Sunday 6 November 2016

The Absolutely True Tale Of Fishy Fishface. Chapter Four.

Here is the last part of Fishy Fishtale. It has rather drifted away from being a children's book.

Chapter four.

But what about Cecil Bigbotty? What became of him I hear you ask? Well, I was just getting to that bit. What happened was… Hold on a sec, should there be a colon, a semi colon or a comma after what happened was? I’m not sure. To be honest I’m not much good at punctuation. I shall stick with comma. I always think these colon things are a little bit pretentious truth be told. So yes. Err… What happened was, after Cecil Bigbotty had sent the last walkie-talkie message he wondered why Albert Wisselbum didn’t answer. So, he called him again. “Bigbotty to Wisselbum. Are you receiving me? Over.”
When there was still no answer he called him again. “Bigbotty to Wisselbum. Are you receiving me? Over.”
And again. “Bigbotty to Wisselbum. Are you receiving me? Over.”
And again. “Bigbotty to Wisselbum. Are you receiving me? Over.”
And again. “Albert, it’s Cecil. Are you there, mate? Come in. Over.”
And then with a growing feeling of dread, “Albert? Did you get washed away by a big wave? Over.”
When there was still no answer and after remembering to sign off with, “over and out,” he gave up calling, decided his friend and colleague was probably dead and went home. Well, it was raining heavily so you can’t blame him, it had been a long day. When I say, he went home, that is not strictly true. Read on and you will be enlightened.

We know that Albert Wisselbum isn’t dead. Far from it. Indeed, here he is opening the front door to his house. He is cold, wet, hungry and in need of a comforting hug from Mrs Wisselbum. Maybe more than a hug, maybe a cuddle if he can find the strength. Although, that is not likely to happen for, although he was loathe to admit it, Mrs Wisselbum had been rather unresponsive to his advances lately. More than lately if the truth be told. But Albert hoped that when she saw what a sorry state he was in, his beloved wife would soften towards him, even if only temporarily and he would be allowed to… “I am home dearest,” he called. There was no answer but he could see a light was on upstairs. Wearily he climbed the stairs. The light was on in the bedroom. He turned the door handle and walked in saying, “I am home my dearest one.”
Oh, the shock, the horror, the dismay, Albert must have felt when he saw sitting there in his bed, as though he owned the place, not his beloved wife, but his friend and work colleague Cecil Bigbotty. Yes, sitting there, comfortably propped up on Albert’s very own feather pillows and smoking a pipe too. Albert Wisselbum Esquire was not going to stand idly by and let such a thing happen. Not in his bed. No, never. He would not tolerate such an outrage. “HOW DARE YOU?” he shouted in large capital letters, “HOW DARE YOU SMOKE IN MY BED?”
Just then Mrs Wisselbum appeared from the en-suite bathroom. She was stark naked and seemed astonished to see her husband standing there in his hi-vis health and safety jacket with the stuck zip. “Albert,” she cried, “thank God! You’re alive.”
“Never mind that,” said Albert, “What is Bigbotty doing in our bed?”
“Oh Albert, you silly old billy, don’t be reading anything into this situation. I simply told Cecil he must rest up. He has had such an awful day and when he told me you were dead I felt it only right that I should offer him some hospitality.”
“Why are you naked?” inquired Albert, “why don’t you have any knickers on?”
His wife smiled lovingly at him, “Albert Wisselbum, you have such a suspicious mind. If you must know, I am just getting changed for yoga. In case you have forgotten, it is Thursday. My yoga night.”
Cecil Bigbotty got up out of the bed and Albert Wisselbum saw that he was also stark naked and he couldn’t help noting that Cecil’s willy was bigger too. Men tend to notice little things like that. Or in this case, bigger things.
Albert became angry again. “And I suppose he is getting ready for yoga too?” he said sarcastically.
“His clothes were soaking wet Albert and I insisted he take them off so I could put them in the tumble dryer,” said Mrs Wisselbum, “and I think you should get your wet things off too before you catch your death of cold. Now come on, let me help you my dear”
Albert was rather moved by this caring gesture from his wife and with her help he could extricate himself at last from the hi-vis health and safety jacket with the stuck zip. Mrs Wisselbum took the soggy hi-vis health and safety jacket and put it in the en-suite bath to drain the water from it. She then went back into the bedroom and soon Albert too was stark naked.
Albert looked at Cecil Bigbotty standing there naked. He looked at his wife standing there naked. He looked at himself standing there naked and he suddenly heard himself saying, “Anyone fancy a threesome?”

Afterwards, while the men were both enjoying a post coital nap Mrs Wisselbum went to retrieve Albert’s hi-vis health and safety jacket with the stuck zip from the bath. As she picked it up she became aware of a flapping and fluttering from one of the pockets. Not wanting to put her hand in she carefully turned it upside down over the toilet bowl. Out fell Fishy Fishface, plop into the water. Mrs Wisselbum let out a screech, “Eeeeek!” In her shock, she flushed the toilet. Poor Fishy Fishface. This had not been his day at all.





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