The Author

The Author

Monday, 10 June 2013

THE COBALT MANNEQUIN

THE COBALT MANNEQUIN


Kram Toille arose from his bed at the usual hour and preceded to prepare himself for the days activities. 
It was Tuesday and therefore a working day. He dressed in his usual office attire and draining the last dregs from his cup of tea, opened his door and strode towards the intersection of his road and the main route to the station. 

His village comprised of a number of post war properties but was mainly composed of early Victorian cottages and a mixture of late medieval and Elizabethan barns and manor houses.

However there was only one shop for the villagers and it was accompanied by a single village pub.

The shop was run by an octogenarian man named Octavius Willender who's family had moved to the village during the persecution of the Huganoughts in the 17th century and had remained ever since. Octavius was now the sole survivor of the family, as his wife had died during a robbery at the shop in 1959 and his children had perished whilst on a school trip to Aberfan in 1966.  

The shop was a double fronted shop with Victorian glass panels and one small door. The shop fronts were identical and both contained mannequins dressed in an assortment of clothing.  A total of five mannequins were spread across the two window spaces and the clothing was always of an antique nature. 

At the intersection. Kram Toille turned left and was soon passing the shop. As usual he glanced in to the first window and noticed that three of the models were clustered together as if speaking to each other. Further more , the second window was noticeable by the fact that the remaining two mannequins were set with there backs to the door entrance, and thus the mannequins positioned in the preceding window.

Soon Kram was at the station and as he boarded hid train to the city his thoughts returned to the Cobalt mannequins in Octavius's shop. He was not sure but he thought he could remember a trickle of red bloodlike liquid falling across the cheeks and upper lip of the two lifeless mannequins in the second window.

He soon picked up his paper and turned to the quick crossword which he began to complete with a small HB pencil. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the first clue which read "Sweeney Tod was ear but not there!". As his brow began to sweat profusely he remembered that along with the trickle of blood running across the mannequins faces, a grizzly lump of red mushy flesh appeared to lay at the feet of each of the cobalt figures. The redness of the  blood being extenuated by the deep blue colouring of the mannequins. 

As his train pulled in to the station Kram was shaking with disbelief as he realised that his 45 minute journey had elapsed in no time at all and that  he was at his destination. He trudged to his office and was soon buried in an avalanche of paper work and phone calls. He was often distracted throughout the day as his colleagues seemed to revel in discussing his mental distress by continually mentioning within their speech references to ears, Todd, Sweeney, death etc, although they were only making reference to the previous evenings TV when the crime thriller "the Sweeney" had been broadcast.

Soon his day was over and he rushed to catch his usual train home, and he was soon sitting in his Pullman carriage reading the Evening News. He gingerly turned to the back page and fixed his eyes on the crossword. His eyes scanned the clues and was dumbfounded to note that the first clue was a reference to "drinks enjoyed with surgical implements used by ships doctors whist viewing crime TV".

His train pulled in to his home station and he disembarked at a speed of knots as his feet strode towards the corner shop and the cobalt mannequins. 

He was almost out of breath as he reached the shop fronts and without missing a stride he pushed the door open and entered the shop. As he entered he was greeted by  old Octavius who held a huge surgeons razor in his left hand together with two severed ears in his right hand. As a scream  flooded from his dry cracked lips, he turned to notice that the five cobalt mannequins were seated at a nearby table, their necks swiveled at a 45 degree angle  as they stared directly in to Kram Toille's reddened eyes. 

It was only then that Kram remembered the argument he had with his wife and child earlier that morning when he was shaving with the antique cut throat razor that he had inherited from his great grandfather, Todd Sweeney, many years earlier.  He further remembered slashing the ear and throat of his daughter as the clung to his legs crying for her doll, and then leaping at his wife's neck, slashing her throat from ear to ear and slicing her left ear off and sticking it in her mouth as he shouted at the top of his voice  "you cant hear me now can you, you bitch, leave me alone to sing in to the mirror and get ready for work.. Hi ho Hi ho.....".

Back in the shop he slumped to the ground as the cobalt mannequins slowly surrounded him and raising their razors above their steely blue bodies, fell upon his body ripping his flesh and body to shreds.

