Zen Stand Up Comedy PDF

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Eugene Binx
Contents
Chapter One - Auntie Knows Best.................................................................................2
Chapter Two - The Natives are friendly ......................................................................11
Chapter Three - The opening of the Two Buttocks .....................................................20
Chapter Four - Xmas is for giving ...............................................................................27
Chapter Five - Three Comedians and a Funeral ..........................................................45
Chapter Six - Back to Work.........................................................................................56
Chapter Seven - The out of Towners ...........................................................................60
Chapter Eight - Valentines Day Fiasco ......................................................................74
Chapter Nine - Enter Mr. Patel Centre Stage...............................................................90
Chapter Ten - Three Comedians and another Funeral, but the Show must go on. ....103
Chapter Eleven - Hello Sailor ....................................................................................114
Chapter Twelve - What a Difference a Week Makes ................................................137
Chapter Thirteen - No Free Lunches .........................................................................147
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Zen and the Art of Stand-up Comedy
Chapter One - Auntie Knows Best
Ernest and Katie Needle were both at work; the fact that it was a Friday
would lead them through their routine for the day and carry them into their
weekend. They had both started work in McNaughtons London Brewery
during the Swinging Sixties. Now heading towards retirement they moved
like cogs within a giant machine. Having to pass a fish and chip shop on his
way home from work and a local pub reminded Ernest, that God did at least
create a perfect World for him.
Katie was married to a merchant seaman when she first started in the
wages office; they had married young and he had enjoyed sex on a global
scale before it killed him. She was hard and had wasted no time in next
marching Ernest up the steps of the local registry office. The fact that he was
shortly to inherit his hospitalised mothers house was the biggest turn on to
be had within the brewery workforce. Katie had still lived at the time with
her large family, all-waiting for Sinbad as they called him to return bearing
gifts; he never did. So she instead had to suffer Ernest.
The old horn that brought the day shift to a close caused the usual Friday
jokes. Katie would make her way home ahead of Ernest, as she was office
staff; tonight however having to consider a pleading phone call she had
received that day from her sister.
Katie knew how to tell her husband of the call. She would just wait until
he was stuffing his face with the Friday night carrier bag full of stodge from
the chip shop, washed down with a large bottle of McNaughtons Light Ale.
With his short concentration span, if she talked slowly enough, he would
never know what he had agreed on.
Her plan worked, Ernest was only alerted to the news that their Nephew
would be in the East End the next day and how nice it would be to see him,
but not that Nineteen-year-old Norman Smith was to be their first lodger. In
fact, he would be the first person ever to invade the private world of Ernest
and Katie. Norman had been adopted by Katies sister Lucy and husband
Frank Junior Smith. He had been found during the clean up after a rock
festival. The Police could not be sure if he was abandoned or his Parents had
just got stoned and forgot they had a baby, possibly wandered back to the
wrong tent and started another life. He was rapped in a patchwork quilt
made up of rock star portraits, as the centrepiece was Frank Zappa the Police
named him Frank. That name caught the attention of Frank Junior Smith as
he toured an orphanage with wife Lucy some years later, looking for a son
and heir to their Council flat in Birmingham. Lucy however insisted on the
Eugene Binx
name change, so Norman Frank Junior Smith was reborn out of

compromise. Ernest would annoy Katie by referring to their nephew as
Glastonbury.
The cause of Norman now being shipped off to London was of, A rather
delicate nature, Lucy had explained. Norman has been having improper
relations with our next door neighbour and only whilst her husband is away
fighting in Her Majestys Armed Forces!
Isnt that treason? asked Katie in a startled tone.
No, but it would be if my Frank was King.
The couple embarrassed by Normans actions and fearing a quick end to
the war gave him two choices; he fancied the staying alive one. Lucy had
even offered Katie money knowing that would appeal to Ernest.
Following on from his Friday night stodge, Ernest fell asleep in his easy
chair. He was a thin short man, untidy dark and grey hair, with a dress sense
with which he would have looked at home in a silent movie.
Katie dozed off in their bed upstairs. This was always the prelude to
Friday night out at their Friday night local, which involved just coming out
the front door and turning right. Unlike their Saturday night out at their
Saturday night local, which involved just coming out of their front door and
turning left.
From 9 oclock they took part in a real old East End knees up, Ernest
loved it. Katie played cards with the ladies from the office; however this
night she thought long and hard about how life might be with Norman the
Nephew in tow. The evening slipped by as usual, Paddy the pub landlord
pleading with Ernest later-on to make his way, Down the yellow chip road
and not to take sweets from strangers, only money. Paddy always used the
law as his excuse to close.
Once back home Katie and Ernest were soon tucked up in bed, he
comatose, she now panicking about the dawning of the next day that would
bring the end to their timeless and exclusive routine. She did eventually fall
asleep only to wake to the sound of her alarm clock.
It was 9am the start of Katies Saturday morning two-hour bathroom
makeover. She was still an attractive woman and loved this time of each
week like no other. She pampered herself and sometimes in a sexual
manner. In the bath she heard and felt their door buzzer. It sounded like the
ones used on the old television quiz shows. Ernest on hearing it buzz and to
his amusement only would shout out the answer to an imaginary quiz
question, Aborigines, he shouted loudly as he made his way to the door.
Katie, curious as to why so much conversation was taking place, got out
of the bath. She slithered still wet and soapy into her silk-look dressing
gown. Her head appeared round the bathroom door, from where she could
look straight down the stairs. Strange at first she thought, No daylight
showing up the damp patches on the flowery wallpaper; was the front door
open, she strained to see beyond the cowering frame of Ernest.
As if wedged into their doorway, Katie saw an almost rectangular shape.
Without her glasses she squinted long and hard before making out the
smiling face of a young man near the top of the doorframe. Who is it
Ernest, she enquired in her haughty tone.
Says he is to lodge with us! came his shocked reply.
With firmness now in her voice, Katie instructed Ernest to show his
Nephew Norman into the Front Room. I will be down shortly, she advised
the pair of them. On returning to the bath, the noises from below as the men
attempted to close the front door, open the front room door and move
Normans enormous suitcase, gave her much cause for concern; she sighed.
As Katie reached the bottom of the stairs, she caught sight of Ernest
waving frantically from the safety of their lounge-dining room. He gestured
it was time he escape to the pub; after all it was what he did Saturday
mornings if he was not at work. Avoiding eye contact he hurried out through
the back door, leaving it open to lesson the condemnation of his actions.
Katie was pleased to see the back of him; she made her way to greet
Norman. There in the front room, time had stood still since Ernests Parents
had only once decorated and furnished it.
We should open this room to the public at weekends, remarked Katie.
You would need wheelchair access though, replied Norman.
She laughed, I can tell we will get on like a house on fire, do you
smoke?
Yes please, he said
Do you drink?
Just a sherry at Xmas.
Funny, thats not what your Mother told me, I guess Ernest was of no
help with that suitcase. Hes a right lazy so and so, but harmless.
In the modest comfort of the front room, Katie and Norman drew hard on
their cigarettes in almost a tribal manner. She explained that only her good
self made the house rules. His room was at the front of the house, next to
theirs, but not to worry, he would not hear any cries of passion coming
through the wall. His guided tour of the house included the outside toilet,
Eugene Binx
where he was informed, Thats the gents. Katie had even more startling
revelations; she explained how during the summer months the brewery took
on temporary staff. Norman would start on Monday. However, she admitted
that he would need to pass himself off as a student, Company policy,
sorry, she said excusing herself, as she pointed to the whereabouts of snack
food before going off to her room.
