Globusz^® Publishing 

“Chris Mason, you fucking great tart,” shouted Norman as he started walking towards his best mate. The men warmly shook hands and embraced before returning to the pub. Norman introduced Chris to Lenny before going back inside. Chris looked around in wide eyed amazement. Norman ordered their drinks; they toasted “The not so New Year.”

Mr. Patel passed by, “Norman,” he whispered, “we must go now. Saturday night, is poker night, not dancing you understand. ” He laughed and patted Norman on the shoulder. “You are so busy in here again, incredible really. I will look in on you again tomorrow my boy, take care.”

Norman and Chris continued their reunion they were back together again and it felt good.

“But where’s your gear man,” asked Norman.

“Ah, well, I called for you, where your E-mail said.”

“What, the house?”

“Yeah, Ernest and Katie took me in and gave me your room.”

“Why?”

“I just told them I was your best school mate, back from the Navy, they presumed the Royal. So they start treating me like a fucking war hero man. I couldn’t get a fucking word in edgeways. It’s like weird. They wanted to take me round to their local to introduce me to all their friends, me the war hero! I‘ve even been invited to their Birthday bash at the Prince of Wales tomorrow, did you know their birthdays are on the same fucking day man. Weird or what! They’re the same age and all. They look like brother and sister to me, twins are they? Oh yeah they said to bring you along. Help me man, get me out of there. Beam me up Norman.”

“I hear you Chris, you can come back with Betsy and me tonight.”

“You and Betsy! What sort of perverted world are you living in here Norman.”

“It’s just London Chris, you’ll soon get used to it.”

“Thank you, oh thank you Master, I am not worthy.” Norman ruffled up Chris’ hair.

“Look let’s go and grab Mr. Patel’s table, I’ll get Betsy over to meet you.” Norman got Chris settled then went off in search of her. Doc somewhat curious by now went over and introduced himself to Chris. Norman and Betsy soon joined them. The four chatted away at 100 miles an hour, they laughed together when Norman explained how Ernest and Katie thought Chris was a war hero. Betsy said she was O.K. about him staying in the apartment. Norman managed to convince Doc that with Chris the war hero coming home, it would be very rude not to look after him.

“Did he meet Colin the Destroyer?” enquired Doc before he excused Norman a full routine in return for some comparing. Doc and Betsy went back to work. Norman and Chris were well into catch-up when Betsy returned to their table, she whispered, “Norm, give Doc a great big intro now, please.”

Norman got up ready for business. Once on the stage the audience slowly took notice and a silence fell. He spoke, “I came up here for something you know, what the fuck was it, I hate it when that happens don’t you? Oh yeah, to introduce the next act of course. But while I’m here, just a thought. I’d like to confide in you if I may, it’s older women, well old women really. I’ve just started to notice them. Well I reckon they’d be grateful for it, at least. You can easily imagine that with my great Gatsby looks and outstanding physique young ladies throw themselves at me. It is an occupational hazard, we call them loonies, girls that hang around the stage door of Comedy Venues. Women of easy virtue, it’s so shallow, I always feel ashamed afterwards. Go on fucking laugh, pervert. Anyway as I was saying, Women, I’ve tried the younger post Thatcher types, modern girl, nine to five. I feel a song coming on. But they read all those fucking magazines and I mean fucking magazines. 100 pleasures to demand from your man, I hope one of them involves shagging at least, perhaps not. It’s natural for Christ sake. When ever, did any guy spend all night plying some female with free booze, to take her home and suck her toes I ask you! No way, so let’s think ancient, it’s not all lying in ruins you know. Joan Collins Could you? Would you? You would mate you’re older than her anyway. Seriously, so I tried this old one out, it was great she was a Nurse, I don’t think she’s in tonight, nope, good”

The hospital crowd responded with loud applause and whistles, Norman continued, “Not a great looker, but built like a hospital tea trolley and yes, she was desperate and grateful. You can get these magazines you know, oldies at it, these are no calendar girls believe me, there’s one called Gums. Doc loaned it to me. That reminds me, sorry to waffle on, please oh loyal and unruly crowd, give a Two Buttocks welcome to the one and only Spin Doctor.”

Doc made his entrance. He was wearing a sandwich board on which was written, The End Is Nigh. He was dressed in an old black suit and Vicars Collar. After he removed the board he started to spout a sermon of his religious humour. Norman had returned to sit with Chris, they half listened to Doc as he ranted and raved. But their conversation took priority.

“You were good Norman I’d like to see you do longer.”

“You will.”

“Zen Warwickshire, why?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“So when do you make it big Zen.”

“Should be this year, if at all.”

“You need a road manager?”

“Need a road first.”

“Sure, want another drink?”

“Does the Pope have a balcony?”

“Not for much longer, but I’ll get you a beer anyway.” Chris set off to the bar; Norman turned his attention to Doc on stage who was struggling a bit. Norman had an idea so he stood up and shouted it out. “Can you heal me please?”

Doc replied, “No but I know a man who can, Oh Beckham. What is it that ails you my son?” 

“I can’t get an erection.”

“I want everyone to hold hands and concentrate on this poor mans penis.” One drunken section of the crowd responded as Doc continued. “Think hard all of you, young man can you feel it, can you feel the power of thought on your penis, Oh Beckham.”

“Oh yes,” screamed Norman.

“Then let it rise,” shouted Doc.

“It is, hallelujah, it’s a miracle, I’ve got a hard on, oh thank you Beckham, thank you.”

Screamed Norman as he grabbed his crotch.

“Now you all have seen the power of The Two Buttocks, those gathered here when the end comes will be saved.” said Doc as he put his sandwich board back on and walked off the stage.