The next day the street was blocked off with regulation police tape, as the local constabulary investigated the vicious murder of Kram's wife and child. As the day dragged on, a bored policeman strolled up the road and turned left at the intersection and glanced in to the window marvelling at the realism of the five cobalt blue mannequins and the blue stained, man sized leather hide, stretched out between them, secured at each corner by the vice like grip of the mannequins red stained hands.

Standing in the other window was Mr Octavius Willender hurriedly preparing a set of mannequins in what appeared to be a scene from a prison cell, with a hangman's rope hanging from the ceiling. As the policeman turned and returned to his spot on the pavement outside Kram Toille's residence he failed to notice that the figures in the second window were clothed in police uniforms and that the face of the mannequin directly below the rope had facial features amazingly similar to his own............................








Saturday, 25 May 2013

THE "MASH UP" OF WINYARD WASHINGTON BROWN!


THE "MASH UP" OF WINYARD WASHINGTON BROWN!

The day began with the standard procedure.

"Winyard" Washington Brown stretched his arms out and noted that his Donald duck clock indicated the time was 2.30pm and it was time to get up. Lifting his head from the pillow and swinging his legs to the right, his feet crumpled on the crisp scattered pages of the Daily mail.

 Rising to his feet he stumbled towards the door as was soon in the sodden zone, where last nights urine had turned the yellowed pages of the paper to a squidgy paper mache.   His feet being accustomed to this indignity carried forward, and soon the standard morning dump was in full flow. 

Half and hour later when the paper work was completed, he gingerly descended the staircase wondering if his mother was on the premises.

To his luck, she was at Bingo, and soon he was examining the contents of the “pot” to see if he had left any of today’s scheduled chicken dinner from his attack on the pot earlier that day, after stumbling through the front door in the early hours.      

Sufficient meat was left to satisfy his craving for food and soon he was fully dressed and contemplating the Sunday evenings full frontal attack on Mirabeau’s in Harrow.
The added bonus being that the following day was a Bank Holiday. 

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly and with his lift arriving on schedule he was soon imbibing within the mirrored walls of the bar.

He started his attack with standard lager but was determined to follow the consumption of copious amounts of lager and Vodka, with a fabled “Zombie” composing of dark, light and high proof rums, cherry brandy, orange juice, lemon juice and grenadine.

Prior to imbibing with his pint of Zombie Washington was already "charged", and arguing with the Horse, who himself had been drinking most of the day with Dr Doyle and Pat LVO Canney. Pushing his way to the bar, he clenched his fist around the glass and sipped the concoction.


His eyes widened and swivelled in their sockets revealing dirty white eyes, as he proceeded to down the contents of the large cocktail glass in one enormous flourish.

Having finished his libation, he slammed the glass on the bar and wiped his face and lips with the sleeve of his cheap "Wembley market" leatherette jacket. Letting out a large burp he turned to the assembled mass and declared that that was awesome and that he wanted another Zombie.

At this stage his knees gave way and he was escorted from the premises by the Horse, Dr Doyle and Maggie Hooligan, driver and  member of the Stonebridge massive . 

After a difficult and dangerous half an hour of carrying the crumpled body of Washington Brown to the waiting ford escort mark 1, Washington was deposited in to the back seat with Dr Doyle as his chaperon. 

Arriving at Stilecroft gardens, and parking opposite the Brown Residence, but slightly away from the curb, the three musketeers grabbed at Washington's lifeless body to try and dislodge the dead weight of the obese behemoth  from the vehicle.
At this moment his eyes opened and a yellow dribble seeped from the corner of his mouth.

However, he pushed away the assembled help, and pulled himself towards the car door.

As he lunged to remove himself from the vehicle via the off side front seat door, his feet got tangled in the old fashioned seat belt webbing, and he tumbled to the floor like a felled redwood smashing his nose to a red and yellow bloody mess on the road side curb.  

Screaming like a banshee he then rose to his feet and threatened doctor Doyle whilst pushing him across the Bonnet of a parked car. Meanwhile Hooligan had knocked at the door of Chateau Bruin and his mother  stood calling at her son to stop his mischief and come to her!. 

Washington then lumbered towards his doorway before passing through the portal and ascending the stairs to his bed and further oblivion, but only after spreading a copy of the Mail On Sunday across the floor of his bedroom.

