Then I walked back into the pub straight up to Knuckles
who was perched on a Guinness tap, slowly eating a glowworm….
“You aint having her Knuckes, you have been out the
loop too long I’m afraid.”
“Jock, you appear to have no Peacock protection
now, be careful” he replied.
Just then my back up arrived. The fuckers had been
in the flat above the pub playing poker and drinking rum…..
Nice costumes boys
Metal Face Mitch, Discount Dennis and Big King Tom rocked up with the same swagger as Hells Angels on Harleys.
You couldn’t see them for shit but old Metal Face
is Australian and you can hear his bog arse accent a mile off, boasting about
his winnings and being rather explicit about his sex life.
Discount then chirped up through the darkness and
said
“Knuckle’s The Magpie. You can’t see in the fucking
dark can you me old chum? Well we fucking can and we are going to tear you limb
from fucking limb. We woulda done it earlier but I don’t like to fucking get
dirty and the last thing I would want to do is dig you out of that pit you were
in…. where you put… by a fucking bird”!
All the snakes then laughed with evil cackles.
King tom was next to speak …
“How we gawwwn play this knuckles”?
Metal Face Mitch then got royally Australian and
said:
“Ya see mate, Jock’s now our employer. And we are
looooyal employeeees".
Knuckles knew the score, he knows when his back was
against the wall.
“Whatever he’s paying you I’ll double it”
….He said desperately
“Mate it doesn’t work like that. You and Cara are fucked
mate”.
Just then the lights came on with a bright flash
and Knuckles made a dash for the door. He flew out and into the darkness.
And that was that.
Later that night we all marched to the farm but
alas princess bitch face had disappeared from here hiding place in the grain
dryer.
Those two haven’t been seen since.
Good knows where they have gone but with these
three snakes on patrol the whole time I don’t know if I care to be fair. These
guys are used to being captives and now they have purpose. Ok, I had to stop
them a bit lastminute.com from taking the postmistresses small twins the other
night but on the whole they are behaving.
They have a mutual respect for Jerry The Adder as
they see him a viper to look up to as he is native to the area. Jerry pretty
much keeps them in line in a weird way. You can’t help but think they are humouring
him though,
Pickles hasn’t spoken since Halloween. He seems
like a lost sole. He doesn’t know where they have gone. Maybe they’ve sorted
out their differences, maybe they have killed each other. Even if they work
together they wont overcome these aggressive snakes.
I don’t
think we will be infected by magpies down here on the farm for a while…