The lights dimmed as the crowd burst into great laughter and applause. Chris arrived back with the drinks, he had been watching from the bar. “You guys are fucking crazy,” he said as he slumped into his chair shaking his head in disbelief. “So what’s next, I’m ready for almost anything.” Chris didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Betsy walked straight out onto the stage to follow on from Doc. “Don’t get too friggin excited you lot,” she shouted. “I’m not here to introduce the next act; I’m it. No expense spared here tonight. Sharon and Tracy have asked me to remind you their new Poncey Sisters C D is on sale behind the bar. It’s a double A side, I shagged the sheriff and Gary, plus sisters are doing it to themselves. 

I see a few of you made the sales last month, only just though. Is that a stain or a motif on that Fruit Of The Womb top love, you shouldn’t have bought that, no matter how cheap it was; oh I see it says Nil By Mouth. You’re out of luck tonight then mate. You can pop round and see me in the morning, I like bite size for breakfast.

I went to the January sales; as you do, for the first time I should mention. Well I had to; fucking Minimum Wage. Any way I saw a sign, shoes, buy one get one free, yeah really. Brent Cross, it’s like being in the reception area of a large hotel being used for a United Nations Conference; apart from the smell of soiled nappies of course.

O.K. wait for it, now what I really, really, really hate about shopping centres is, got your pens ready? Attractive young female sales assistants for a start; music that attractive young female sales assistants like; shops decorated in a style that attractive young female sales assistants like; attractive young female shoppers that attractive young sales assistants hate. Woof-woof got that off me chest.

What do you mean what chest you cheeky tosspot, remember any more than a handful is a waste.

Have you noticed the stores all try to out do each other on the attractive young female shop assistants, they try to seduce the men into enjoying the sexual scenery while their wives take forever buying something they’ll never wear. They take the size into the changing rooms that they wish they were and don’t even bother to try it on; now this is real sad the double bluff. They announce to anyone that is interested, ha, ha, ha, that they can see it fits so well there’s no need to try it on. Then, encouraged by their other half who by now is so fucking horny undressing with his eyes, yes you got it, attractive young female shop assistants and he’s now desperate to get the wife back home. Soooooooooooo, he can give her a good shagging with the light off and pretend, yes you got it she’s an attractive young female shop assistant. Sex makes the World go round. But hey, O.K. her new friggin dress doesn’t fit, but look on the positive, at least she gets shagged twice in January this Year and somebody in the third world gets a new dress.

You lot are putty in my hands, stop laughing, save some for the other acts please. Getting back to the shopping, as a virgin, one thing that gets my old goat going, mums and their fucking prams. Why take the kids, these were the girls at school that liked the obstacle race, weird or what. They couldn’t run fast enough not to get pregnant, now they want to show off that their tubes work. Like it’s a big deal, like anybody friggin cares. Do you know Chinese tennis players give birth between sets! Yeah really. What I can’t resist is to get chatting to the mum that looks just a little too smug, drool over her child with her and then announce I can’t have children myself. Then watch the look of guilt come up on her face before I say ‘Only Joking. ’ I do like children though, but I couldn’t eat a whole one, not on my own anyway.

Single mums, what exactly are single mums? All mums look single to me unless they’re joined at the hip to their other half and that would have been a logistical nightmare. Do you know that most single mums live with a bloke and they still call themselves single mums, it’s like some terminal disease, you get told you got it till you die, it’s the same with single mums, the Doctor tells them they are a single mum and they think they got it till they die.

Now we got men on their own, pushing friggin prams round. What’s that all about? Someone please tell me. You can’t trust the bastards I know that, they’re all on the pull. ‘You can trust me, I’m a single Father. ’ Yeah like fuck mate, where is the wife today? However of course he might just be single, perhaps his wife died, I think I’d think feel safer if she was still alive. Well you can’t be to careful girls, you can read some terrible things these days; I make a point of it. Mind you I can’t get hold of a copy of that sex offenders list anywhere, even at the local library.

Date rape, I’ve done that a few times, I’ve had too. I tell ‘em ‘You give me a good shagging mate or I’ll set off my personal attack alarm.’ Well a girl’s got her reputation to think about. The word gets out you’re not a goer and bang goes all your free nights out and it’s not cheap going out these days you know. Unless you come down here I suppose, so I guess most of you girls have failed to comply with the old C.O.D. Well I could talk the knob off a donkey, but I won’t, anyway enough of this girls chit chat I’m off to chain myself to some railings, it’s not that I’m a feminist it’s just the way I like my sex. See you soon, Beckham bless you.”

Betsy got a deafening applause as she rushed off backstage. Norman and Chris cheered as they toasted her good health. The D.J. unscripted played some old rock’n-roll and a few in the crowd started to dance; Doc joined Norman and Chris at their table.

It was just over half an hour before Betsy joined the three having. She had needed to phone her parents. “I’d like to do the final intro” she shouted.

Doc just shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t care.”

Betsy returned to the stage, “It is time now for some male perspective on the World, shouldn’t be hard as they rule the fucking place, a huge Two Buttocks welcome if you please girls and boys for tonight’s international star Mr. Harry Shagman.”

The men in the audience cheered as the ladies booed. Harry waved his large Stetson hat in the air in appreciation of his reception. After a couple of minutes he managed to quieten the crowd down.

“Ladies, ladies don’t show yourselves up please, a drunken woman is not a pretty site. At least in Texas, the ladies know their place. Here in London, well I find things a little liberal for my liking. In fact guys, I kindah think you have given the ladies a bit too much slack on the old reins there. Need to pull em in a bit, show em the whip and when they start to behave a lump of sugar, so to speak.

