Everything's Fine Dear
Years ago I remember hearing a sketch “All's going Well” with Frankie
Howerd and Margaret Rutherford. There are probably many variations on
the theme and I'm hoping this is my idea and not another, almost
forgotten version dragged up from the deep cellars of my memory.
It it is mine then the scene is a back garden with the
slightly dotty lady of the house talking to her husband on a mobile
phone.
MRS SMITH
Hello dear. How did the orientation day go?
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
That’s good. And you’re all ready for the interview? I'm sure you'll
get the job.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
Me? Everything’s fine here. I don't know what you mean by that tone in
my voice
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
Well all right then. The front garden wall collapsed. It’s nothing. I
can sort it out. You worry about the interview.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
I’ll get a builder around as soon as possible. I’ll get quotes for the
front lawn at the same time. Concentrate on the interview.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
No silly. A few bricks haven’t ruined the lawn. It’s the tyre tracks.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
The tracks from the lorry that knocked the wall down. Don’t worry about
it. Are you still preparing for your interview?
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
No, I won’t be able to pick you up tomorrow. The car needs a new
windscreen. It’ll have to be replaced before I can drive it.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
Some bricks fell on it. Don't worry. I'll call the windscreen people as
soon they're able to get to the car.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
They’ve already pulled the lorry back. The car got a couple of dents
but it doesn’t look too bad.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
No. The breakdown people can’t touch it until the builders say they can.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
It was pushed a little way into the living room and they want to check
the wall before the car's moved.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
Calm down dear. You’ll fail the interview if you let yourself get upset.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
They’ll move the car just as soon as they get those jack things in
place. Once the upstairs stops resting on it they’ll be able to pull it
out.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
Oh don’t be so melodramatic. Of course the house isn’t going to fall
down. They’re not even sure that they’ll have to pull it down.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
Please calm down. Screaming like that is not going to help. With the
house insurance and the compensation everything will be fine.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
You said that you were going to renew it. It was the night I dropped
your wallet in the waste disposal unit. You were upset then but you
definitely said that you wanted to be sure that it was done right.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
They did say that the lorry was stolen so it wasn’t insured. Is that
going to be a problem, dear?
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
All you have to do is calm down and do well in the interview tomorrow.
We’ll be all right with the extra money and we’ll have to move for your
new job anyway. It won't be so bad.
(PAUSE)
MRS SMITH
No it’s not the last straw and I’m not discussing a divorce while
you’re in this state. Call me back after the interview and you've got
the job.
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Prejudice
Over a period of time I have come to the conclusion that
only prejudiced people can prove that they are not prejudiced. I should
explain that I'm not referring to full blown, card carrying bigots but
to the vast majority of well meaning people who thinks it is a shame
that others are not as nice and as normal as they are.
Their prejudice is there and shows up in odd statements
like “He's very nice for one of them,” meaning “The rest of them are
not nice.” How about, “You wouldn't think he was one of them” leaving
the question, “what do you think they are really like?”
The real trouble comes because people are just trying to
live their own lives but they are being constantly bombarded by a mass
of conflicting propaganda. It rarely matches personal experience and
the result is conversations on the lines of:- 'They should all go home
but not that nice family down the road. You'd think they're English if
you talk to them'.
You get other strange conflicts.
At the moment, the newspapers seem full of Romanian
gangs flocking to this country to rob us and pillage the benefits
system. There might be some truth in it but Romanian seems to be the
new Paki; a derogatory term for Eastern Europeans and others from the
fringes of the EU.
The question for me is; If it is so bad for Romanian
gangs to be doing it, is it somehow all right for good old fashioned
British gangs to grab our money?
If I was at all cynical then I would suggest that
prejudice can be helpful in covering up the real problems. It's easier
to blame Romania than to start looking into the incompetence and
inefficiency of the offices involved.
The problem I have is that I don't think I am prejudiced
against anyone except druggies. I believe in an infinite god who
created an infinitely varied universe. You can't celebrate God if you
cannot celebrate and embrace the differences He created.
If I see a coloured person I see someone with a
completely different history and background to mine. If I show an
interest how do I prove that I'm not saying 'you're a foreigner in my
country'?
I can understand why nigger is so reviled but I can't
understand why Negro fell out of favour. Surely it refers to the
distinct features of the Negroid race? What's more it is easier to say
than 'of African descent'.