Having dressed for her weekly maintenance trip to the graves of her Late
In-Laws, Katie waved to Norman, See you for tea time and just ignore
Ernest. Her words relaxed him; he settled into an armchair in front of their
big old television set in the back lounge diner and fell asleep.
Just like the classic fictional drunk, Ernest fell through his back door at
3.30. Norman was startled but did not show it, on account of his size he re-
acted slowly to most things in life. Ernest stumbled round him as if he was a
new piece of furniture and made his way up the stairs, Alright; I Must ave
forgot you was coming to stay, excuse me Im suffering from terminal
laziness, being the only conversation he managed.
Katie returned at 5 oclock. Norman was asleep, but woke with her
presence in the room as she handed him a cup of tea and explained the
routine for the rest of the weekend. The evening meal as they called it was at
7 oclock; a meat and veg affair, no pudding, McNaughtons Light Ale to
wash it down for the boys and tea for her good self. This would be followed
by tea all round as a final stomach liner before their big Saturday night out.
Norman went off to his room. He now unpacked and tried to feel fully at
home. Lying on the old double bed he gazed at a new world to him. This
was a real afternoon television movie set he thought and perhaps Richard
Burton would suddenly walk into the room. After much thought, he heard
Katie calling out, Grubs up. Ernest must be conditioned to this routine
thought Norman as he heard him stir and make his way down the stairs to
the dining table.
Norman a touch nervous followed on. As he joined the others a chair
awaited him at the table, opposite Katie. Never ad a lodger before, said
Ernest.
Nor me, replied Norman. That was all the conversation that took place
over that meal.
After a couple of hours of watching television in silence Ernest went
upstairs to put his Saturday night suit on. Katie passed in her Saturday outfit
joined Norman on the sofa, You will come, she said.
Sure, he replied, wanting to fit in. He had not changed his clothes since
arriving, but his look passed the Katie test or he would have been told.
When the three of them set off, it was of course out the front door turn left
night, Ernest walked out in front leaving the others to walk side-by-side and
even break the usual silence.
Ernest has taken being a lert too literally, pointed out Katie to Norman
as she laughed.
As they entered the Prince of Wales pub it was as usual, busy and noisy
with a happy locals atmosphere noted Norman. At first the crowd went into
a bit of a whisper mode. They thought Norman was on his own and his size
caused concern to the landlord Charles, If he gets pissed, you can throw
him out, said Charles son Churchill as he pulled a pint for Ernest.
Suddenly Norman was being introduced by Katie to one and all. This would
be the theme of the evening, as curiosity brought over even those that
preferred to socialise in their private clusters.
Welcome to the Prince of Wales, I am Charles the landlord of course and
the peoples true Prince of Wales, bellowed a man in his sixties perched at
the end of the bar watching all. His beer gut sitting proudly on the counter in
front of him.
Ernest rose to the occasion like a proud father. It had always been Ernest
and Katie, now there were three of them by default and Ernest was even
more contented. At first Norman was taken off to sit with his Uncle and
some brewery workers. Katie joined her lady friends in a booth, for cards
and gossip. As the evening de-generated somewhat Norman got the chance
to socialise, no longer under the proud, yet restricting glances of his
newfound guardians. First to monopolise him was Nancy Trollope, this
caused many heads to turn. Trollope by name, Trollope by nature,
remarked Katie. The comments addressed to Ernest at his table were pure
filth on this subject.
Nancy was attractive; she worked in the same office as Katie. She was
most kindly referred to as the merry widow. Her late husband Dick had been
killed in a tragic accident at the brewery, where he also had worked. He was
most well remembered for buying vegetables from the local market, then
giving them away to the bosses at the brewery as his home grown. This
along with his name and the circumstances of his death provided a constant
source of sick humour, not only at the brewery but also at the local pubs.
Even this night a pal of Ernests commented, Pity your nephews not called
Dick, Nancy still loves her dick.
Nancys house backed on to Ernest and Katies, just separated by their
small back gardens and the lane that ran the length of the streets. This meant
of course with Ernest and Katie sleeping in their backroom and Nancy in
hers, the merry widow had few secrets and no vegetable patch. A pair of
Eugene Binx
binoculars once used for nights at the local dog track provided both Ernest
and Katie separately with many hours of adult entertainment.
The Prince of Wales pub operated flexi-time on a Saturday, so landlord
Charles informed his customers throughout the evening. As long as you
spend, we serve, he croaked on noticing the till had gone silent. He and
Churchill would take it in turns serving and stayed open all hours.
Katie thinking that it all might be a bit much for Norman on his first night,
gathered up first Ernest by the scruff of his collar and then Norman more
politely as the clock struck Mid-night. Ernest was in a state of shock
walking home sober for the first Saturday night in his life possibly,
Everything looks strange, he said. Katie wasted no time in giving her
nephew the facts of life talk with the substitution of the birds and the bees
for a somewhat more graphic Nancy theme. Ernest developed a new saying,
Thats right, your Auntie knows best, he said in a pure grovel tone. The
three bid the local chip-shop owner goodnight as they passed by. I love that
chip shop, blurted out Ernest, as if he was making a confession.
I know dear and the chip shop loves you, replied Katie.
As the three entered their home, Katie was also confused to be home so
early and sober on a Saturday night. She announced to Ernest she would be
taking a long un-interrupted bath, followed by an early night with her
romantic novel, which would be finished tonight and also without
interruption; then she wished Norman goodnight.
Ernest seemed relaxed and contented to have company. He sat in his
favourite armchair; poured McNaughtons Ale for the two of them and
stretched his braces. Blokes at work reckon this is a right affidavit if you
drink enough. he said.
Do you mean aphrodisiac uncle?
Yeah thats it. Do you like Chas and Dave?
Dont know them, replied Norman.
Gertcha, sounded the old man.
The two watched the latest news on the tele, You wouldnt catch me
trying to sail round the world in arangatang, commented Ernest with his
words now slurred.
Nor me Uncle, laughed Norman as he headed off for his first nights
sleep under the roof of the Needles. Ernest stumbled his way to the outside
toilet. Norman knocked on the bathroom door, Thanks for everything
Auntie Katie, he shouted through the sound of running water; there was no
reply. Norman settled into his new bed, great he thought, this life is so easy
and with a feeling of total security he fell asleep.
6 am. Sunday, Norman woke up with the fear of God in him. What the
fuck am I doing here, he asked himself. It had dawned on him, that this was
not the morning after the night before, more a case of the first day of the rest
of his life. He took deep breaths to fight off an anxiety attack, then he
managed to put things into perspective in his head. He reasoned with
himself, he could just treat this situation like a working holiday with
relatives. It did not have to be more than that. He thought about moving on
after the summer, an old school mate Chris Mason worked as a waiter on the
cruise ships, Thats it he muttered, I will go to sea, move on from here,
why not. I must send him an E-mail, an S.O.S. must be a Cyber Caf round
here somewhere. They had been best friends all through school; it was their
almost identical heights that had caused the bond. Chris the adventurer of
the two had left school as soon as the chance came, leaving Norman to then
concentrate and throw himself into years of endless exams. Chris went off in
search of fun, he had told Norman, The minute you take life seriously, its
over. Norman had missed Chris; having found a possible way out of his
predicament he dozed off again.
Katie took Norman in a cup of tea, waking him at ten. He needed coffee
but made do. Sunday would be another day of unfaltering routine. Ernest
would take his bath in the morning; then scatter his toenail clippings over
the garden. Its good for the soil, he informed Norman.
