Beau Peep Notice Board
Beau Peep Notice Board => Outpourings => Topic started by: Roger Kettle on February 05, 2010, 06:25:32 PM
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Friday 6.10 p.m.
My wife will be arriving home shortly with three of her friends from her university days. They are staying until Sunday morning and I'm under instructions to remain here in my office until they leave. Should I bump into any of them in the house (I'm allowed to go to the bathroom and kitchen) I am only permitted to speak if spoken to. I was supposed to go away for the weekend but I pointed out that I had some work to do and that I actually paid for the house.
Friday 6.20 p.m.
They have arrived. I greeted them briefly, as instructed, with my head down and mumbled an enquiry as to their journeys from various parts of England. I was dismissed at that stage and told to light a fire.
This could be a long weekend. Watch this space.
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Do you need a Red Cross food parcel being air-dropped?
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Do you actually have to wear a butler's uniform?
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Roger, Roger, Roger - how long have you been writing Andy Capp? All these years, and you've learned nothing.
Now, get in there and display your manhood!
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9.10 p.m.
Last contact was around 6.45. They have been in the dining room, eating lamb with something called couscous and drinking wine. Every so often, I hear banshee noises and glasses being clinked. I fear the worst.
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Roger, Roger, Roger - how long have you been writing Andy Capp? All these years, and you've learned nothing.
Now, get in there and display your manhood!
What did they think when you did this? Impressed, amused, laughed?
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9.10 p.m.
Last contact was around 6.45. They have been in the dining room, eating lamb with something called couscous and drinking wine. Every so often, I hear banshee noises and glasses being clinked. I fear the worst.
It's when you hear 'when shall we three meet again ....' that you have to worry.
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Saturday 12.45 p.m.
The contestants are in the living room. A proposed trip to St. Andrews has been abandoned due to the weather and has been replaced by what I can only surmise is a shrieking contest.
I have decided to tunnel out.
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Roger... it could have been a bank holiday weekend... you know, a long one...!
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How's the tunnel going?
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Chaps and Chapesses, I think we need to send a rescue party. I think Roger is trapped in his collapsed escape tunnel.
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No, Bill, he's fine... he's posted on the other thread.
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My claustrophobia took over and I abandoned the tunnel. It's now 11.35 p.m. and the laughter from the living room has become intermittent, although there are also occasional screams of "OH, NO! YOU'RE JOKING!"
I am very tired. I need sleep.
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Were you allowed to go to bed at all, or is it strictly Office/Bathroom/Kitchen only as your first post mentioned? Did you actually spend last night sleeping in the office? Or are you under instructions to stay awake until they leave on Sunday morning?
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No, Bill, he's fine... he's posted on the other thread.
What other thread? Is there some thread I'm not supposed to know about? I knew it - I'm missing something very devious here. What the heck, I'm going to bed.
Roger, don't go to sleep in the tunnel unless you have adequate ventilation, and supplies. You may get blocked in by the screamers.
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Inside the house, there is silence. Outside, I can hear birds singing again. I am smiling.
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What have you done with the bodies?
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Roger, the "shrieking contest" gave me shivers. What is it with that? It seems the older the friendships with these girls, the louder the shrieking gets. Heaven forbid you should make an apperance during the melee hoping for leftover morsels of food (there's never any). The cacaphony dies like the baddie entering the saloon, you turn tail and slink away to a muffled comment that you didn't quite hear and further waves of wailing.... Was that about me, or men in general?
Not that I've had any bad experiences with that sort of thing.
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Is that it? I log on here at 4 in the afternoon on a Sunday, and no one else (not even a 'Guest'). I don't know, what is the world coming to.
There's me slaving over a hot Beau Peep mug trying to make the most dangerous cake in the world - whoops, wrong thread.
Bye Roger. Hope you have recovered from the invasion.
Moving to 101 uses for a Beau Peep mug .....