Take Mrs. Shagman for example, a simple woman, goes without saying of course. A good wife and mother to our seven children, however there have been times, when I have had to remind her of those marital duties in the bedroom. Yes, I have found dust on the window ledge. Sue Ellen, I said if I wanted to live in a pigsty I’d have married one of those liberal English women. Mrs.Shagman comes from prime Texas female stock you see. In the old days I’d only have to look at her in a certain way and she’d calf. But it took its toll; she’s a big old gal now, a real handful, quite a challenge really. Some nights I stand out on the porch with my brandy and cigar, aware that Mrs.Shagman is in the bedroom awaiting her last duty of the day and I think to myself, oh Lord give me the strength to get through this, to climb the mountain called love. Well I go upstairs and you know I hear her snoring, the good Lord has answered my prayers, he moves in mysterious ways friends. I feel a song coming on.

I reckon making love is for youngsters, sex is for the elderly. But you know women don’t seem to be aware of this. I have a sexual arrangement with a young lady at the office. It still works fine, if you know what I mean, but Mrs.Shagman, now she’s a bit, well old-fashioned. A great believer in the missionary position. When you get to my age the masonry position is a much more exciting pro-position. Yep, two minutes up against a wall in the poor part of town sure beats the hell out of a marathon in pink silk sheets at South Fuck.

But ladies, I wouldn’t want you’ll to get the wrong idea here, not that you should be listening into men’s’ business anyway; I am considered liberal myself in Texas by many of the old boys, oh yes sir, you bet, sure thing, in-deedy. Take the other day for example I allowed Mrs.Shagman to be the first lady within her social group to purchase a vibrating penis, on the condition of course that it be a white one. Therefore now when I am away on a business trip she can, whilst thinking about me of course, take care of ladies business. Therefore avoiding the desperate measures taken by some of her group, resulting in some cases in divorce, sexually transmitted diseases and even multiple orgasms a most un-natural act if you ask me. So you see my friends, what might seem a liberal gesture on my behalf could indeed save my family. Well, no good getting older unless you get wiser. ” Betsy, Doc, Norman and Chris studied the big American, “This guys good,” commented Chris to the others.

“Oh yeah, he’s found an easy niche to crawl about in,” shouted Betsy as Harry got a loud audience response with his, “If you aint for me, you’re again me,” routine. “I think some of your Women folk need a good horse whipping fellas, tonight.”

“Should be on the Royal Variety Show, old Harry boy,” joked Doc.

“So should my friggin Father, they got a lot in common,” responded Betsy in an acid tone.

“Comedy is a very nasty business, these days,” added Norman. “If you can’t take it you shouldn’t give it out, Zen says.”

“Another drink! One for the gutter anybody?” asked Chris as he fumbled with a huge clip of bank notes.

“Yes please sailor,” answered up Betsy. The others nodded their acceptances as they watched Harry dig himself an even deeper hole with the ladies in the crowd and Betsy.

Norman called over a waiter to take their order, “Well why not,” he told Chris. “ I am the boss.” Doc noted Harry was going well over his usual length of stand-up.

“He’s enjoying winding the crowd up to night, he’ll have to start writing new stuff soon,” said Betsy in a mocking tone. Harry informed the men in the crowd, ‘That he had never yet needed to take his boots off whilst making love to a real Lady. He reckoned that the sound of the spurs rattling got them pretty dam excited. Then confessed though that sometimes he does take his hat off.’ “That’s where the old expression comes from,” he added, “I’ll take my hat off to that little Lady.” The waiter arrived with their drinks. Chris proposed a toast, “To men behaving boldly, Texas and Harry Shagman.” Betsy’s glass was absent from the toast.

Harry gave the queue and the theme tune to Dallas roared through the Fiasco. He did his usual stepping down to shake hands with carefully selected applauding males. Still with his microphone working he announced, “Ladies, Ladies please be patient if there is time I will get round to meeting some of you too. Or you can visit me on my web site, that’s www.shagharryplease.com.”

With that as his final line he sloped off into the darkness at the side of the stage and made his way to the office; Doc was there to meet him. Harry was a no nonsense guy he would be paid and then slip out of the nearest door; Doc returned to join the others. This was the time Doc, Betsy and Norman liked the best of every working night. They welcomed Chris into their perfect time with drinks on the house. The D.J. finished the night off well, he had a knack of getting the music just right for the crowd, with a little help from Doc of course.

Lenny after checking with his pocket-watch and Norman started to clear a few glasses off the tables, this showed the crowd it was getting near to, “Going home time,” as he called it. Norman got up to add a bit of support. Doc, Betsy and Chris were settled in for the night. The staff were busy putting customers into their taxis as Norman re-joined his friends.

Lenny escorted the final few to the door before he shouted his farewells to all. The staff set themselves up at the table next to their bosses. Friendly verbal exchanges soon started up.

“Well Norman, how much money have we taken for you tonight,” said Patrick.

“What night is it Patrick?” asked Doc.

“Saturday?” he replied.

“Yes Patrick Saturday and we tell the jokes on Saturday, but you can pour the drinks, mines a large one.”

Patrick smiled as he set about producing drinks all round.

“On the house,” called out Betsy.

“Whose house?” asked Patrick. 

“Our house is in the middle of our street, ah-ha,” sang Doc, Norman, Betsy and Chris. Great laughter and noise broke out and continued as another party headed into the early hours. Staff taxis turned up from time to time, Doc was the last to leave as Norman, Betsy and Chris were trying to solve the problems of the World. The three would have drunk till daylight had the pub temperature not dropped to nearly freezing.

Their tiredness came on as they taxied over to the apartment and they were silenced. Their return was so late that the heating was off; Betsy quickly produced a sleeping bag for Chris to bed down on a sofa, she and Norman sought the comfort of the king-size. Moments later they were all asleep.

Neither Norman nor Betsy had mentioned to Chris the apartment was on a wharf, where high tide came up to the window ledges. He was sleeping on the sofa facing the windows; it was his first night off the ship. Daylight had just arrived but had not disturbed the three.

