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The Quiclys (standard:humor, 26212 words)
Author: laughalotAdded: Aug 31 2002Views/Reads: 3244/3376Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Adventures of a less than average seven child family in Australia

Submission from Laughalot  ~       Title~ The Quicklys

. I first wrote this story after a friend of mine explained the meaning
of 'P.O.Q'. I thought it was so funny I created a character, thus the 
names. Having done that It naturually progressed. It got out of control 
and a whole cast of characters was born. I hope you enjoy reading 'THE 
QUICKLYS' as much as I have creating them, Dan 


* The Funeral * OBITUARY Quickly, Pissov aged fifty six years, formally
of Shady Days retirement home, Stiffgrove. Sadly missed by family and 
all who missed (read "milked") him, (especially Shady Days Director Mr 
Ratborn Lowe) passed away april 1 19- R.I.P 

Nickov was devastated. well, distracted anyway since obits genrally
aren't between Garfield and Mandrake comics, but Shady Days was 
somewhat familiar.So after finishing the comics and some toast, Nickov 
rushed 'bored stricken' to Ex-mortis express funeral home for the 
financially challenged (read "dole recipients"). Nickov had never got 
along well with dear old Dad since an episode some years back in which 
his father had managed to burn down their first home while rolling 
drunk on vodka. 

Pissov had achieved this while hurling cheap illegal crackers into the
fireplace to celebrate some obscure Russian holiday. One had been a 
'cartwheel' which had immediately 'cartwheeled' back out, flying around 
the room on its own momentum setting curtains and apholstery alight as 
it went before coming to rest under the sofa. Too drunk to find his own 
arse with both hands and a compass let alone rescue the situation, he 
had fled into the street with his bottle,laughing like a jackass and 
sat down on the ground where he promptly fell asleep, while the house 

Nickov and Gladys had come home to find fire trucks out the front and a
large smoldering heap of burnt rubble where their home had stood only 
hours before.It had been bought after years of slaveing away at a dead 
end job and he and Gladys were over the moon at finally owning their 
own home.Having lovingly furnished it throughout with the last of their 
savings and held a house warming party only the week before, it goes 
without saying , they were not impressed. Not yet having insured the 
house, something Nickov has never forgiven himself for, they were 
forced to face a life of rental ever after. Hence the relationship 
between Nickov and his father. 


The mortician was a tall, horsey faced, somber zombie. (Aren't they

"Ex-mortis express, for the swift departure of the finally departed sir,
how may I help you"?. 

"Well he's kicked it hasn't he", said Nickov. 

"Who's passed away sir?" said Mortis. 

"Pissov" said Nickov. 

"" asked mortis, not sure where this was going. 

"Of course Quickly" said Nickov, how many Pissovs do you have?" 

"Oh..yes, quite right..and you'll be...?" 

"Nickov" said Nickov. 

"Please sir I understand your distress at this sad time however..." 

"Its my name" explained Nickov for the millionth time in his life. 

"Oh right, most unfortunate" said mortis. "Russian?" 

"Er kind of " said Nickov. 

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