Thus another legendary night had passed in the annals of the Mitorian brotherhood.



















Wednesday, 22 May 2013

THE DAY OF THE DUCK

                                         THE DAY OF THE DUCK

Recently in the London suburb of Harrow Weald, an assassination attempt was made on the President of the Duck Flat Cap Society, Driver Chard of El Hadj Duiff.

 The attempt was allegedly made by the militant underground organisation “The Wealdstone Alcoholic Teetotalers Society” (TWATS), due to anger over the blocking of License approval for a new Bordello, billiard hall and Absinthe Den, on the site of the derelict Red Lion.

 As the president's car passed the Duck in the Pond at a steady 20 miles an hour, Driver Chard’s unarmoured Ford Prefect was raked with machine gun fire and water bombs, but he and his good lady escaped without injury to return home for supper of luncheon meat, pickle onions and cream crackers.

TWATS leader “DJ Raj” and other members of the plot to assassinate Driver Chard are actively being pursued by former military hard man and sexologist, Basher Hurley DFS so that they may be captured and executed.  As head of security for the Duck Flat Cap Society, Basher has enrolled part time refuse collectors, Ray the Dust and Pepe le Puke, together with “Groundsman Barry”, to help in his  pursuit of the extremely dangerous and volatile DJ Raj.


The remaining TWATS leaders, now exiled in Newcastle upon Tyne have allegedly decided to make another attempt on Driver Chard's life, and have hired a professional British assassin who has chosen the code name “Skunk”. The assassin’s identity is a closely kept secret, but he is rumored to have been a drain cleaner and sewage operative in a former life, where he gained the nickname “Skunk”.

 Agreeing to the killer's demand of half a million US dollars and a years supply of deodorant for his services, the exiled TWATS leadership have ordered several Bar and Pound shop robberies to raise money and enable the purchase of the deodorant demanded by the "Skunk".

 Meanwhile, news has reached the “Death threat and Consumption” subcommittee of the Duck Flat Cap Society that the Skunk has begun to plan his assassination of the lightly-protected DFCS president.

He is rumored to have travelled to Liverpool and commissioned a custom-made rifle disguised as an oversize dildo, and fake identity papers. As a professional, he is alleged to have spared the reliable gunsmith, but has killed the forger who attempted to blackmail him with photos of an indiscretion involving an underage Labrador, a Churchill cigar and a pot of bees wax. 

Back in Harrow Weald , the "Skunk" is believed to have obtained a key to a flat that overlooks the Duck in the Pond, where he will attempt to assassinate Driver Chard during an evening parade that passes the Duck on June 5th, the anniversary of “D Day”.

The society has passed these details’ to the local police, the AA, RAC and Interpol, but as a precaution have engaged a Taxidermist to prepare Driver Chard's body for display in the Duck, if the assassination attempt is successful.

Further details will be published in due course. 

R.I.P   JOHN CHARD 1933 - 2020



Tuesday, 14 May 2013

MAJOR “RAY THE DUST” IN INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION GIG


MAJOR “RAY THE DUST” IN INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION GIG


Overweight failed karaoke singer and part time dust cart operative, Ray the Dust, has shocked the membership of the Duck Flat Cap Society by claiming that he is to record a version of “Mustang Sally” aboard the International Space Station.

The Dust claims that he will be assisted in this outrageous enterprise by his fellow dust cart side kick, “Pepe Sick Note Le Puke” and their corpulent companion “Good Boy Ince”.

The sad trio are currently preparing for their forthcoming adventure by bulking up on their weight and body fluids to ensure that they compensate for the weightless gravity of the space station.

Although believed to have retired from the seedy back room karaoke circuit, Ray the Dust has divulged to the Consumption and Aeronautical subcommittee of the DFCS that he has been secretly training for this event whilst recuperating from his latest bout of occupational “Stress” brought on by working for an indulgent and strenuous five consecutive days, by sunning his overweight lard arse on the Costa del Dust.

It is thought that having repaired his relationship with Sticky Vicky, the Dust has been slipping in to the bars and clubs of Benidorm, and sharing the stage with the septuagenarian temptress.

