Written by Big M
It had been a busy morning, what with the Night Nurses enjoying their first post lock down get together. It all went swimmingly until Big M knocked over a bottle of Shiraz, which managed to contaminate everybody’s uniforms. He had no excuse for the sudden lack of balance; he was only five pints in. Mark managed to steer him towards the door. “It’s orright, I’m ketchin’ the 3801” Big M slurred.
“That’s right, buddy, just wait for that big steam engine to pull up, then you’ll be on yer way.” Mark soothed as he dumped Big M onto the bus stop seat.
Foodge had been at the coffee machine all morning. He was desperate for a piss, I mean, micturition, so turned to ask Merv or Mervette to man the coffees. He suddenly realised he was alone, with a group of thirsty concreters bearing down on the bar. “Manne, Granny, O’Hoo, anybody??”
“O’Hoo popped his head around the corner. “What’s all of the yelling about?”
“Mate, I’ve been abandoned with a phalanx of thirsty tradesmen bearing down on me.”
“Well, you know that I can’t pull a pint!” O’Hoo tried to stand his ground but the concreters had made it to the bar. “Oh, fuck.” O’Hoo started pulling Trotters Best, all half beer and half foam.
“We aint payin’ for this shit.”
“All on the house.” Mumbled O’Hoo.
Thankfully Granny arrived on the scene. “What in the name of Gordon O’Donnell are you doing?”
“Tryin’ to help.” Muttered O’Hoo as he passed another half arsed pint across the bar.
Granny slipped behind the bar to expertly pour a couple of pints. “Okay youz blokes, happy hour is over so there’s no more free piss.” She quickly checked each tap. “O’Hoo, IPA and Stout need to be replaced, oh, and by the way, thanks for stepping in.”
O’Hoo raced to the cellar, where he was most at home. Foodge tugged on Granny’s sleave. “I’m desperate for a wee wee.”
“Hold onto yer water works for a minute. Where the bloody hell is that barmaid I’m payin’”
“Well, um, you can probably hear her.” Foodge was either going to have to hold onto his knob or micturated in the sluice.”
From the back of the pub. “Merv!”
“Merv!”
“Merv!”
“Merv!”
“Merv!”
“Merv!”
“Merv!”
“Merv!”
Granny located the source of the noise and tore open the storeroom door. She was horrified by the sight of a shaved, four legged, gorilla. She suddenly realised it was Merv and Mervette butt naked enjoying a conjugal visit. She was so angry she could barely speak. “Pull yer fuckin’ pants up and get outta my sight!”
Granny wandered back to the bar. “Are you still desperate for a Jimmy Riddle, Darling?” The sight of her lover had calmed her somewhat.
“Not now.” Foodge answered guiltily.
“Oh, Gordon O’Donnell help me.” Pleaded Granny.
“What can I do, dear?” Gordon appeared in the doorway of the Gents, busily trying to pull up his fly.
Granny’s eyes misted over as she tried to put her arms around Gordon, but finding nothing but air. “Now, Granny, you know that us supernatural beings don’t like to be touched. I’m aware of the problem and I’ve summoned my best man for the job.
Father O’Way suddenly appeared. “Where shall I start Granny, oh, perhaps I should deal with the smell of piss behind the bar?”