Must be right, Bloke in the Pub told me. Katie sighed, she prepared the
lunch before they set off to the pub. This session of the week was spent at
the Hercules after a few introductions including the landlord Paddy who was
not actually Irish, Norman found himself under the spell of the merry
widow. The seat beside her was the only vacant seat ever it seemed,
however he was in fact glad of her company, most present were much older
than he. Nancy was, Thirty something, she insisted; Katie in fact only
knew her age and a sworn pact kept both their ages a secret. Both
curvaceous blondes, they looked and acted like real cockney sisters.
Nancy warned Norman he was in for a boring day at his new home.
Sunday evening was the only night of the week that both Ernest and Katie
stayed in. I think they have sex on Sundays, she joked, then watched his
reaction, he looked away. Sorry, but imagine it, she laughed; so did he.
They continued to talk, laugh and enjoy each others company. Nancy
suggested they should meet up that evening, if only to stop Norman feeling
perhaps the odd man out at home. He thought perhaps he ought to give
Ernest and Katie some privacy and agreed.
Katie marched her two men out of the pub at 3 oclock sharp. Within
minutes of their arriving back home, the Sunday roast was served. A bottle
Eugene Binx
of McNaughtons Ale sat in the centre of the table, Wine of the hop,
announced Norman. This remark went over the head of Ernest, but not
Katie, she loved her crosswords. After a huge meal, Ernest returned from a
long visit to the outside toilet, switched on the news channel and dozed off.
Katie remarked how little Ernest knew, considering how many hours he
spent in front of that, Flaming news channel.
After Norman had helped Katie with the washing up, she announced
Sunday afternoons were spent alone in her room. Norman suggested he
could use a bath before having a walk, To check out the area, perhaps
locate the brewery, he added. Katie handed him over his own front door
key. He explained that he would most likely have a few beers that evening,
Get to know a few of the natives perhaps he gestured.
Get to know Nancy more like, she smiled and repeated some warnings
regarding the merry widow. Norman took a short sleep before his bath, and
then left the house still dressed in the clothes he had arrived in. On his way
towards the brewery he passed Nancys front door, the house looked more
modern than the others in the terraced street. Blinds not curtains, with
modern light fittings showing through and a skylight set into the front of her
roof.
McNaughtons Brewery gates were large and padlocked. Floodlights
added to the bright early evening sun to give it the appearance through the
steam of a space ship landing. Norman was glad to have his plan for escape
in hand, as this place he thought was his worst nightmare.
Sunday night the Hercules was quiet and cold all year round. Paddy the
landlord was watching tele on the big screen. Chain-smoking; with his pale
tall skinny frame dressed in white vest and his grey hair he even looked like
a cigarette as he coughed with every breath.
The picture was blurred; lions tour apart a zebra. The pub door flew open;
Nancy swaggered up to the bar as she blew a kiss to Norman, seated in a
corner. No frigging wander, no bugger comes in here on a Sunday night,
Paddy, she yelled. Put some music on or Ill start singing. Paddy laughed
as he started to pour her usual drink. Two quid, he snarled, Jukebox is
over there. Nancy sat down close to Norman, not in the seat he would have
expected her to have chosen.
Cheers my darling, she almost whispered. Can you believe this pub, it
is a miracle Paddy can afford to keep it open, trade is so bad. He would
never get a job anywhere; look at the state of him. Norman nodded.
So why are we here, he asked.
Privacy, too many wagging tongues at the Prince tonight, she explained,
And that Charles is a right dirty bastard, calls Churchill a drip of the old
cock. He stinks; his breath could start an epidemic. Claims not to brush his
teeth, reckons that what you pay the Dentist for; it was no surprise his poor
wife left him. She ran off with the Juke Box engineer and all they had in
common was a crush on Cliff Richard. Nancy continued to chat away;
Norman just listened and nodded. A few more customers did drift in, not the
brewery crowd. Couples sat in what seemed like their regular Sunday night
positions. Nancy asked Norman if he could sense the forbidden love
atmosphere in the pub. She nodded him in the direction of some of the
couples, commenting on their circumstances. Affairs of the heart, she
sighed. And sex. Norman started to consider his position; now in the
company of the merry widow he could feel others eyes upon him and
became self conscious these people knew of, Nancys fancies, as Katie had
called them.
The bad news is, announced Nancy, this poor excuse for a boozer
closes tonight at ten, Paddys poor wife, cancer you see, she whispered as
she drew on a freshly lit cigarette. The good news is you are invited to my
humble home for a night cap. She had undressed Norman with her eyes and
got quite excited when catching sight of his size twelve boots. Norman
noting her gaze exclaimed, Doc. Martins, very comfortable, I used to be a
skinhead you know when I was at College.
Nancy smiled as she enquired, Why did you stop?
I fancied this black girl, but she didnt want to know me.
Placing her hands over his, she asked, Did your change of image do the
trick.
No came the saddened reply, turned out she was a Lesbian anyway.
At this they both laughed, for different reasons.
I meant stop College, come on, gestured Nancy, one for the gutter.
Norman took the initiative, soon returning from the deserted bar with two
large Southern Comforts. I hope you are not trying to get me pissed young
Norman, slurred Nancy.
Just being friendly, he replied. They walked awkwardly at first on
leaving the pub. Nancy deciding to take hold of Normans arm in an
innocent way, Just for support, she explained leading the way into the
small hallway of her house. There with the door closed she wrapped herself
around her young escort,
Lesbian indeed, she whispered into his ear, How dare she.
Eugene Binx
Chapter Two - The Natives are friendly
They did not make it past the first few stairs which served as a make shift
bed. They grunted and grunted and continued grunting till their satisfied
groans brought a barking response from a neighbours dog out in the street.
They were both still fully clothed as they got to their feet. Nancy gently
steered Norman on his way out of the front door, with a tender kiss in his ear
she whispered, See you at work in the morning Norman, take care of this
little secret and we can have more.
Norman chuckled on his short walk home, this sex business is great in
London he thought, you get to keep your clothes on and leave straight after.
He remembered all the fuss he had now left behind in the Midlands and
shook his head, And I didnt even have to tell her I love her, he mused.
Perhaps my real parents were Londoners!
Katie had her eyes fixed on Nancys bedroom that evening from 10
oclock, the time she new the Hercules closed. Sitting at her dressing table
she was relieved to hear Norman use his key for the first time just gone
10.30. Good lad, she thought, Katie also had undressed Norman with her
eyes and even fantasised various scenarios, as they were not really related
they tended to follow the young lodger theme, rather than the other option.
She did not greet Norman; he had a few friendly words with Ernest before
going up to his room. He lit up a cigarette, sat on the end of his bed and
thought about Nancy; it was to remain a secret but what next and how would
she react to him at the brewery and then theres Ernest and Katie His mind
was working overtime; producing thoughts it seemed to stop him from
sleeping. It was sex that got him here and it might be sex that would get him
to somewhere else, the sea! Yes it was all fait; sex was sending him to sea.
But surely sex is what people go to work at sea for; it is a vicious circle life
he concluded. Then he fell asleep, confused but happy and sexually
satisfied.
Katie took Norman in coffee first thing Monday morning, she had noted
his preference. He was to go into the brewery with her. Ernest had a 6am.
Start. Katie and Norman would go in for 8.45. They moved around the
kitchen well together, sharing the chores and enjoying each others
company. After a light almost healthy breakfast they set off to work. On
entering the brewery Katie handed over her Nephew to the foreman
Lenny. A huge red faced man in his mid-forties with thinning ginger hair,
better known as Lottery Lenny on account of the fact he spent small fortunes
trying to win a big one. As a single man he could afford to gamble, but was
a much-ridiculed figure for various reasons including his rejected advances
to Nancy. Norman fitted in well with the summer group of students; with his
unkempt mop of jet-black hair he looked the part.