Suddenly Norman and Betsy were woken by Chris stood in the middle of the apartment in his underwear mortified, he was shouting, “ship along side, ship along side. Sound the alarm.” The situation got worse as Betsy had got up through the night and put a white face pack on. With her and Norman now both stood up on the bed, Chris managed to turn his head round to face them. Added to the noisy barge he had just seen at the windows he could now see what seemed to be a very tall ghost standing beside someone he had been at school with. He was now in such a mess, his mind unable to put the scene into perspective, he dropped to the floor calling for his Mother. Norman rushed over, the barge headed off back out into the Thames. Betsy went off to the bathroom to remove her face pack. It was a slow process but Norman managed to talk Chris back to reality. Betsy joined them with coffees, cigarettes and an explanation.

“It’s the River Police Barge, they check the wharf out.” explained Betsy, “that’s all.”

“I didn’t know this apartment was by the fucking sea,” replied Chris.

“Not the sea, the River man, it’s London, you know! the River Thames?” added Norman.

“I do now. I’ve sailed the fucking World without fear and I come to London and get the crap scared out of me.” Replied Chris.

“It’s the booze man, you lost it. You woke up and didn’t know where you were. Well it is your first night off the ship. This is so fucking funny man,” shouted Norman. Betsy was already laughing. Chris jumped up running over to their bed he grabbed a pillow, returning to attack. Betsy gave him the slip she made it back to the bed picking up two pillows. “Norman, Norman catch,” she shouted, he managed to side step Chris to catch the pillow and enter into a three-way fight. After a couple of minutes and three spilled coffees they all submitted.

Norman re-boiled the kettle for replacement coffees. They now mellowed on the sofas, Norman and Betsy feeling relaxed and good humoured, Chris still recovering from his traumatic experience. They stayed awake and drifted on into Norman’s idea of microwave pizza for breakfast. Betsy could only avoid this by taking off on her bike. The two men eat, drank and smoked for a while before nodding off again. Norman had made Chris promise he would remember where he was. “I can’t go through that again,” he exclaimed.

“You can’t, what about me!” Chris pleaded, “I might start bed wetting.”

At mid-day they were woken by the ringing of the telephone, Norman being the only one able to find it answered. It was Betsy she had called on a friend and would not return for a while; that night she was doing a stand-up at The Micro-Wave for Doc. Chris seemed pleased with this news, he had some ideas for Norman’s ears only.

It was time for Chris to find his way round the apartment, he made a fresh brew of coffee.

“Phew, some night that,” he gasped as he lit up his cigarette with the help of the cooker.

“Worth it though,” sighed Norman.

“Sure, always is.”

“Got to do it all over again tonight.”

“That’s a long way off man, just relax.”

“I have to go in and sort the bar out first.”

“I’ll help you, it’ll take no time.”

“Thanks, I accept your offer.”

“My gear is at your Uncles.”

“I’ll pop round early evening, pick it up, they’ll understand.”

“You could say, President Bush has sent for me, few loose ends to tie up.”

“Or I could tell them the truth.”

“No don’t; they think by putting me up they’re were doing their bit towards the war.” “Fucking great! well I’ll deal with it anyway.”

“So I can stay here till my ship sails.”

“Yeah sure, now you sit tight cause I am off to shower myself back to life.”

With Norman out of the room, Chris fumbled through his jacket to find his mobile phone. He was soon phoning around till he tracked down his mate Eddie.

“Hi Eddie, Chris here, bad line, what you up to you dirty dog.”

“What you’d expect really, I’m in an opium den , like the one in that film with De Niro.”

“You wish dog.”

“O.K. I’m at my parents, in the bathroom, I’m bleaching my hair, should look great with some gel on. The wrinklies are in the lounge watching bowls on the wide screen and discussing laminated flooring. Get me out of here.”

“Sure that’s why I’m calling. I want you to come over for tonight, check my mate out for the cruise. I watched him last night; he’s a good stand-up comedian and would be a great asset to our social lives, a bit of a babe magnet.”

“Sounds great, but where are you?”

“Here, but where are you?”

“Here, Newbury-on- boredom of course.”

“Oh your folks, I remember, phone me your train time and I’ll meet you at Paddington.”

“Cheers you just saved my life, what’s your mate’s name?”

“Zen Warwickshire.”

“You’re fucking joking I hope.”

“You can call him Norman.”

“That’s better, Eddie and out.”

Chris put his phone away as Norman walked back into the room. “ You feeling better?”

“Yes sure man, poor me a coffee please.”

“Norman, I have an idea to run by you.”

“You need my advice?”

“Not as such, no, it concerns you or it could do.”

“Shoot then dog. You put sugar in this? ”

“I couldn’t be bothered.”

“Good, so your idea was?”

“It’s like this Norman, you know when you E-mailed me, you said.”

“Oh yes, I know what I said, so what.”

“Well I pulled a few strings and if you want, there’s a job.”

“Really, doing what? Or should I ask.”

“Of course, would I drop you in it? It’s entertainment man.”

“Entertainment!”

“That’s it, money for old jokes.”

“That was funny, I might use that.”

“Feel free, O.K. my mate Eddie he’s sort of entertainment manager, on the ship.”

“Sort of!”

“Well, the last guy left, well fell overboard actually he was pissed as a newt, but couldn’t swim like one and they never got round to replacing him. So Eddie became manager by default. He doesn’t get the going rate though, but he’s happy just being the boss it’s a fucking doddle. I have to work, he has to play. Anyway he can give you the cruise. What do you say? ”

“I don’t know.”

“Thanks you little darling, might be a good start.”

“Thanks you little darling, but.”

“Ah the big but, Betsy, we got enough girls on board, you can leave her home.”

“It’s her home.”

“Better still, now what’s the but?”

“But when do we sail?”

“That a boy, next Thursday.”

“Just like that!”

“Just like that.”

“I don’t know what I’d say to Betsy.”

