Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


ROGER'S FABULOUS VOYAGES, PART 3, CHAPTER 3. (standard:humor, 1939 words) [3/10] show all parts
Author: Danny ZilAdded: Jun 16 2012Views/Reads: 1597/1044Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Roger listens to Doris, Thropely and Stan reminiscing about life on Earth.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

pit. There's no cave-ins or floods like there used to be back in 
Grimbledyke.” 

“We had some grand accidents in them days, didn't we, Thropely?” Stan
said. “Remember time at Silicosis Colliery when whole section gave way. 
Twenty men trapped for days, slowly dyin o suffocation an hideous 
injuries.” 

“Aye, that were grand that one, Stan!” Thropely agreed. “Rescue squad
worked round clock tryin t' reach 'em then got fed up an went on 
massive piss-up. Lasted for weeks. No survivors.” 

“But trapped men eventually got out,” Stan reminded him. 

“That's right,” agreed Thropely, nodding. 

The two of them puffed away contentedly on their pipes. 

“But there must have been some terrible diseases in your village when
you worked down the mines,” Roger said eventually. 

Stan beamed at him. “Yer right, lad. We had some o best diseases ever
known t' man. New ones were poppin up every other week t' stump village 
hospital.” 

“Aye we had some grand diseases in them days,” mused Thropely. 

They lapsed into silence awhile, each lost in their particular
reminiscence of the good old days. Eventually Doris stopped knitting 
and glanced at Thropely and Stan, her watery eyes twinkling. 

“Bodily cancer!” she announced, grinning. 

“By that were a good one!” Thropely said enthusiastically. “Rottin in
bed for months wi that ye were. Slowly fallin t' bits. Visitor would 
come in t' see yer an shake yer hand an yer whole arm would come off. 
Horrible stuff flowin out over bedclothes.” 

“An the smell,” Stan added. “Ye could smell it soon as ye opened front
door.” 

“Aye them were good days,” said Thropely. “Lovely diseases.” 

Doris's eyes twinkled again. “Petit Mal Epilepsy!” she announced. 

Thropely beamed at her. “Ye've picked a particular favourite o mine
there, our Doris.” 

“Knew it, love. Your Ralph had it.” 

“Yer right. By Christ he were a character though. Used t' see him down
pit havin seizure, foamin at mouth an pissin himself. Aye he were a 
right laugh was our Ralph.” 

“Didn't Ralph marry that Edna Kak from Aura Street?” Stan asked. 

“That's right, Stan,” Doris agreed. “Folks said he married above himself
since Edna were Grand Mal Epileptic. Said it would never work.” 

Roger looked puzzled. 

“Marryin above yerself was big thing in them days,” Doris told him. “It
were like marrying into different religion.” 

Roger looked puzzled. 

“What happened t' Ralph an Edna anyway?” asked Stan, scratching the
stubble on Doris's chin. 

“They used t' go round clubs wi act,” Thropely reminded him. “They'd
have a big tub o water onstage an both would get in an have seizures.” 

Stan laughed. “Now Ah remember! They were called The Magnificent
Jacuzzis!” 

“Aye, that were 'em,” agreed Thropely, nodding. 

“It were sad though when Edna died,” said Doris. “It were never the
same.” 

“That's right, love. Ralph tried another act by himself. Used t' get
into wooden box wi glass door an have seizure.” 

“Called himself The Human Spin Dryer!” Stan said, remembering. 

“That were it!” agreed Thropely, laughing. “Daft bastard!” 

“Them were good days though,” said Stan. 

“They were best days o us lives,” stated Thropely. 

“Best days o everybody's lives,” advanced Stan. 

“Best days o people's lives that haven't lived yet,” raised Doris. 

“Best days o Earth,” countered Thropely. 

“O galaxy Earth's in,” ventured Stan. 

“Best days o entire Universe,” suggested Doris. 

“Best days o history o entire Universe in its entirety,” Thropely
announced with an air of finality. 

‘Thank puck!' thought Roger. 

“That's why it were chosen for Second Coming,” Stan said casually. 

Roger raised his eyebrows in amazement. “The Second Coming!?!” he said.
“You mean the Second Coming of Jesus!?!” 

Stan nodded and puffed away on his pipe. 

Doris put down her knitting. “Ah didn't know that, Stan,” she said.
“About Second Coming. Did it really happen in them days? Nobody 
mentioned it in butcher's when Ah were in for tripe.” 

“It were true, our Doris,” Thropely told her. “But it had to be kept
secret. Only two or three knew about it.” 

“Disciples, like?” Doris asked. 

Thropely nodded. 

“This is silly!” Roger announced. “Are you trying to tell me that the
Second Coming of Jesus happened in a dull unimportant re-created 
English mining village!?” 

Thropely nodded. “It were true, lad. True as Ah'm sittin here ready to
let rip.” He farted. 