Listen up, Lenny addressed the group, my name is Mr. Pratt, get your
laughter over now. Welcome to McNaughtons Brewery formerly Whitneys
Fine Ales. We still brew here, however our main function is as a main
distribution centre for your imported foreign lagers. Real ale! Well we brew
Old Demented, Cats Piss and Mermaids Juice. Work! Right, let me explain,
we brewery workers are as lazy as they come and proud of it. We barely find
the time to work each day with the many distractions life throws our way, let
alone maintain any standard of hygiene. So in the school holidays, he said
in a mocking tone, we get in local students like your good selves. We pay
you as little as the law allows and sit back and drink beer, while you clean
the place up, in preparation for our yearly visit from the Environmental
Health Inspector, by which time of course you lot have gone back to school.
Any silly questions? No, good, right follow me.
Lenny soon had them hard at work. Normans worst fears now confirmed,
he eyed up the brewery walls as if a prisoner, now just turned nineteen-years
of age he felt he might be under-achieving. The well educated, college drop
out had yet to find his career niche, not that he had ever looked. He never
blamed his orphan status for anything and had no hang-ups, he was just a
drifter.
Katie tracked him down as he cleaned away, to encourage him she
mentioned that Nancy sent her best wishes. Norman did feel a warm glow
inside from their attention as he worked along side the other temporary
workers, striking up friendships throughout the day. When given the go-
ahead he made his own way home. Katie was there before him. She had put
a stew on to cook. It will be ready from 7, she shouted from upstairs, Just
help yourself, with some bread and butter. Ernest is playing darts at the
Prince of Wales; he will be back by 10 and will finish it off.
Norman liked this feeling of being a part of Ernest and Katies world and
felt at home, even if it was to be just a short stay. Katie soon had changed
and gone to bingo with the ladies from the office, including, Nancy, she
had dropped into her words of farewell.
The telephone rang; Norman hesitated before he nervously picked up the
handset.
Is Katie there, said a female voice. Norman explained nervously that
she had gone to the bingo. I know, said Nancy, how are you after your
first day in Alcatraz? Aches and pains I should imagine, take a nice hot bath
darling and have an early night. I will need you at your best later in the
week, take care.
Eugene Binx
Norman took this advice, followed by a generous helping of Katies stew

washed down with the never-ending stock of McNaughtons Ale. Better buy
a crate of these he thought, on my way home tomorrow I guess; I must sort
out paying some keep money too. He decided to bring the matter up with
Ernest, man to man he thought. Ernest just referred him to Katie. Katie just
said she would think about it.
The following day as Norman strolled back from the brewery he collected
the beers and cigarettes, flowers and chocolates, only to arrive home to an
empty house. A note only greeted him, it read, Ernest playing cribbage
tonight at the Hercules, back by 10.30. I am out with the girls; stew on,
ready by 7.30. What a social life these two have thought Norman. He took
himself off to the bathroom, after a long soak he dared back downstairs
wearing his dressing gown. The phone rang, he grabbed the handset
straightaway, Norman, said Nancy.
Norman stayed silent.
Very funny, she snapped, You, my place, now, before she hung-up.
Norman laughed. Once he had dressed for the job he strode off on the short
walk to meet the merry widow. Her door was just open, he slowly pushed it
back, inside was total darkness. Light showed from under a door at the top
of the stairs. Once on the first floor he gently turned the door handle; the
light went out, a click had come from the far end of the room. He saw just
the outline of a woman in white, sitting on a bed, as she drew on her
cigarette the glow illuminated her smile. Nancy completed her seduction
with a spread of her legs, drawing them up to her chest as she released the
tie on the top of her nightgown. Norman knew what to do to reward her for
this generous offer. Once again he remained fully dressed as they wrestled
on her king-size bed; he pushed away her curvaceous body as she wrapped
herself around his waist forcing a ferocious pace of intercourse. It was soon
over, she asked him to show himself out, blew him one last kiss, waved and
gestured that this be another little secret. He closed the front door gently.
The street was not brightly lit; the house was situated away from the
streetlights. Nancy has got it really sussed thought Norman as he sloped off
back home. The stew was a touch soup like now, but extra tasty, he was in
need of this meal and was fast asleep in his room by the time Ernest and
Katie had returned. They were concerned if he was feeling at home or,
Perhaps he was lonely, worried Katie. Look Ernest she said in an
emotional tone, he has been to the shop, lovely flowers and chocolates,
McNaughtons Light Ales and fags. We did do the right thing taking him in,
lovely boy.
As the rest of the week came and went, Norman fell into the routine.
Ernest and Katie went out every night separately. Friday and Saturday were
their nights out together. Sunday they both stayed in. Norman fell in with
this, as the son Ernest and Katie never managed. Nancy was to provide his
sex life. Katie even made the odd comment with regards to finding Norman
a young lady. You just wait till the Xmas-Eve disco at the Prince of
Wales, had shouted Ernest in an excited state one night loads of crumpet.
Norman had seen Nancy every day at the brewery; she had given him
smiles that sent him week at the knees. Even if it was just sexual she had got
him, right where she wanted him, on tap.
Saturday night at the Prince of Wales marked an anniversary, one week
since Norman, Katie and Ernest had their lives joined through fait.
Sunday night was a more private affair. At the Hercules pub just Norman
and Nancy raised their glasses. They were good together, laughed a lot and
enjoyed their little secrets.
Looks like this will be our last Sunday here for our sexual aperitif,
blurted out Nancy.
In English please, pleaded Norman.
The poster, over there, have you not read it, she said.
Norman studied the very large poster.
Comedy F.U. every night starts next Sunday here. Pay As You Enter
only, Free Exit. Wanted dead or alive COMEDIANS & COMEDIENNES
apply to the MISMANAGEMENT. We are not an equal opportunities
employer (so if youre not funny you can fuck off).
Ernest is not going to be too happy about this, he concluded.
Still leaves him the Prince to drink in, answered Nancy. Look, Paddy
has got real problems here, his wife being so ill, trade not what is was. One
of the comedy agents offered him a deal; it is still his pub on paper. They
sort everything out with the comedy in return for the door money. At that
point Paddy joined the two clutching a drink each for them and his own.
Need a word with you big fella, little birdie tells me youre only a temp
at the brewery. Got a proposition for you. Need a body here, told the jokers
Id supply the doorman. Needs to be a face people round here know. Youre
O.K. working at the brewery and being family with Ernest and Katie. Well
respected they are round here and trusted. You could be my ears and eyes.
Every night though, replied Norman, it says on that poster.
Bollocks, said Paddy, thats just for show, will only be weekends at
first anyway. See how it works out. You might be desperate for the hours
when they kick you out the brewery end of the summer. What you say?
Eugene Binx
Nancy looked over at Norman nodding her head; he guessed she was the
little birdie.
So I not only get to tell Ernest one of his locals is as good as closing, to
the likes of him, answered Norman, but I even get to kick him while he is
down, with the good news, by the way Uncle Ernest guess what, I got the
job as doorman, at the Hercules.
No no! screamed Paddy. The Two Buttocks, it is going to be called the
Two Buttocks.
What, I have to even tell him that an all? asked Norman now in a state
of amazement.
It was part of the deal with the jokers, pleaded Paddy, but it could have
been worse, at first they wanted to call it The Haemorrhoids.
Oh thats alright then said Norman, now in sarcastic tone.