“Just tell her the truth.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Better still, tell her a lie. You’re going to work for the Red Cross in Afghanistan.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Africa!”

“No, I’ll sleep on it.”

“But you’re up for it?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“This might help. Eddie is coming up to meet you tonight. Call it an interview or audition if you like. Though the jobs yours already. I’m going to bring him over to the pub. Now you let him kip on the other sofa tonight, we’ll have a few beers, game of cards. Betsy will be disturbed even annoyed I guess if you don’t check it with her first. She’ll be glad to see the back of you mate on Thursday. She’ll realise you were still one of the lads at heart and it’s her that’s having the lucky escape. While you’re sailing away she’ll be busy changing the door locks, maybe even moving, going into hiding or shagging Patrick.”

“O.K. enough, I get the big picture thank you, I’m drumming up some bad Karma here.”

“You just worry about this life; so now we’re sorted.”

“Seems so, I need to get over and start work, I’ll take a rain-check on your offer to help. Slam the door behind you if Betsy is not back when you go to pick up Eddie. See you later on.”

Chris smiled as Norman set off, “The deal is done,” he said to himself wandering round the living space. “I should be a salesman. Mind you I am saving this guy from this hamster-wheel life and wife! Not that I expect any thanks. This is nice though, very nice, too fucking nice, I don’t like nice.” He picked up a pair of Betsy’s Knickers laid on the bed, “This is not nice,” he threw them back down. His phone rang, he answered, “Yo, Eddie what news?”

“Seven sound good?”

“You got it. Be wearing a frown, cause I’ll be late, cheers.”

Chris returned to his chair, he had some time to kill. After discovering the big screen he watched some television, channel hopping till he settled on some extreme sports. He dozed off. The front door slamming close awoke him, it was Betsy. She was friendly, putting the kettle on for a fresh brew. They drank their coffee together. Chris explained he had to go and meet a shipmate at the station. He was drawn into a conversation with Betsy that he had not bargained for. Oh the web we weave, he thought.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked away from the apartment. Then decided, still with time to kill to check out the area would be a reasonable way to loose an hour and consider his conversation with Betsy. He walked through to Tower Bridge, the day was dark the Bridge lights reminded him of life at sea. He wandered into the shopping area and gazed at the luxury apartments so close to the Thames. “This is bollocks, nice bollocks though,” he mumbled to himself, causing a passing couple to avoid eye contact with him. ‘Time for Paddington,’ he thought, ‘I’m early, lads on the ship reckon they’d found bargain hookers there, hum, I’ll see what’s on offer if there’s time. He set off for West London.

“Paddington Station, here you are,” he muttered, “and I’m early, Bring on the girls.”

“Chris, Chris,” came Eddie’s calls. He was of medium build and in his early forties; with his holiday camp dress sense and clean cut good looks, he was easy to spot. “Thank mermaids you’re here. I had to get an early train, my parents were driving me fucking mad, good job they don’t sell guns in Woolworth’s.”

“Calm down, I was just about to get laid so I’d like to shoot your parents too. Nice hair.”

“Thanks, let’s get over to this pub of your mate’s, now.”

The two men queued up at the station taxi rank for a few minutes. “In a cab heading for a good night out, nothing changes,” said Eddie.

“Nor should it,” replied Chris.

Their cab pulled up outside the Two Buttocks. It was closed. Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Fucking Osborne, if I wanted to see a closed pub, I could have stayed in poxy Newbury”

“Shut the fuck up man, Norman is inside working, come on.” Chris knocked on the door. “This is better man, a closed pub and I’m on the inside,” shouted Eddie as Doc let them in.

“Shush Eddie, you’re not on board now, settle down,” advised Chris. Norman greeted them, introductions were lengthy, drinks were poured and it was Eddie that proposed a toast, “To Sunday, this Sunday. What you got on here tonight guys?”

“It’s Sunday night at the Two Buttocks,” explained Doc.

“Well it would be and,” replied Eddie.

“O.K. we have top of the bill Bungalow Bill, some live Reggae from Rasta Man. My good self and Norman will plug some gaps. Then there should be a few auditions up, if they can find the Venue. Plus of course our Comedy Disco, I mean Fiasco and I nearly forgot, our special surprise audition guest, Eddie.”

“Money good?” asked Eddie

“The word audition, means you don’t get paid,” replied Norman.

“Great racket mate, I’ll try that on the ship. Anyway put me down for an hour.”

“You got 5 minutes, Eddie what?” asked Doc.

“Just Eddie,” he replied.

“O.K Eddie Just, how’s that sound?”

“Like a sixties pop star, call me Eddie Blizzard or I don’t go on.”

“That sounds like a fifties pop star, but it’s a deal, you drive a hard bargain.” insisted Doc.

Eddie and Chris took themselves and their drinks to a table well away from the stage. “Best let them get set up now,” suggested Chris.

Doc whispered to Norman he would like a few private words in the office. They wandered off, Norman wearing a nervous look. Both sat in the office. Doc broke the silence, “I had a phone-call today, at home, from Nigel. He’s coming back, which is good; he’ll stay up at the flat with us. I need to mention something though re. Nigel. You know he was pretty fucked up in his head, that’s why he went home to his family. Well, the reason was Norman, he had been having a relationship with Betsy, and she dumped him. Not long before you dropped onto our planet, they were an item. He was living in, the, apartment. Her parents bought that, so she’d have a nice place of her own. You see Nigel is about your age, Betsy of course thirty-ish. He thought it was forever. But Betsy isn’t up for that. She comes from a wealthy back round and she isn’t going marry one of you poor bastards. One day when the time is right, she’ll go back to Norfolk and marry some rich farmer, but in the meantime grab it and shag it Norman, she’s hot. Sorry but with Nigel coming back.”

“Thanks for telling me Doc, Nigel and I will not be crossing swords, not quite.”

The two men returned to work, Doc wandering what Norman’s last comment had meant. Norman was excited by Doc’s news. It was still an hour or so before opening, Doc took the orders for the chip shop. He soon returned, all now gathered at one large table. Some of the bar staff swelled their numbers. The noise of eating gave the venue an atmosphere of troops before battle. Lenny barged in, “This place stinks of fish and chips guys, I’m going to open some windows. Let’s get professional here.”

“He’s right, it takes the doorman to get us back on track,” announced Doc as Lenny spotted Mr. Patel and Co. arriving and let them in.

“Don’t pay us any attention boys, we’ll just reserve our table till you’re ready, good evening everybody.” Said Mr. Patel most humbly.

“This place is weird,” whispered Eddie to the others as he and Chris returned to their table.

“So who you going to be tonight Eddie?” enquired Chris.

“Make em laugh son, just make em laugh.”

“How?”

“I got five minutes man, that’s all, by the time I introduce myself, it’s time to say goodbye. I will just tell ‘em a joke, just one. You know why, no. I’ll tell you why. Only one joke only one possible failure, right. I throw in a few half funnies as I go along, if the punch line doesn’t hit the spot, it’s not a problem, you’ll see, they’ll still applaud me, bet you and my hair looks cool.”

“This crowd will not be your cruisers you know Eddie, this is an alternative comedy venue.”

“They are just fucking punters man, Joe public, bet me.”

“No, you want another drink?”

“Just a large one.”

Lenny opened up, after he had been round twice with the fresh air spray that was giving Mr. Patel a coughing fit. “I preferred the fish and chips smell,” joked Eddie.

There had been a queue and they filed in, handing over their hard earned cash as if in search of some Holy Grail. Soon they were throwing even more money over the bar, which reminded the bar staff of why they were there. Patrick only employed attractive females, there were, ‘Tits everywhere, he would often comment and the busier the bar the more they wobbled up and down, he would advise the customers as if it was like some old fairground game.’

“Roll up and put your money in the till and see the action,” he shouted in his charming Irish accent.” None of this was wasted on Mr. Patel he admired the girls every move. They were aware of his eyes fixed on them, it made them feel uneasy, except Lisa, she boasted, “I’d fuck him for a grand, but I’d fuck anybody for a grand.”

Within an hour and a half the venue was packed out, it was very noisy. Doc insulted the audience and the auditions got underway. Eddie would go up last after a special introduction. He now waited his call in a subdued manner. Chris noticed a change in his mate and wandered if he could and would produce the goods he had promised. Eddie smiled as he watched the auditions struggling to break through. Without notice Doc closed that part of the show with the announcement of a special audition still to come, “Here at the World famous Two Buttocks, the true home of comedy we bring you another, yes another first. A special audition act, yes a truly international audition act live-ish right now. He’s just back from entertaining our boys and girls on the high seas, it’s Mr. Eddie Blizzard, yes that’s Blizzard folks.”

Eddie, set off towards the stage. He grabbed his beer and Chris’ cigarettes.

“Save your applause for the ones that are getting paid,” Quipped Eddie. “They won’t feel guilty taking their wages and you won’t feel you’ve been ripped off. Don’t point them at me love, they might go off. Everyone’s a winner, what about those old sayings though, old wives tales. Hard work will not kill you, what, do you know in the developed countries work is still the biggest killer, honest. Two can live as cheaply as one, that’s a double lie, that one. One can’t even live cheaply; two can live twice as expensively as one it should be. A problem shared is a problem halved. No, a problem shared is in fact a problem doubled. Opposites attract, bollocks, however, with that in mind I will now, if I may, share with you a recent family problem, as I feel so relaxed in your company. My brother and sister- in-law have a teenage daughter. Claudia, their only child, yeah they tried it once and didn’t like it, you know the sort of family I’m talking about. Sad with a capitol F.

Claudia has had a sheltered life, well nearly. Little while ago they all visited the Zoo. As Claudia is nearly seventeen, she was allowed to wander off on her own. After a while her parents hear this siren and see zookeepers running towards a large cage. They decide to be nosey

‘Perhaps someone has fallen in with the lions, that’s handy,’ said her Dad switching on his cam-corder. When they catch up with the crowd, they discover Claudia is the centre of attention. A massive gorilla has, well let’s say tried it on with her. She is traumatised but unharmed. The family leave the Zoo rather embarrassed Kids! Any way back home Claudia goes into a sulk, will not come out of her room, won’t eat. After a couple of weeks her mother decides, enough is enough. A woman-to-woman chat is needed.

‘Claudia, we know you had a traumatic experience, but the Doctor says you are fine and must forget it, move on. So tell me Claudia what is it? What is the matter dear?’

Claudia spoke, at last. ‘He hasn’t phoned or come round or even written!’

The crowd laughed enough, “The old ones are the best,” shouted Eddie, “jokes, women, cars, shoes, whiskey. Have a good week, if you aint coming back, have a good life. Night-night.”

Eddie launched a doll he had quickly made up out of balloons out over the crowd. Doc shook his head at Norman, both men smiled. Eddie had passed his audition. Even Mr. Patel laughed as the life size doll flew by his table. Doc took over the stage to introduce an audition, the Bag Lady. She clambered up onto the stage, cursing everything and everybody. Doc rejoined Norman.

“I guess you could do a spot tonight Zen, we’ll split the middle act, ten minutes each,” suggested Doc, “You first.”

“Sure, I got some ideas,” replied Norman, “this Bag Lady’s a bit rough Doc.”

“Yeah, but it works well, a great character. Shush listen to her.”

“I told the old bill, I was graped down the market. You mean raped Madam said this snooty little bastard. No I sez, there was a bunch of them.”

Eddie was now watching the Bag Lady with Chris they laughed. A few of the audience passed by, they wanted to know more about Eddie. He obliged, even handing out bogus business cards with a fictitious web-site address. “You’re so full of bullshit man,” remarked Chris.

