Written by dulcie gabbani

Sunday, 24 June 2018

image for Local aristocrat forced to travel on Megabus

Cheshire aristocrat, The Duke of Mottram (77) and his wife Lady Prudential (70) have finally been able to speak of the trauma they suffered last month, which involved having to endure a 90 minute journey on the budget coach service Megabus.

"The events of June 10th will live with us forever" said a shaken and emotional Duke, whose wife still endures regular nightmares and flashbacks from that fateful day. It is only in the last few days that the Duke has felt able to relate the events of that journey to our reporter.

"It all started so well", said the trembling aristocrat, gently dabbing his eyes with his monogrammed linen handkerchief. "We were going to visit my son, The Earl of Surrey, at his estate in Croydon, and were being driven there by Soames, our head butler, in the Rover 75 limousine. Everything was going to plan as we meandered through the pleasant country roads of Buckinghamshire, until we got to the outskirts of Milton Keynes, where we were rudely pulled over by a car belonging to the local constabulary".

"This policeman chappie was asking Soames some stupid questions about the car, such as "Is this your car sir ?".

It was at this point that the Duke appeared agitated and started wringing his handkerchief in a strangling motion.

"I'm afraid I had to intervene at this point, and shouted at the officer, "Of course its not his car. He's a butler for Gods sake. What butlers do you know that can afford a Rover 75 Limousine, you stupid man".

"It was at this point I was invited to exit the car, and asked to produce some form of ID"

"Do you know who I am" I asked in a semi sarcastic tone. After looking me up and down he rudely replied, "Not a fu**ing clue mate"

The Duke shuddered as he recalled the moment. "Mate" !!. I exclaimed, "Mate" !" How common is that"

The officer was then to convey some news to the travelling threesome, which would turn their journey into the trip from Hell.

"A check on your registration shows that this vehicle is currently being driven without any insurance or road tax. Unless you can prove otherwise 'mate', you wont be going anywhere in it, as we will have it impounded".

"Unfortunately, this was an error on my part", said the Duke. "I had lots of jobs around the hall to delegate, and it must have slipped my mind. However, we left Soames to deal with the car problem, as the officer was kind enough to convey us to Milton Keynes bus station, where he informed us we could catch something called a Megabus, which would convey us to London".

"My wife was a little put out by having to use public transport, as you are likely to meet ordinary or undesirable working class types, but she felt a little better when I assured her I would go the extra mile, and book First Class tickets with an evening meal".

The reality of travelling on a Megabus was actually very different to what they had expected.

The Duke asked if our reporter could return at a later date, as the memories of their journey had left him emotionally scarred and he felt unable to continue.

The following morning we were summoned to Wellwadded Hall and were informed that the Duke was well enough to continue his story, albeit with the help of a large glass of single malt whiskey.

"The policeman dropped us at Milton Keynes bus station, where I tried to book two first class seats, and book a table for two dining reservation for 8-30. The chap in the ticket office just chuckled insanely for a couple of minutes, and stated that he 'liked a bloke with a sense of humour', which I found odd, as I hadn't said anything vaguely humorous.

A few minutes later our bus arrived, and we boarded to find that there were only two seats available. My wife was sat near the back, and I got the last seat, which was adjacent to the toilet.

I immediately noticed the aroma of body odour and cold meat sandwiches, which made the bus smell like a charity shop in a heatwave. Despite my close proximity to the toilet I felt certain nobody would need to defecate on such a relatively short journey".

"How wrong I was."

"There was a never ending succession of people using the facility, and every time the door opened, one was accosted by some obnoxious odour which gave one the impression they had been eating dung. A glance in the direction of my wife showed that she had gone into some kind of trance like state, probably due to been sandwiched between two drunken men who were both asleep, one leaning on her shoulder and the other with his head in her lap".

"For some strange reason the chap I was sat next to, kept putting his hand on my knee and rubbing it slowly in a circular motion. I moved his hand away, but a short time later his hand was back again, and so this went on throughout the journey. I could only assume from his attraction to my leg that the man was one of those homosapians you hear about on the news".

"A form of musical entertainment was provided by a heavily tattooed lady sitting behind me who was playing something called 'drum n' bass' on her mobile phone. Now I can appreciate most types of music, but when its played at full volume through a speaker the size of a shirt button, it rather sounds like a cheap radio that's not quite tuned to the station".

"Finally after what seemed an eternity, we arrived in London, where we were met by my sons butler, Watkins. I managed to detach my wife from the two sleeping drunks that were twined around here, whilst leaving Watkins to recover our luggage. We emerged from the coach into sweet smelling diesel fumed air, only to find that our cases were not on-board, as the stupid policeman had neglected to porter our luggage from the police car to the bus back in Milton Keynes. All in all, an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy".

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

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Topics: Bus




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