Great, that is a right fucking load off my mind, concluded Paddy. A
toast, the Two Buttocks. Nancy will sort out your wages; she is going to run
the books for me. Paddy shook both his new employees hands, but could
not resist a peck on Nancys cheek. He then returned behind the bar, rang
the bell and shouted, Last orders at the bar please. With only Norman and
Nancy still in the pub, it was his way of dropping a hint that it was their
round. Norman got the drinks in, Paddy said he could only accept a large
scotch, they all laughed. The eager lovers knocked back their large Southern
Comforts. Again they shook hands with Paddy before leaving.
Nancy had nominated where she wanted sex this night. She led Norman
into her open plan lounge area; she lit a candle then pulled him down on top
of herself and a large beanbag. Just as a week earlier almost to the minute,
Norman zipped up his trousers as they kissed goodnight just inside the
darkened hallway. They were again both satisfied.
On reaching home Norman opted for an early night, just shouting out,
Good night all, as he made his way to the sanctuary of his room. As he lay
in his bed, he practised how he would break his career news to Ernest and
Katie, the sheer scale of the task put him to sleep.
Monday morning he was late getting up, he now starts work later than
Ernest but earlier than Katie, so only just caught sight of her as he rushed
down a coffee, Hot enough to kill lesser men he screamed. Noticing Katie
has started to wear less now when its just the two of them in the house
causes Norman some concern. What she does wear reminds him of a
documentary he once saw on women that sit behind windows in Amsterdam,
offering sex. He thinks to himself, oh no, do I not have enough problems
without this? He bolts out through the door, gazes at his watch, only to see
he is not now going to be late. That pigging old clock in the bedroom, has
given me a throat like Joe Cocker, he mumbled to himself. He slowed his
pace, he could now take time to think, and wander if he could be heading for
another family upset, he felt uneasy. Maybe I should have given Auntie
Katie a good shagging this morning, he thought, I did have the time after
all, it would keep her sweet. Fucking women, he considered, why not. He
concluded, if shes asking for it tomorrow she gets it. He chuckled away,
feeling ashamed of his thoughts, as he waved to Nancy whilst passing by her
office window.
That night with Ernest at the pub and Katie just off to the bingo, Nancy
phoned. Norman was pleased to hear her strong sexy voice. I am worried
about what Ernest will feel, about the Hercules and me and you even, he
wined.
Dearest Norman you have been hired as a doorman, you just leave the
management of this situation to Nancy, got it, she assured him. Look,
apart from our little secret, everything is sweet. Ernest and Katie will be
fine. They hardly use the Hercules these days anyway and they will not go
near the place if Paddy is not around, so relax.
You got it, said Norman in an American accent.
You have not said anything yet, have you? asked Nancy.
Wish I knew how, replied Norman.
Fine then, she said, I will mention to Katie tomorrow about Paddy,
handing over the
Pub to the jokers, you know his wife, the cancer and all that. How poor
old Paddy needs some people he can trust to keep an eye on the place. I will
tell her I am going to keep the books for him and ask her if she and Ernest
would ask you to help poor old Paddy, by doing the door job.
You sort it, I will do it, concluded Norman. Call me tomorrow.
Norman tucked into some of Katies stew, took over the parlour table,
poured a McNaughtons Ale and gazed at the tele. He was happy at home
now for the first time in his life.
After the phone call Nancy made her way to the Hercules, she knocked on
the lounge bar entrance. Paddy let her in then bolted the door. He had given
opening a miss on Mondays since trade fell away. A large oval table was
covered in paperwork. The two sat down, it was an emotional meeting as
there was history between them. I am a bit concerned, your relationship
with the big fella, could give us problems with this lot, said Paddy,
pointing at the piles of scruffy paper work, covered in old scotch stains and
fresh cigarette ash.
Eugene Binx
I dont have relationships, pointed out Nancy. You of all people should
know that. So down to the business in hand. They agreed she would be in
charge of the pub side. Norman would answer to her, the bar staff would
answer to him when she was not around. The place would only open
evenings from 7 and only if the jokers had done all the publicity. Paddy had
made the flat upstairs self-contained and even soundproof when his wife
first got ill. So Nancy was to let it out.
No fucking students or unemployeds, shouted Paddy. And if you get
nurses from round the corner, no fucking parties up there every night.
Of course not, mocked Nancy, we couldnt have people laughing and
drinking over a comedy pub could we.
Doctors, young doctors would be best they earn more money than
nurses, replied Paddy now on a roll. They reckon to work so fucking hard;
they shouldnt have the energy to enjoy themselves. Nancy said she would
put a notice up at the local hospital.
Paddy and his wife would not be far away; she had never given up her
small council flat.
They had never married, Too busy at first in the pub, then too quiet to
afford it, then she became too ill, and thats over twenty years, reflected
Paddy. Second time round it was for both of us, come to think of it, not
sure if she ever got a divorce. Good job I didnt marry her perhaps. Nancy
dropped her head into her hands, she worried, managing this dinosaurs
business is going to be hard work she thought, still I owe him this and
business is business.
Paddy concluded with his winding up plans, he would break the news to
Ernest and the lads on cribbage night Tuesday. He had agreed with Charles
at the Prince of Wales they could play out the season there. This Friday
would be the farewell party night at the Hercules. Paddy would hand over
the Pub on Saturday. He and Maureen had not lived there since she became
confined to her bed and they had moved back into her small flat. Nancy
would interview bar staff over the weekend, she would meet 10a.m. Sunday
with the jokers, to lay down all the ground rules for their working together.
That evening would be the first Comedy night at the Two Buttocks. With
business concluded Paddy was eager to get back to Maureen.
It was still early enough for Nancy to join the Ladies at the local Bingo.
She did mention to Katie that a meeting with Paddy had delayed her and she
would tell all at work the next day.
Tuesday, first thing, Norman knew he was not late, having bought himself
a massive wall clock that dominated his room and made him very conscious
of time. Being unable to bin the old dressing table clock, he would use it as a
bookend, not that he had any books. At work this day he got a few waves
from Nancy as he walked passed her office. He also got waves from Katie,
seeing the two of them in the office together he felt embarrassed. One down,
one to go he thought to himself.
That evening after Katie had gone off to the bingo, Norman phoned
Nancy. Did you get an adults permission to use the phone, she enquired,
laughing.
I dont know any, snapped Norman.
See you soon, I expect, concluded Nancy as she hung-up.
Norman ambled round for his Tuesday night Sex, but first he wanted an
up-date on the Hercules saga. Nancy obliged but not in that order.
My pleasure before business, she demanded.
She went on to explain that Ernest and Katie would now ask him to help
out Paddy anyway, so all would work out just fine. They agreed to meet up
at Paddys Friday night farewell party.
GOOD BYE ILL MISS YOU read the homemade banner crooked
above the bar.
Shouldnt be wasting money on an expensive sign like that, shouted
Nancy over at Paddy as he drank himself into a coma. Could be your first
job here Norman, to carry him out to a taxi later, she added.
Nancy was right, both Ernest and Katie had asked Norman to look after
the door for Paddy and he did have to carry him out to his taxi.
Norman was on overtime Saturday morning helping Paddy move out the
last of his possessions. Nancy was there sorting out keys for everything, she
found stocktaking with Paddy hard work. He wore sunglasses because of his
hangover and kept falling over things.
At last by early evening all was sorted at the pub. Nancy now the key
holder locked the main door. She and Norman were both tired; they agreed
on fish and chips to be purchased and then eaten at her house.
As they sat down, Nancy served chilled white wine, lots of it. They
enjoyed their first meal together. Nancy demanded some, Serious sex on
the other beanbag; then sent Norman off home. They would meet later that
evening at the Prince of Wales.
Norman was enjoying his new life-style and it was now acceptable for
him to spend time with Nancy as they worked together. Katie commented
that perhaps he would meet a nice young lady at the comedy nights and
Ernest blamed, The bloody Council, for the closure of the Hercules.
Eugene Binx
That evening was busier at the Pub than was normal. With the Hercules no
longer a locals pub, its few customers had moved on to the Prince of Wales.
Charles the landlord loved it, wishing Nancy and Norman good luck, as they
didnt threaten his newfound trade. At the end of the evening, they went
their separate ways. She reminding him first that he was expected the
following mid-day at the Two Buttocks.
Sunday came, Norman knocked on the massive front door of the Hercules.
It was mid-day and painters were desperate to cover up old signs. A new
swinging sign had been hung up. Norman winced at the sight, yes it was
TWO BUTTOCKS, and he was still shaking his head as Nancy opened the
door. Keys, she snapped, yours, youre on time, in future be early. She
pulled him in through the door and kissed him, like he had never been kissed
before. Is this exciting Norman, or what! she exclaimed. Come and meet
the jokers. She led him through to the lounge bar, at the large table sat the
Spin Doctor and Nigel. Nancy introduced the three. Both the jokers came
from the North of England; Doc as he liked to be called warmed to Norman
with his Midlands accent.
Nancy had taken care of all the paperwork long before Norman had
arrived; he noticed Nigel the slightly taller of the two with multi coloured
hair was a very nervous guy. He had sat with his thin legs almost double
crossed and adjusted his heavy black framed glasses none stop at the table;
this put Norman on edge with him.
Right then, Doc and Nigel have lots to do, in oh! such little time and I
have bar persons to sign up and train, announced Nancy. So! Norman the
doorman, as there will be loads of strangers in and out, please give it code
red on the security front.
Chapter Three - The opening of the Two Buttocks
Like ants building a nest, the jokers set about turning the old Hercules pub
into a comedy venue. The building was just perfect for the transformation;
Norman was amazed when two guys with ponytails walked in with
chainsaws and turned two bars into one. A strange looking female with huge
tits was putting up curtains everywhere with a staple gun. Long haired ex-
public schoolboys hung spotlights from the ceiling and a bloke covered in
tattoos drove everyone round the fucking twist, One two, one two, his
testing call. Hawkwind used these speakers once.
Only once, shouted back Doc.
Everything did in fact go like clockwork; at 7 there was a queue at the
door. Let them queue, Nigel told Norman, looks great, there will be press
here tonight, early cause its free drinks for them, dont worry, comes out
the door money, our treat.
The night was sheer chaos; Doc and Nigel had pulling power. The local
hospital had provided a high local turnout also. Well over a 100 paid entry
on the night, the guest list just added to record takings at the bar.
Admissions had to be stopped at 10. Doc compared the evening he
introduced a succession of unknown Stand-ups; Nigel as stage manager
worked himself into neurotic state before leaving early. Doc referred to him
as The Man Who Fell to Earth.
There was only one Stand-up known to this first night audience; a kiwi
pretending to be an Aussie named Bungalow Bill stormed onto the stage at
10.15.
You Whinging fucking poms, he shouted at the crowd. Then opening a
newspaper he proceeded to read out headlines, adding his thoughts on the
issues.
Pensioners say Council Tax too high, oh, what a fucking shame. If they
dont want to pay it, they should fuck off and live somewhere else. Try on
the banks of the Ganges, no Council Tax there, you just poor your piss and
shit in the river along with your garbage. Like youre wanted here anyway.
Stop fucking whinging coffin dodgers
Heres another, firemen consider further strike action, what bollocks, Ive
seen that documentary, Londons Burning, get a real job guys.
Heat wave continues, do me a favour.
Eugene Binx
We had to open this place tonight, as its the only night this year that that
fucking Office is not on the tele. Strange statistic, 100% of people that
watch the Office, dont have a video-recorder, so they all had to go out and
buy the D.V.D. I auditioned for the girl in the wheelchair part you know,
equal opportunities and all that, I think Ricky Gervais was worried I would
be too strong a character, I respect his honesty.
You do have some weird tele here though, the Royal Family, I channel
hop a lot, first I thought it was a furniture ad; its just some whinging
fucking poms; sit down comedy. I dont get it.
Whats the difference between a carpet and a wank? You can beat a
carpet, but you cant beat a good wank.
After many more insults, Bungalow Bill bowed out, the crowd were up for
a great night and so they had one. Nancy, Norman and Doc had worked well
together; the next comedy night would be Thursday. After Doc had left,
Nancy showed Norman another location for sex. They then staggered off
together, Norman just seeing Nancy safely to her front door, before tip-
toeing back into the world of Ernest and Katie, now both fast asleep
Early next morning, as Norman burnt some bread for breakfast, Katie
came down early. She was keen to know how the first comedy night had
gone down at the old Hercules. Norman was very excited even telling her a
few of the less blue funnies. She asked him if he would be interested in
staying on at the brewery after the summer. Just a general tidier-up, she
explained, moneys not bad though and you would finish in plenty of time
for your door job.
Unable to reason at that time of the day, Norman replied, Why not,
thanks Auntie. Katie smiled as she now hurried off to the bathroom.
Nancy needed now to speak to Norman at the brewery daytimes, as there
were matters to update him on. There was no gossip about the pair, he was
considered to be her go-for. She asked him to let the jokers into the pub that
night for a couple of hours. They had some more work to do and wanted to
do a few auditions. Nancy would drop by after bingo. It was 11pm. when
she let herself into the pub, only Norman was still there. He sat watching
news on the big screen. Nancy poured them both a large Southern Comfort.
Sunday already, said Norman.
No its fucking Monday, replied Nancy, pun intended. She sat down
with him. Cigarettes were lit. Norman grabbed the remote control, the big
screen went blank. Good shot, said Nancy. Here you go, a present. She
handed over a gift-wrapped box, Norman not really a presents man, was
embarrassed. Nancy had to help him unwrap it.
A mobile phone he asked, for me?
It goes with the job, she answered, but they offered to gift wrap in the
shop, now will you shag me.
As they locked up the pub, Norman pointed out to Nancy, that they had
yet to have sex in the same place twice. There isnt time now Norman, she
replied in her mocking tone still fixing her clothes. They walked to her front
door. She tidied up his thick hair with her hand and pushed him away in the
direction of Ernest and Katies.
Tuesday and Wednesday with the exception of the gift of a mobile phone,
were more of the same for Norman and Nancy. Thursday evening kicked off
the first of four nights consecutive comedy at the Two Buttocks. It was
during this stint that Norman started to get noticed. Many of the customers
were coming back, there were many bar-staff, and Doc and Nigel had
friends that helped out. Even the lads from the brewery would stop for a chat
with him as they passed by. Known now officially as Norman the Doorman,
one or two ladies would hang around outside the door with him, some
evenings. Nancy would tease Norman over his, Normies, as she called
them.
The first full weekend of comedy was a huge success. Reviewers had been
excited about the new comedy venue and their free drinks. Doc had
researched the area well before approaching Paddy at the old Hercules. The
area was on the up; professionals were moving into now trendy ex-council
tower blocks. They of course took the brunt of much of the humour at the
Two Buttocks. No pissing in the lifts, you lot, on your way home, Doc
would shout most nights as he wished all good night and begged them not to
come back again. Nancy had let the flat to her head barman Patrick and his
Girl-friend B.A. despite her being an Art Student and the most awful Irish
Comedienne on the circuit.
The summer became routine for Norman and all those around him. The
Thursday to Sunday comedy nights were established, with the odd extra one
thrown in, August Bank Holiday Monday was a sell-out. Life at the brewery
changed for him as the students went back to college. He got kept on,
mainly due to Lottery Lenny now having the hots for Katie.