“Yeah I know,” replied Eddie, “but I mean well. You will need to get Norman down to Kings cross tomorrow first thing for some jabs, at the hospital of course, if he’s coming with us, right.”

“Sure,” replied Chris, handing back one of the business cards.

The night was going so well that Mr. Patel could spare his ears the comedy disco. He had seen enough. He called Norman over, “We will go now my boy,” he whispered, “I see that Paddy’s goose is laying yet another golden egg. We will meet tomorrow, mid-day here if it suits you. I’ll take you for lunch after, my place, my treat, just us.” Norman just nodded and smiled.

Doc arrived at Eddie and Chris’ table, “Hey Eddie, would you do an intro for Norman, I mean Zen, please.”

Eddie jumped up and made his way up onto the stage. “Testing, testing, one two, one two. Is it switched on?” He banged the microphone like a steward at a working men’s’ club. “Yes I think it’s switched on now, testing, testing, yes that’s better. More treble please, thank you, can you hear me at the back? The lady by the fire exit, no there’s not a fire dear, can you hear me love, put your hand up if you can hear me. No, over here love, you can’t hear me, you can hear me. Well make up your fucking mind love, we are trying to do a show, a show dear. O.K. she can hear me, great. Before I make an announcement, the committee has asked me to remind you the Two Buttocks fridge magnets are on sale behind the bar. All proceeds go to a good cause, to send Stan and Joan’s daughter Beryl to America for Silicon breast implants. Now back to the evening’s entertainment. It is my privilege as joint acting secretary of this establishment to welcome on stage, a young man with a big dick, yes it’s Mr. Zen Warwickshire. Ladies and gentlemen give the lad a big round of applause. Zen the stage is yours son.”

Norman arrived pan faced. The crowd went quiet and attentive; some knew Zen as Norman the doorman, some as the venue manager, some as Zen. Some had even heard the name on the circuit not knowing it was Norman. Nearly a minute passed without a Zen moment. Suddenly he pulled a box of matches from his jacket pocket. He showed the crowd they were real, even lighting one as final proof. He walked away from centre stage having placed the box on the floor on its end. Then turning to the crowd, took his jacket off and started to clap his hands above his head. Eddie joined in and the clapping soon spread through the audience. Zen lined himself up with the matchbox and after some athletic type final preparations, he ran towards the box jumping over it. The crowd lead by Eddie cheered. Zen looked back at the box with a desperate expression, then clenched his fist and turned to the crowd to take their applause. On queue one of the barmaids walked on stage and presented him with a pint jug, he spoke, “I’d just like to say, a big thank you to all my friends and family for supporting me, believing in me and saving me all their empty matchboxes to practice on. But it’s not all me, me, me. I just hope that I will be an inspiration to other young kids growing up rough on the streets of Golders Green. I’ve been there, done that, got the skullcap. But it doesn’t have to be like that, the Zen Warwickshire and Jonathon Backwards foundation sponsored by Red Light matches now offers real hope to others that want to pursue extremely silly sports. Thank you.”

Doc was caught out by Norman’s abrupt finish, leaving the stage lights up. The crowd presumed they were getting more. Norman just walked back on held up his trophy kissed it and left the stage again. This time Doc still surprised by the Zen act did blackout the stage. Norman slipped backstage to the office to continue with the paperwork that Mr. Patel would wish to inspect the next day. The Fiasco played on.

“That was weird,” said Chris.

“Very alternative, as long as he can blow up balloons he’s got the job,” replied Eddy.

“I wander where he’s gone, I’ll go check him out.”

“Sure, on your way back if you pass the bar mines a large one.”

Chris took off in search of Norman after Doc pointed him in the right direction.

“Mind if I join you Eddie,” asked Doc as he sat down.

“Be honoured Doc, want me to introduce you too?”

“How did you guess?”

“Male intuition Doc, same style do you?”

“Yeah, that was fine, good idea. What do you make of Zen?”

“Takes bottle that sort of thing, but I think your crowd is up for it. Wonderful thing entertainment, they should let those Palestinians into that Eurovision Song Contest you know, after all Israel is in it. That’s probably what’s causing most of that problem.”

“Are you serious, Eddie or what!”

“What, actually.”

“Interesting theory though, the simplest solutions are often over-looked and I’ve never understood why our Foreign Minister is never foreign.”

They were joined by Norman. Chris was still at the bar. “Where is that retched boy,” asked Eddie, “man shouldn’t be dieing of thirst in a pub, imagine if the papers got hold of this story.”

Chris arrived with the drinks swimming in the tray. “Never think he is a waiter, would you?” asked Eddie, “Look he’s still rolling with the ship.” The four laughed. Eddie headed off to the stage.

Once in position, he banged the microphone, “Ladies and Gentleman I have an announcement to make.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, along with a pair of glasses. “It has come to the attention of the committee, that certain members of the Two Buttocks Working Men’s’ Club have been removing the toilet rolls from the lavatories thus causing much distress to other folk. If this continues the committee will have to withdraw the two-ply extra soft toilet paper and put on sale behind the bar, individual toilet tissue packs, thank you. Now it is time to move on again with the entertainment, so without further ado here he is The, Spin, Doctor, funny name! Is that right aye?”

“Yes thank you very much Eddie, he’s doing a great job tonight. Yes I’m the Spin Doctor. Do you ever ask yourselves, why is there only one monopolies commission? Should Gays be allowed to vote? Should the homeless be tagged? Should women have to take the same driving test as men? Was there Football on Mars? How many sides has a football got? Two aye, you cleaver fucker, want a job? Did Jesus just heal those people with Germolene? All questions that need answering. And what was that? That Meatloaf would not do for love? The mind boggles; I would have thought that guy would do anything, Oh how we laughed. Let’s get back to football, Wembley Stadium, why knock it down? Oh yeah, I forgot, to build a new one. For what reason, sweet F.A. So why don’t all old buildings get replaced then? New Stone Henge, the New Pyramids.” 