It is not known whether the would be astronauts have successfully secured their passage on the I.S.S, but Ray the Dust is adamant that a Kazakhstan businessman he met in Benidorm will smooth the way to their berths in the Russian Launch vehicle for the down payment of £5,000 and a copy of their forthcoming "You Tube" release, DVD,  CD , free downloading rights, and 10 minutes private access to Pepe Le Puke, a tub of lard and a pair of cucumbers.

The Duck Flat Cap Society is to monitor the progress of this outrageous scheme and will report further in due course.

Monday, 22 April 2013

RAY THE DUST IN CANNIBAL OUTRAGE AT THE DUCK


RAY THE DUST IN CANNIBAL OUTRAGE AT THE DUCK


Part time garbage operative and failed karaoke singer, “Ray the Dust” has been charged by the “Ethics and Carnivorous Activities sub section of the Duck Flat Cap Society with cannibalism.

In an outrageous attack on an old aged pensioner, "Ray the Dust" sank his putrid teeth in to the hind quarters of "Driver Chard of El Hadj Duiff" in full view of the clientele of the North West London public house. 

Driver Chard, acting President and Chairman of the DFCS, was bent double leaning over his displaced hat when the failed ladies man and crooner wrenched the grey haired geriatrics trousers from his body and sank his yellowed incisors in to the buttocks of the septuagenarian Fulham FC supporter.
Those seated adjacent to Driver Chard flew in to immediate action and successfully pulled the rotund and overweight behemoth from the rear quarters of the shell shocked Driver Chard.


Driver Chard quickly pulled his Fulham FC undergarments back over his bleeding hind cheeks and turned to gaze in to the eyes of the now rabid Ray the Dust.
Grabbing his furled umbrella in his right hand be brought the steel tipped gamp heavily down on the thinning and stained head of the failed pub singer, knocking him unconscious. 

Alerted by the commotion, the diminutive and portly part time driver “Pepe Le Puke” quickly sprang to the side of his felled compatriot and administered the Kiss of Life whilst administering life giving massage to the Dust’s genital area.

The Dust soon recovered and returned to his seat glaring at the Chard whilst copping a gleeful smile at his dwarf like fellow part time dust cart operative “Pepe le Puke”.  


The Duck Flat Cap Society will debate the Dusts outrageous behaviour at the next full meeting and have placed both the Dust and Pepe on notice that their membership will be up for close scrutiny in due course.


R.I.P   JOHN CHARD 1933 - 2020









Wednesday, 27 March 2013

DUCK FLAT CAP SOCIETY HIT BY FINANCE CRISIS


DUCK FLAT CAP SOCIETY HIT BY FINANCE CRISIS

At a recent explosive “extraordinary general meeting” Driver Chard revealed to Finance and Supping subcommittee, that in his capacity as vice treasurer and embezzler general, he had secretly transferred the Societies monetary reserves to a numbered bank account in Cyprus.

He further explained that in addition to transferring the societies cash deposits to the Cypriot banking system, he had also invested approximately seventy percent of the funds in a Russian Corporate entity specialising in money laundering for the Russian criminal elite. 

The final insult to the societies Finance and Supping subcommittee was the revelation that the septuagenarian silver haired ex military driver had forgotten the number of the account and also the name of the Bank that the funds had been transferred too, due to a bout of gout and an embolism brought on by excessive rich food and Metaxa 7 star brandy consumed whilst on the flight to Nicosia.   


At the end of the extraordinary meeting driver chard was bound by his arms and legs by the committee and deposited in the pubs cellar where he is to remain until a hit man can be arranged to deliver the appropriate coupe de gras to the sad eyed soon to be octogenarian.

Further details will be published in due course, in the Obituary section of local newspapers.

R.I.P   JOHN CHARD 1933 - 2020

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

FALKLAND ISLANDS ON RED ALERT AFTER ELECTION OF NEW POPE

FALKLAND ISLANDS ON RED ALERT AFTER ELECTION OF NEW POPE



The election of the new Argentinian Pope has placed the Falkland Islands on to a war footing as they expect imminent invasion by joint Papal and Vatican forces.

Driver Chard of El Had Duiff, failed candidate for the position of Pope, and acting chairman and president of the Duck Flat Cap Society is at this moment arranging a task force to sail to the south Atlantic for the protection of the Falklands.

More details in due course.