Nights stood on the pub door soon became colder; Norman borrowed a
night security coat from the brewery. He had from the onset listened to
much of the comedy, it was very loud and easy to hear from outside. But as
the winter weather forced him to stand just inside the door (with Nancys
permission of course) he started to take note of the comedians mannerisms
and developed his own style of humour.
Norman had now entered a world where everything was fair game for
would-be comedians and of course there was, the comedienne. Always
one, moaned Nancy, they are just not funny, especially B.A. That Jo
Eugene Binx
Brand shes not bad, they should get er down here. It seemed like every
comedy observation seemed to be followed by, How sad is that, Norman
noticed and he soon went from living and breathing stand up to speaking its
very language. It helped remind him there was a much bigger World than
his, somewhere.
At the brewery he made them laugh, repeating material from the acts. At
home he entertained Ernest and Katie. With Nancy he switched off, however
she noticed he was more like Doc, Nigel and the acts, than he was her. He
could no-longer look at things without seeing a funny side to them.
One night Norman answered so many questions whilst watching
University challenge, that Nancy tried seduction to put him off. She knew
how clever he was and it added to his mystique and attraction. Their sexual
encounters continued. He supported Birmingham City F.C. and asked Nancy
if he could fuck her at half time when they were watching a televised match,
she consented.
Nancy asked Norman if he would use a microphone to clear people out a
bit quicker at closing time, he agreed. Doc and Nigel were against it, but
when Norman started to throw in a few funnies this became a feature of the
evenings, the crowd enjoyed it so it stuck. In the run up to Xmas Nigel
became ill, the Two Buttocks had taken its toll on his health, so he reckoned,
despite his theory of out of date Yoghurts being good for him. There were
even jokes made about Nigel after he had gone back North to his parents for
a rest and to work on his idea, A Fumble in the Jungle, un-solicited for
Channel 4. He was referred to as, Neurotic Nigel by Doc who now
depended on Norman to help him out, Just as Norman depended on Patrick.
With the arrival of winter Norman would sit by the cashiers booth, just
inside the main venue door. He now had a mike clipped to his shirt, a push
button made him live. Being most nights the tallest person at the Two
Buttocks and dressed in black suit and bow tie, he became master of
ceremonies by default. At first introducing the compares, then introducing
the acts if required. Doc found it easier to work with less people; he stopped
booking compares and ran the shows with Norman. They worked well
together. Doc was a very small guy, in his mid-thirties with fair thinning
hair; he loved to dress up for the stage, had loads of energy and was an
undiscovered comedy talent. He had lacked faith in himself and patience so
moved into management. Now he had the power to control the fate of
others, just as others had once controlled him. He was a bitter man but knew
his comedy. As agent to many acts and comedy venues he was now
discovered.
December brought new customers into the venue, as regulars attended
parties elsewhere. It was hard to get acts some nights and it was like the Doc
and Norman show, with the audience as their support. But it still worked, the
place was packed out with the seasons revellers anyway, And good talent
would have been wasted on such morons, Doc insisted as he got richer and
Norman got funnier, Paddy now thought every day was his Birthday as
Nancy updated him on the bar takings, Maureen was still dieing, Ernest had
almost forgot his Nephew lived in the house; Katie was spending a small
fortune trying to attract Norman with sexy underwear, whilst Nancy seemed
in control of it all and it wasnt even Xmas yet.
As the 25th of December got nearer Norman and Doc had to think on their
feet more and more. But the Xmas week brought out their best efforts. They
put on comedy Karaoke it went down a storm. Then one night the most
feared thing was happening live, with only a mystery top of the bill expected
Normans phone rang. Bungalow Bill booked only because he owed Doc a
favour was having a massive problem at home. He lived in digs in a posh
flat in Golders Green, where he claimed, Some guys pretended to be
Jewish, just so they could wear a skull cap to hide their bald patch whilst
chatting up the local Sheilas. Bills landlady was having a mid-life crisis.
Shes 50, I keep telling her she should have had this at least ten years ago,
said Bill, she will not live till 100 anyway, she could drink and smoke for
Israel.
If you cant make it Bill, insisted Norman, your fucking nuisance of a
landlady wont be the only one having a mid-life crisis tonight.
I offered the Sheila a good shagging, shouted Bill into Normans ear,
seem to make her worse though. I will get to you for that last spot, must
go.
Norman quickly relayed the troublesome news to Doc. He also proposed
he devise a sketch for the two of them to do there and then. Doc nodded and
with that, Norman picked him up like a puppet and strode onto the stage.
Sitting down with Doc on his lap and his arm threaded up through Docs
jacket, he looked into the eyes of his nervous dummy, Whats up Doc, he
asked. The crowd were gob smacked as Norman bounced Doc on his knee.
Lottery Lenny from the brewery helping out on security that night nearly fell
off his stool. Docs friends working stage effects stood speechless in
anticipation of the pairs next move. Bar staff stopped serving and Nancy on
a rare visit to the venue of an evening thought she was going to orgasm. Doc
reached out to the table closest to the stage, he picked up a full pint of lager.
He then passed it to Norman who slowly started to down it in one.
Then Doc spoke, Hello Boys and Girls are you looking forward to
Xmas, the crowd went for it and thanks to some great hecklers the routine
with Doc the puppet and Norman the straight faced ventriloquist trying to
keep some order went down well. When a lady insisted on trying to pull
Docs trousers off Norman brought the act to an end, by admitting Doc was
not really a puppet and he never really wanted to be a ventriloquist. No he
Eugene Binx
wanted to be a lumberjack, and he led the crowd into singing the lumberjack
song. He retreated still carrying Doc like a puppet. Thank god for Monty
Python, screamed Doc over the loud applause, now will you fucking put
me down.
Nancy went over and hugged the pair she had tears rolling down her face.
They had bought the time they needed. Norman had put Ernests Chas and
Dave video on the big screen; they would only get away with this at Xmas.
Normans phone rang; he rushed outside the pub to take the call.
Im just round the corner, shouted Bill as his car screeched into sight. I
ended up giving her a good shagging Norman, he yelled across the street,
it was the only way, and you owe me big time for that, shes awesome man,
hairs on her chest. I can never go home again. He laughed and hugged
Norman. Doc joined them outside.
Bill explained he had an idea for his entrance tonight, Norman agreed. He
removed the mike from Docs shirt and pinned it on to Bill. The entrance
began. They could be heard, but not seen inside the pub.
Norman, Sorry sir, you cant come in, were full up.
Bill, Come on just a jar or two matey.
Norman, No come back, where do you think your going?
Bill, I just want to check out the sheilas.
Bill ran into the pub and made his way to the stage he let rip his catch
phase, Hello you whinging fucking poms. The place erupted. Bungalow
Bill now a minor television face held the audience through till closing time.
He closed his act with a song, Fuck off across the Mersey. Whilst
receiving a standing ovation he ran out, still screaming abuse. He drove off,
on the way home phoning Norman, I got to get home and shag the Sheila
again, he chuckled, well it is Xmas, cant have her feeling crook; gooday.
The next morning, Whats a good thing for a hangover Katie, begged
Norman.
To drink too-much the night before, she answered, dressed in a
burgundy silk look dressing gown.
Norman was slumped over the dining table; the excitement of the previous
evening had culminated with a bottle of Southern comfort and some quite
violent sex with Nancy in the back yard of the pub. She called it the
masonry position, Missionaries should have taught this on their travels,
she had screamed.
Now to get into the brewery for just a half day as it was Xmas Eve. Katie
brought a glass of water and told him the fresh air on the way to work would
also help. At the brewery to his relief, there were other casualties of the
Demon Drink. Nancy had booked the day off as she did every year; she
would spend hours sitting beside the grave of her late husband. Knowing of
this spooked Norman.