Norman, Chris and Eddie had got chatting, having lost interest in Doc and the Two Buttocks. Norman called a waitress over with more drinks.

“So Norman,” said Chris “is this a farewell drink to all this.”

Norman nodded, “Oh shit,” he said, “I forgot to sort things out with Ernest and Katie, about your gear. I’ll pop round to the Prince, just catch them for last orders and see you in fifteen. Oh shit it’s their birthday and I haven’t got them a present.”

“No probs just tell ‘em you’re leaving, that’ll make their day special,” said Chris, as he and Eddie laughed at Doc doing a Tony Blair impersonation followed by David Blunkett looking for weapons of mass destruction. “Now you know why David Blunkett, shouldn’t be Prime Minister, talk about the blind leading the blind or what,” he screamed.

“This is another World Chris,” said Eddie. “But give me the open sea any day.”

Doc was off stage before Norman returned, making his way back to Eddie and Chris.

“I’ve sorted things out, Ernest and Katie know I’m off too. We are always welcome to use the room when we’re in London guys,” announced Norman. “And they weren’t born on the same day Chris, you fucking wind-up merchant. They just celebrate the two at once, as they’re close.”

“Bet they think we’re going back to war.”

“No you silly fucker, they were winding you up, they know you’re on the cruisers, I forgot that I must have told them about you. I’ll pick up your worldlies tomorrow lunchtime.”

“I’ll head back with Eddie first thing to his folks in Newbury,” offered Chris, “give you space to sort things out with Betsy. If, sorry, when she kicks you out, you can use that room and then meet up with us at the ship. Don’t forget first thing tomorrow your jabs and my worldlies.” Norman nodded.

The music stopped as Bungalow Bill had decided against Doc’s wishes to introduce himself, this novel idea had the crowd in fits of laughter and became half of his act. Norman, Chris and Eddie all studied him and enjoyed being insulted along with the audience. He finished by singing the Long and Whinging Road.

Doc had decided this night to put Rasta on last, as he introduced himself he pointed to a loud speaker, “Magic box speak-um,” he announced. This Doc funny went down well with the crowd. The live music finished off the show in the most perfect way; with the help of a Doc Reggae composition, ‘Lord of de tings.’ Rasta had brought along his next-door neighbour to play bongos, ‘Unpaid of course,’ Doc had insisted.

Lenny was fairly swift sending people on their way Sundays, reminding them they had work the next day. By 1 o’clock the evening was just a collection of blurred memories as a few staff hung back for a free late drink. Doc had left. A taxi hooted at 2.30 to take Norman, Chris and Eddie back to the apartment. They had agreed there was no need for a game of cards as Betsy would be pissed off enough as it was and they were shattered. Betsy was asleep; Norman quickly dimmed the lights and pointed the guys towards their sofas. Once in bed he whispered his explanations to Betsy, she responded.

“If I didn’t know you better Norman I’d think you were perverted. You keep bringing all these strange men back after work are you trying to tell me something, trying to spice up our sex life?”

“No it’s not like that honestly, just mates.”

“Only joking dear, get some sleep because that’s all you are getting tonight, goodnight.”

Norman slipped out of bed stumbling his way over to Chris. “Tell Eddie about the Police barge man, don’t want him getting freaked out like you did.” he whispered.

Betsy was not amused trying to get to sleep to the sound of three men snoring in different keys and gave some serious thought to her situation before she was overcome by tiredness. The three men left early in the morning. Norman scribbled her a note, explaining he had much work to do at the pub and the guys had an early train to catch. The three travelled to the hospital, there Chris and Eddie left Norman in the queue for his jabs. They then made their way to Paddington Station for breakfast and their train journey to Newbury. Norman was still feeling a touch faint when he arrived at the Two Buttocks just after eleven. Pleased to have some time to finish the books off, he made himself a strong coffee and lit up a cigarette. By mid-day he had all the cash accounted for and was on his third coffee and cigarette when he heard the doorbell ring. It was Mr. Patel, Norman showed him through to the office.

“Take a seat Mr. Patel.”

“Thank you Norman, are you well.”

“A little hung-over, to be honest.”

“Ah I see, the old Devil drink. I have a motto, to only get drunk once a day, ha, ha, ha.”

“I’ll certainly take your advice Mr. Patel, thank you, can I get you a gin and tonic.”

“Yes please my boy, just a large one ha, ha, ha.” Mr.Patel glanced at his watch for approval. 

“Here we go then,” Norman returned from the bar. He poured himself yet another coffee.

“Well Norman, I see your figures confirm the now obvious. Quite amazing. I never knew. Paddy tripped over a pot of gold when he met Doc. Alright Nancy still had to convince him to take that big step though. Terrible shame about Nancy, nice funeral. Were you there Norman? I didn’t notice.”

“Yes Mr. Patel, we were very close friends.”

“I see, sorry I had know idea.”

“Neither did I at the time.”

“We should move on, as I was saying. A plan, solution you could say to apply here. Paddy as we know did not do so well here last year and the comedy was slow to get going.” Mr. Patel winked, “therefore it is only reasonable that after the alterations that were made here to allow the comedy a better facility and the increased advertising that, business should have increased to the present level. So now we can just bank everything as normal for Paddy, I will keep the books going and authorise the outgoing payments. It will be business as usual, all your jobs are safe, very safe in fact. I will write those cheques now. Just pass me the list please.” With his gold pen and with scrupulous consideration he made out the requested cheques. “Now Norman I have decided to make an extra payment to you, call it a loyalty payment re the Lenny factor.” He handed over £500 in cash to Norman. “I will see Paddy gets his share also of course.”