Grimbeau

Scroodles

Tag: Henry

May 20, 2016

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The Old Man of Hoy at the Island Hoy (Orkney).

‘Hello…Flo! Are you in?’

Henry recoiled nearly dropping the enriched uranium in the chicken pellets. Of course he recognized the voice immediately, Gina: Gina Orbit, quite capable of talking her way around a sizeable planet, but somehow got stuck after the piano incident with her late chimpanzee, Alf. While sashaying through town a piano had missed her shoulder by six inches and landed plumb on her head, a detached g-string had severed Alf’s head. The piano was in pieces and Gina had got off lightly with primrose catarrh and mild headaches when she heard Grieg.

‘Flo! It’s me…Geeenah!’

Henry aborted his pastime, wiped the enriched uranium and put it back in the elephant’s foot.

‘Hello, Gina…she’s climbing the Old Man of Hoy and picking up some anchovies, probably be back at teatime Wednesday.’

‘Oh, it’s you Henry’ she said with remarkable powers of perception in one so thick. Perhaps…

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December 11, 2015

Renaissance

 

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‘Just walks around sweating, does nothing but sweat…and fart. Yeah, sweating and farting, and grunting too. Sweats, farts, and grunts. The man is a disgrace!’ raged Nobby, hopping shrewdly on his good foot.

‘What did he ban you for then?’

‘I called him a fat, lazy, turd.’

‘I see.’

And Henry did see. He had discerned a pattern emerging since Nobby offered to stick a hot poker up his arse in July after a lurgy. Quarterly cycles, circadian rhythms, in-growing toenails, attention seeking behaviour, and six pints of Old Tharg each lunchtime had taken their grotesque toll.

‘ I’m going down the Zephyr from here on in.

Henry was confused.

‘You mean the Zodiac?’

‘Yeah. See you Sunday.’

‘Okay, Boss.’

–

With Flo away and Headcase post-traumatically shocked from a wolfhound goring Henry was all for the quiet life. Summer had been pointless, autumn dormant, and now with winter’s onset Henry was concentrating on his baldness with all his might. If he fretted on it very hard, a hairless Xmas was within his grasp. A once in a lifetime opportunity. The experiments with the uranium earmuffs would have paid off. In the new year he would get a patent via the Godalming Honkers Cult and new vistas would duly open up.

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