It seems to be a feature of the anti-bigotry industry,
find something wrong, no matter how obscure and change it. So, how long
will it be before African descent is shortened to AD and becomes
equally derogatory.
Maybe I'm denigrating efforts to end prejudice. I might
sound cynical again but it seems to me that success would put a lot of
people out of work. While they're justifying their existence the result
is an anti-bigotry industry that can be as bigoted as a conventional
bigot, though on the opposite side of the fence. I apologise for
overusing the word bigot but I really do not see much difference
between the two extremes.
One of the largest anti-bigotry industries is of course
the Women's Rights Movement. Again, firmly believing in diversity, I do
not believe that women are inferior but they are different mentally as
well physically. Extreme feminists seem to demand that these
differences are ignored so that men and women are treated equally.
In terms of intelligence and basic rights I agree but
what if the fight is taken too far? Are not feminists saying man is
perfect and we aspire to be like them?
It comes down to the question, is the prejudice real or
imagined? There is always a little rivalry between them and us. For
example, no one expects football fans to cheer on all teams equally.
I don't think that I have to agree with everyone.
Neither do I think that a little friendly rivalry is that harmful
though the the exception could be to do with sexuality.
I have long found sexuality less straight forward than
people assume. I've seen people declaring that they are completely
straight then become openly gay after a few drinks before going back to
being straight the next day. There's a whole range of relationships for
a writer to explore that are just ignored.
However some leave me uncomfortable. If I'm talking to
cross dressers is it prejudiced to admit that I'm not fond of the
packaging offering something different to the contents? Is it wrong of
me to protectively cross my legs when they talk about the ultimate snip?
When I'm talking to the girls, we talk about different
attitudes as well as host of other subjects. It is nothing more than an
exchange of ideas and the girls accept them as such. However taking
opinions or ideas out of context is probably the easiest way of proving
just about anything.
It was probably unfair of me to only accuse the
anti-bigotry industry of having an agenda. Taking a position then
defending it at all costs with a complete disregard for truth is a good
definition of politics.
Words taken out of context is just a minor casualty but
how do you speak honestly and openly without offending someone?
Recently I wrote a story about a group of cross dressers
caught up in a pub brawl. It contained a line about a couple of guys
who... ...did not like [their pub] being invaded by 'poofs, weirdos and
freaks'
Sarah, a cross dresser who partly inspired one of the
characters had no complaints about the story. More serious friends of
mine were concerned that the line could be taken out of context and
brand me as prejudiced and I am back to the problem of proving that I
am not prejudiced.
I have thought about it and decided there is another
group of people I don't want to be associated with – politicians. If
people can't see where my sympathies lie by the general tone of my
tales then it is their problem, not mine.
On another level, the next time I'm leaning against the
bar of my local and Sarah begins massaging my back, I won't smugly
think that I'm tolerating a slightly drunk cross dresser. I'll probably
think as I did last time. She's very good at it and I feel a lot more
relaxed.
Top of Page
An After Dinner Ramble
Some years ago I received a letter from America. It was a surprise
because I did not know anyone there and I had never done business with
any any American firm.
Like many people I stared at the envelop wondering who it was from
before deciding that the best way of finding out was to open it. In one
way it was a mistake because curiosity was replaced by bafflement as I
tried to take in the contents.
It was a pile of documents headed New York District Court, District of
New York. I managed to decipher them only to discover that I was suing
Sotherbys, the auctioneers.
Ploughing through the papers I found a reference to the Hornby trainset
I had sold through them nearly five years previously. More
significantly I found an acknowledgement that I would not have to pay
anything.
The case rumbled on for the next five years with just the occasional
letter from Sweden. Why Sweden I don't know. Maybe they had the
cheapest international postal service.
Finally it was all settled and I received a cheque. It was the first
dollar cheque that I had ever seen and it turned out that the bank
cashier had not seen many.
Since then I have received a number of dollar cheques and it always
felt good showing the cashier how to fill in their forms.
These later cheques were always preceded by a business contract
containing the line that we would all be bound by the laws of the State
of whoever I was dealing with resided.
The last one was Virginia.