Doris frowned. “The Second Coming...it were never at number thirty nine,
were it?” she asked. 

Thropely nodded. 

“Eunice an Tommy Grunnion?” 

Stan nodded. 

“Well well!” Doris said in amazement. “Eunice an Tommy! Makes sense when
ye think about it now. Ah mean, after Nipper were born Tommy stopped 
bein labourer in sewage works t' take over as Head o Foreign Office. 
Folks always said it were some sort o miracle.” 

“Miracle it were, love,” said Thropely. 

“So what happened to him or should it be Him?” a sceptical Roger asked. 

“Oh He got killed durin a cave-in at Bronchitis Colliery,” Thropely told
him. 

Roger sniggered. “He got killed during a cave-in!?! Do you really expect
me to believe that the Second Coming was brought to an immature 
unplanned conclusion by the totally haphazard collapse of some random 
boulders in an underground cavern!?” 

“Why not?” Thropely said. 

“Well if it was Him, why couldn't He move the rocks and save Himself?” 

“Don't be silly, lad,” said Stan. “If He'd done that He'd have given
whole game away.” 

“But what was the purpose of the Second Coming if He couldn't make His
presence known?” an exasperated Roger asked. 

“Oh it were just dummy run,” Stan told him. 

“Trial, like,” added Thropely. “T' see how things went.” 

“An if they went well, if Lad felt we was ready for revelation, He was
goin t' make His presence known eventually.” 

“It must have caused a few problems when He died prematurely then,”
Roger said sarcastically. 

“Oh it did,” Doris told him. “Eunice an Tommy had just taken out new
three-piece suite from Co-op. Lovely it were, sort of dark blue wi 
white trimmin. Anyway, whole lot had t' go back. They couldn't keep up 
wi payments after Lad left.” 

“Lodgin money He were payin came in handy,” Stan explained. 

“Ah blame it on bad grammar in pit,” Thropely said. “Ah mean how can ye
expect Deity t' announce presence t' men who don't have remotest 
conception o how t' construct sentences? Who keep endin sentences wi 
prepositions an conjunctions? Who split infinitives?” 

“So your theory is that the entire Second Coming, the most important,
most long-awaited, most talked about event in the history of man was 
postponed because of bad grammar!?” Roger asked. 

Thropely nodded. 

“Hmmm,” mused Roger. “I suppose you could be right.” 

Just then there was a quick bust of brass band music as one of the
French windows opened and closed. 

“Here's our Wilf back,” said Doris, “an he's just in time t' break up
this reminiscin which could go on all night.” 

Wilf came in. He tossed the pipe tobacco to Stan, the brown loaf to
Doris then grimaced and clutched his buttocks. 

“What happened, our Wilf?” asked Thropely, winking at Stan. “Did alien
in shop interfere wi ye?” 

“Nae, our Dad,” replied Wilf. “It were drummer in brass bastard band!” 

Thropely and Stan laughed and slapped Wilf on the shoulders. 

Doris put down her knitting and went over to him. “Never mind, our
Wilf,” she said consolingly. “Come into kitchen an Ah'll make ye nice 
alien's brain poultice.” She turned and winked at the others. “That'll 
soothe yer stingin sphincter!” 

They all laughed and Doris led Wilf away. 

“Ah'll be sleepin in spare room tonight, love,” Thropely called. “Me
back's playin up again.” 

“Alright, love,” said Doris. 

As the door closed, Stan turned to Thropely. “More like yer cock's
playin ye up again!” he said and they both laughed. 

“Stan's just received a consignment o inflatable Filipino women for his
Sex Shop,” Thropely told Roger. 

“Oh, have you?.” 

“Aye, we're spending the night wi our organs surrounded by latex!” Stan
added. 

“Care t' join us, lad?” 

Roger politely declined. 

“Right then, Stan,” Thropely said, standing up. “Ah'll nip into shed an
fetch bicycle pump.” 

“Grand,” said Stan. “Ah'll meet ye in spare room. Ah'll get two nice
ladies out the boxes for us.” 

Thropely rubbed his hands. “Ah'll fetch stickin plasters as well. Just
in case.” 

“Good idea,” said Stan, grinning. 

“Sticking plasters?” queried Roger. 

“Aye that's right, lad,” Thropely told him. “Last time Stan was
back-scutttlin one o them an she started to deflate. Slow puncture 
like.” 

Stan sniggered. “Ah remember that!” he said. “Organ was still erect wi
sheet o white latex hangin round it.” 

“Aye, it looked like Italian Army flag flyin at half mast!” said
Thropely and they both laughed and wandered out of the lounge. 


   



This is part 3 of a total of 10 parts.
previous part show all parts next part


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Danny Zil has 30 active stories on this site.
Profile for Danny Zil, incl. all stories
Email: dannyzil@hotmail.co.uk

stories in "humor"   |   all stories by "Danny Zil"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy