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Tuesday, 1 November 2011

image for H.P. Sauce. By Armfeetandtoe Chapter 1 Arthur listens to Aida

Arthur Blanket rose from his fireside chair, and made toward the bottle of brown ale that stood on the sideboard.

As he past the coal fire, gently burning in the grate, he let go a posturn blast, that stoked the flames, and singed the hair on his worn out slippers.

"Bolocks!" Cried Arthur, stamping out the flame engulfed house shoes. "That fuckin curry has ruined me".

Stout, carefully poured into his favorite vessel, Arthur returned to his chair, and continued to read his newspaper while balancing the pint glass on his knee.

The sitting room door opened, and in walked Mrs Blanket. Before she could speak, the rush of cold air had reached Arthur's nostrils, and he sneezed, sending the beer flying and his newspaper into the flames.

"You dozy old git!" Shouted Mrs Blanket.

"What the fuck did you do that for!?" Cried Arthur, as he attempted to retrieve the now half burnt newspaper.

"Don't you shout at me Arthur Blanket, I'm not ere to earhole your bludy insults, you lazy drunken pig"

Arthur turned to his wife. "Aida, we bin married forty yers, we ave lived in this house, for twenty yers, when are you going to learn, not to open that fukin door so quick! When the fires in the grate!?"

Aida, reached for the horse brass hanging on the wall.
"Swear at me agin, and your be wearin this brass!"

"Now then, Aida, you know I have a bad back, put the brass down and dont be a silly cow" Pleaded Arthur as he hid behind the huge green sofa.

"Right!" Said Aida, as she straightened her back. "Get your belt dun up, and take me to the pub, Mrs Monteroy wants me to ave a look at her boils".

Arthur and Aida donned thier hats and coats and made thier way to the Pig and Pen public house.

As they entered, a chorus of voices greeted them.
Aida sat at her usual seat, and Arthur went to the bar.

"A pint of wollop and a gin for the misses please Sid".

Sid, barman and Landlord, placed the drinks on the bar.
"Evening Art, wot you brung the trouble an strife for?"

Arthur dropped his head. "Leave it out Sid, she nearly crowned me earlier, if it finds out I was in here earlier, I'm in the Tom tit mate, make no mistake"

"I see, better tell Dozey Don to keep his north an south shut cos you know he's gonna dribble on ya". Warned Sid.

"Forgot all abart him, fuckin worse than Loose Lip Larry, better give her the gin, she might start gobbing". Said Arthur, as he made his way over to Aida and Mrs Monteroy.

"Well, I never liked her, she looked like a dray horse in drag, Mrs Monteroy, not that I want to speak ill of the dead if you please, but".......Aida was interupted by the presence of Arthur.

"Here you are love" Said Arthur, as he placed Aida's drink in front of her. "Evening Mrs Monteroy, do you want me to get you another Aida in case it gets crowded?"

"Yes, an you can get Mrs Monteroy a sherry while your at it, dont be all day" Scowled Aida.

Arthur strolled over to the bar, leaving the chattering women behind him, "Dozy old bint" He murmured to himself".

Loose Lip Larry was at the bar to greet Arthur.
"Allo old chum, ows it hanging? you had a skin full this morning, I thought you were painting that house in Newport terrace, wot appened, run out of paint!!".

Arthur stepped close to Larry. "Shut up you mug!" Hissed an irate Arthur. "If the ball an chain finds out, me bottle an glass wont touch the fuckin bed tonight, got it?"

"Sorry Art, I was only avin a giggle wiv yer" Said a now meek and sorry Loose Lip Larry.

The evening in the Pig and Pen moved and swayed on it's merry way, as usual. Someone got on the piano and played the singalong tunes the whole pub knew and loved.
Arthur played the attentive husband, making sure Aida and, (That fukin ponce) Mrs Monteroy, had full glasses throughout the evening.

At a quarter to eleven, Sid, the Landlord, rang for last orders at the bar, this was done, to flush out any snide coppers that might be mingling with the crowd. At ten to eleven, he would bolt the doors, the usual crowd would be locked in, until they had run out of money, or he had run out of beer and gin.

Arthur, now holding onto the bar, did not see Dozey Don enter the saloon, and make straight for Aida.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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