If my brush with the New York District Court was surreal then these
contracts were ridiculous. Like verbal contracts, they were not worth
the paper that they written on. For the amounts involved there was no
way that I could go charging across the Atlantic to take on the other
party in a Virginian court.
Likewise there was no way that I could be hauled off to court for any
alleged breach on my part. We all operated in a spirit of trust and so
far, I have not been let down. The overall effect is that I take
paperwork in general far less seriously than I used to.
The last time I had any interest in the American legal system I was
just an interested observer. It involved SCO versus IBM, later SCO
versus Novell, followed by SCO versus anyone who might get them out of
the hole they had dug for themselves.
If SCO had won then it might have impacted on some of my activities but
even so I was branded as a Communist, anti Capitalist supporter of
terrorism. I did not feel badly about it since I was only one of
millions around the world. However the rantings of assorted lawyers,
senior business officials did keep me vaguely interested in the case.
So what was I doing that was so terrible? I use Linux and Open Source
software instead of Microsoft Windows products. Apple Mac may be upset
as well but there was no mention of them backing SCO.
More than one commentator on the case mentions FUD, creating fear,
uncertainty and doubt. SCO's case certainly seems weak for a $5 billion
dollar lawsuit.
Much of the case revolved around intellectual property rights and who
owned what. It was heard in Utah.
Apart from claiming to own computer code that was subsequently shown to
belong to others, SCO claimed that Open Source was against the American
constitution because it denied code writers exclusive rights. Since it
is owned by all then it was definitely communist.
Open Source is unfair competition because it's free. What business can
compete with that?
Because it is freely available on the Internet without licensing or
registration it can be downloaded and used by terrorists.
What amazes me is that a company could invest so much in a court case
on what proved to be such flimsy grounds unless its intention was
solely to spread FUD on behalf of Microsoft. Since it went bankrupt
even that idea seems equally flimsy.
Again the lawyers and judges took it all seriously as failed case piled
up against failed case. No one else did especially the Open Source
Community. I just sat back mildly amused at all the huffing and blowing.
It all reinforced the notion I've had for years. It's a waste of time
starting a claim and if you find yourself a defendant then forget about
the facts of the case. Find ways to wind the opposition up. The more
you confuse them then the better your chances are. It is certainly
difficult to imagine what else SCO were relying on and they had been
successful in the past.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I have only been able to test my
theory with parking tickets. In the last thirty odd years I've had four
or five of them. I have not had to pay one.
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Misdirection
Not being good at short stories,
I thought I'd have fun when
A writer's group I attend
Suggested we write about lust.
It was one of those times when
The story was complete in my mind.
It's about a twelve year old boy
Who is beginning the changes
That will turn him into a man.
With emotions more intense,
With feelings undreamed of before.
Aware of his new found strength,
He imagined pumping away,
To dominate his hearts desire.
It's strange, some worry about this tale.
Fear not. It's in their mind, not mine.
For with his birthday approaching,
How else would he wait for his new bike?
Revised 13/08/2011
Top of
Page
Girl's Night Out
Disclaimer
The
views expressed by the characters in this story are their own and do
not represent the author's views. They are included, along with the
strong language to provide a proper chronicle of the events depicted.
It was their regular girls night out, a chance to relax with friends
and have fun. At first the regulars found it difficult not to stare at
the bulging biceps, tattoos and severe masculine features. Some even
noticed their adam's apples. The girls accepted the banter aimed at
them, often giving as good as they got, so gradually, attitudes settled
down to a bemused acceptance.
The exceptions were a couple of guys who saw their pub as a bastion for
'real' men and did not like it being invaded with 'poofs, weirdos and
freaks'. Rather than go to the pub on ladies night they sat indoors
discussing what should be done about it.
“We've got to do something otherwise we'll have Blacks, Pakis and all
sorts of foreign muck in there,” Joe said, tucking into his chicken
vindaloo and Danish lager.
Normally they would have done what red blooded macho men do when
they're spoiling for a fight. They would have got steadily drunker
while plotting more and more outlandish ways of getting rid of the
girls. However on that particular night one of their friends arrived
mid session.
Black Harry had spent the last twenty four hours in police custody
being questioned about stolen credit cards. If he had been suspected of
murder or assault it would not have been so bad but credit card fraud
was a bit white collar and did not fit in with his image.
He needed to re-establish himself in front of his cronies and clearing
out a pub to make way for themselves seemed a good way of doing it. He
made a few phone calls and soon had a group of mates gathered together.
As they entered the pub, Black Harry saw a number of the regulars
already settled in. He also noticed the CCTV cameras and that the
landlord was already eyeing them suspiciously. He quietly stood
chatting to his mates about football and the new phone that he was
going to buy.
He noticed one of the ladies searching her bag for cigarettes and
matches and without making it too obvious they all drank up.
They all reached the door together and even before they were outside
the jostling and the insults began. Louisa glanced at Black Harry and
saw the look in his eyes. She was a striking girl, petite, a natural
blonde, stylish with a relaxed quiet manner. All she saw in Black
Harry's eyes was vicious malevolence and she shuddered before returning
to her table.
Black Harry led his gang outside, laughing triumphantly at their first
victory.
Louisa had seen something else in Black Harry. Lust. It was not
heterosexual or homosexual but a deep desire to control, humiliate and
dominate. He saw Louisa as a natural target and she knew that he would
now go after her until he had won.
If nothing else, they would keep coming to the pub. Black Harry would
encourage his gang and their friends to play up, driving out the
quieter regulars, changing its character.
The gang showed no signs of dispersing but they were not doing anything
wrong. Maybe they were a little boisterous, a little noisy, making the
odd insult just loud enough for the girls to hear.
Instead of sitting down again, Louisa stood quietly, coming to a
decision before kicking off her high heels, bending to reach her tight
fitting skirt and ripping it along the seams so that it did not
restrict her movements.
As Major Lewis Stevenson, SAS he was used to reading people. It had
kept him alive during tours of Afghanistan and Iraq, helping him to win
the Military Cross and three Mentions in Despatches. He had been tired
when he had received his honourable discharge, tired of the horrors of
war and tired of living up to his families expectations.
Lewis/Louisa liked what she had become and was not going let some yobbo
spoil it. She was almost looking forward to the fight. For once, she
was defending her freedom, her way of life and her right to choose.
As Louisa prepared herself, Wendy stood up to join her. She was a
little shorter than average, overweight and as a man outrageously camp.
As a woman she was just outrageous, almost a caricature of a cross
dresser.
Most of the regulars who normally laughed at her antics were surprised
that she was not rushing hysterically around yelling that they were all
about to be killed. Instead, they saw the steely glint and her look of
determination.
With varying degrees of reluctance, the other girls stood up to support
their friends as Louisa led the way outside.
The noise subsided as the louts turned to face the girls.
“Let's not have any trouble, lads.” Louisa said quietly, “Let's go back
inside and I'll buy you all a drink.”
She noticed that a couple of the lads started to step forward, ready to
accept but stopped when Black Harry did not move.
“Fuck you.” he snarled, “I don't want a fucking freak like you buying
me a fucking drink.”
“OK. How about going home so we can enjoy our drinks.”
“Fuck you.” Harry snarled again, “You fucking freaks should be locked
away. You fuck off.”
It was stalemate, the tension was almost physical and Wendy could not
contain herself any longer.
“All this talk of fucking me is making me horny,” she simpered, “How
about that alley, babe?”
Harry glared at her. At first it was just shock and then a terrible
anger flooded through him. He lunged forward.
No one can describe exactly what happened next. It was all so fast but
suddenly Black Harry was lying on his back with Louisa's foot in his
armpit and her hands grabbing his wrist twisting it painfully.
“Ow you're breaking my arm.” Harry wailed plaintively, “Get him off.”
The rest of the gang moved uncertainly forward, unsettled by their
leader's unexpected defeat. The girls also advanced, reassured by their
champion's success.
One of the lout's nerve failed him. He turned and ran. It was enough
for his mates. They also turned and fled while the girls charged
triumphantly forward.
“Someone hold him.” Louisa commanded in full military mode. Wendy
flopped down on top of him as Louisa tried to round up the rest of the
girls. It was as well that she did. The girls had caught up with some
of the louts and the noise was attracting attention. The emergency
service was getting strange calls about groups of angry women setting
about poor defenceless youths.
When the police went to the pub, all they found was a group of cross
dressers, perhaps a little flushed and excited, helping Louisa to pin
up her skirt. They checked the area and found a number youngsters
hurrying home sporting black eyes, cuts and bruises, too ashamed to
admit who had got the better of them.
Wendy's idea of holding Black Harry had been to kneel across him,
straddling his shoulders. On one level he had nightmares about
incredibly large pairs of pink knickers surrounded by amazingly thick
legs descending towards his face to suffocate him or - considering what
the knickers contained - something far worse. Winded when his back hit
the ground, and with one arm still useless he waited helplessly as
Wendy cheerfully explored his chest, stomach and even down inside his
underwear.
Wendy's ample back hid what was going on from the public while some of
the regulars stood at the door looking on. They were glad that the
louts had been dispersed before they had to leave. Though they would
never admit it, they were enjoying the unfolding drama.
The regulars always enjoyed a little shocked embarrassment at Wendy's
antics though this scene was special. Always one to play to an
audience, Wendy could not help displaying something she had discovered.
She unzipped Harry's trousers and worked his underwear down a little to
show that, at a baser level, Harry was actually enjoying her
ministrations. He knew that his body had betrayed him. When word got
out it would destroy the macho image that his friends expected. It was
his most most humiliating experience of the night.
He left town, was never seen again and there was no more trouble at the
pub on the girl's night out.
Hi Peter.
Tee Hee. I
had a friend about four years ago. An ex-SAS chap. ( well as Ex as you
can get in that line of work), And He was a T-Girl.
Used to get out and about
in Woolwich and Plumstead, Getting into all sorts of trouble. So this
actually sounds closer to reality than you knew when you penned it!.
xx
Sarah B
Top of Page
WW111 in 500 words
Introduction
Anyone who has ever sought advice over writing a short story has been
told that you can always find unnecessary words and remove them.
So how far can you take that advice?
The original challenge was to write a complete story on a large topic
in 500 words. I may have cheated by making it a play instead of an
essay but why not? Minimalism is minimalism and we've all seen the
basic format of a reporter talking to the studio from the scene of
events.
The finished play is 450 words. So yes, you can always shorten a short
story.
The
Play
Stage left – Anchorman. Stage right – David.
Lighting dim. Spotlight on character speaking.
Anchorman
The Department of Defence in Washington has confirmed that a
thermonuclear device was detonated over Northern Iraq at approximately
1a.m. EST this morning. All communications from the area are badly
disrupted and as yet there are no details of casualties.
Our Washington correspondent is David Bartlett. David what is the
reaction over there?
David
There's a real sense of confusion, even panic, John. The White House
issued a brief statement saying that the full might of the United
States will be deployed to protect it's interests and it's allies in
the area.
As you know the European stock exchanges closed within half an hour of
opening with prices in free fall. London is faring little better and
there is real concern about what happens when the New York Stock Market
opens.
With fears of other attacks on major oil producing centre there's talk
of oil reaching $1000 a barrel.
Anchorman
So how will the White House react?
David
The President left by helicopter a little while ago with a large
contingency of senior staff. Junior staff appear to be leaving by car
at high speed.
Unconfirmed reports from the Pentagon suggest that an area in Southern
Russia has been attacked.
We're relying on the same news agency reports as you. The Russian
premier has announced that Russia will resist any incursion to it's
sovereignty be they rebel units of their army or foreign governments.
There is concern that...
Pause
Anchorman
David we seem to have lost contact. Can you hear me.
David
Yes but there is a lot of interference. To add to the administrations
problems Washington now has a power cut following a bright flash to the
North. Stand by for a moment...
A fellow reporter from the mid west was talking to his studio. It was
reporting that multiple rocket launches have occurred from silos. He
has now lost the satellite link with them.
Curtain left closes. Anchorman gone.
Anchorman (cont.)
Fears are growing the flash we saw was an attack on New York as
reprisal for the destruction of two Russian cities and that the United
States has retaliated in force.
Do you have any more information in the studio?
Hello London can you hear me. John, are you there? Is anyone there?
In case you can still hear me...
Aargh another flash, I can't see. Why no sound of the explosion?
How far away wa...
Curtain closes completely.
Off Stage (otherworldly)
Most people died unaware that a war had started. Dust from the
explosions enveloped the planet in a cooling shroud. Radiation and cold
finished what the bombs began. Earth finally found peace.
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