The horn sounded at the brewery, cheers could be heard from the men. It
was off to the Prince of Wales for their Xmas drink. In years gone by the
Hercules was the chosen pub for this yearly binge. Norman tagged along, he
didnt want to let Ernest down and being family it meant a lot.
Norman slipped off after a couple of beers. He now felt better, so he
grabbed a pie and chips on his way home. He set himself up at the dining
table, poured a beer and switched on the tele. He presumed he was alone in
the house, finished lunch, cleared away and then relaxed for a snooze in the
Ernest chair right in front of the tele. After realising his needed to use a
toilet he climbed the stairs and entered the bathroom. Oh Norman, Katie
said, in a welcoming tone her nakedness just slightly blurred by the steam
rising off her heavily scented bath water.
So sorry, replied Norman, really sorry.
Katie having dreamt of this moment, seized it, standing up in the bath,
Fuck me Norman, please, please, she begged.
Norman had to think fast on his feet here, If he refused, the
embarrassment it would cause, would mess the both of them up. After all
she had done for him he owed her everything really. It was just a fuck.
Where? said Norman in true James Bond style.
Eugene Binx
Chapter Four - Xmas is for giving
Your room, begged Katie. Norman led the way; Katie slipped into a
black silk look dressing gown and followed him. He stood back in his room
allowing her to enter; she drew the curtains before getting into the bed. The
room was now dark enough to hide their blushes as they engaged in sexual
foreplay. Norman sat on the bedside and fondled her breasts, he then stood
up and undressed, not something he had time for when fucking Nancy.
Being naked in bed was a first for Norman and a distant memory for Katie;
this novelty factor heightened the event for them both, causing the pair to
climax in record time. Norman lit a cigarette straight after. Katie told him to
get some rest before his nights work. She left the room with a silent grace;
Norman felt no-less respect for her. He fell asleep and had to be woken by
Nancy, on his mobile phone she gave him an earful. It was 6pm.Xmas eve
and where the hell was he anyway. Norman made his peace and agreed to be
there within 30 minutes. He showered, put on his doorman suit and strolled
out of the house, Have a great Xmas eve you two. shouted Norman. Ernest
was demolishing pie and chips. Katie was still in her room, she heard
Normans upbeat farewell and sighed with relief as she now prepared to
wash away her memory of that afternoon.
Norman knew this was no time to reflect on his afternoon as he quickened
his steps to the Two Buttocks. Once inside he got stuck in to the chaotic
activities needed to get the venue open on time. He was not his usual self
when Nancy handed over to him. She was going off for a few hours and
would return about 11ish.
Norman noticed behind the bar was untidy; he hated it when staff left junk
around. He went through it, an assortment of worthless lost property and ex-
staff belongings. A scarf of a former feminist barmaid was hurtled into the
bin. He recalled how she had stormed out while a comedian had made one
too many sexist remark; a reference that she preferred Men to liquor. At the
very bottom of the junk was a book, Norman picked it up carefully; it was
an easy introduction to Zen. He looked inside the cover, where by hand was
written, To Nigel, the world is a funny place this may help you keep
laughing. Good luck the Doc. Norman waved the book at Doc, Nigels left
this book you got him, he shouted over the music.
Pity, replied Doc. he should have read it, could have helped him
straighten out his fucked up life.
I will read it over Xmas, may I? asked Norman.
Thats what books are for, stated Doc.
Norman went through to the office. He placed the book in his draw for
safekeeping. Perhaps it can help me straighten out my fucked up life, he
thought to himself.
The venue would not open this night until eight. They had a late
extension for Xmas eve. Norman slowly started putting change into the bar
tills, he was feeling fragile as a panic attack got hold of him. His thoughts
slogged it out like two boxers, I have just had sex with my Auntie, oh God,
my Mums sister, thats even worse. No my step Mums sister, thats better.
But its still my Uncles wife, only my step Uncle though, but I like him.
Then theres Nancy, what if Katie should tell her about us, what us? Katie
and me or Nancy and me? What if Katie confesses to Ernest? What if Nancy
tells Katie about us? Oh no this is the best one, Nancy tells Ernest, Ernest
tells Katie. Or perhaps Nancy just tells Ernest, Ernest keeps quiet, and then
Katie confesses to Ernest also. He lit a cigarette and drew hard, this slowed
his thoughts down. I could deny fucking either of them. Bollocks, what
about me, why is it always about other people? Tomorrow how about that,
Xmas dinner with Ernest and Katie, how will she act? He knew Nancy was
to spend the day with her family. Is this comedy? he asked himself. Could
I use this tonight, should I? This is life; if life isnt funny then we would
have to close down the venue.
Norman now just numbed by his situation, made a strong coffee, lit
another cigarette and managed to clear his mind. Soon he was able to put his
problems away for the evening as work took over his life.
Xmas eve. entertainment was well sorted out. Lots of Xmas nonsense,
comedy twists to everything, prize draws, competitions, a comedy magician
and two stand-ups. Norman would open the show with a short intro-spot; the
Doc would compare. Nancy was returning to cash up most of the money, but
would not hang around long. Norman would have to lock up and very late,
as staff and the acts would expect a good late Xmas drink that night.
9 oclock Norman left lottery Lenny on the door and after collecting a
large scotch and a stool from the bar stepped up onto the stage. He placed
the glass on a tall table to his left, lit a cigarette and just stared at the crowd.
Doc watched on with great interest as he made some lighting changes. He
respected Normans comedy and had considered managing him.
Norman produced from his large jacket pocket a red fez, his size and dress
allowed him to do a Tommy Cooper impersonation. With one hand he
turned the stool upside down, Just like that he said. A mixed reaction from
those that had noticed him. He pulled out a gun cigarette lighter, pointed it at
the crowd, then he pulled the trigger, it produced a flame. He then put it
back in his pocket, Doc created a gun shot sound, and Norman pretended he
had shot himself in the thigh. Doc despatched onto the stage one of his
helpers. She was stunning, dressed as a 60s magicians assistant from her
Eugene Binx
seamed stockings upwards. The lovely Marsha, announced Norman. She

knelt down, unzipped his trousers, placed her hand inside, and pulled out a
white, limp object which she placed in her mouth. The crowd now cheered
into a frenzied state. Marsha stood up; moving away from Norman to reveal
it was a silk sheet she was pulling out of his pants. Having extracted it, she
bowed. Norman did his zip up. Marsha threw the material over the stool.
Norman stepped forward, grabbed two corners. To the amazement of the
now captive audience, he shook the silk sheet side to side and just kicked the
stool from under it, straight off the side of the stage and out of site. He then
held up the sheet to reveal the stool had vanished. A smoke bomb added to
the fact that most of the audience could not see that section of the stage
caused confusion. Norman received a massive applause, some for his
Tommy Cooper con trick, more from those convinced he had made the stool
vanish and many more just joining in. Marsha took her bows as she left
Norman on stage. The Spin Doctor, Ladies and Gentlemen, your compare
for Xmas eve, introduced Norman, as he genuinely limped off the stage as
a result of kicking the stool with his shinbone.
Doc rather pleased at Normans success having part devised the routine,
now called for silence. He wore a Vicars collar. I will ask you all please to
remember the Religious hypocrisy, I mean significance, sorry, we always
mix up those two, at Xmas. Here in an inn of all places we can just imagine
if Joseph and Mary should call here looking for shelter for the night. Having
paid a tenner each to get in, some fucking Aussie behind the bar would tell
them we dont do B and B. If they asked for their money back, the doorman
would throw them out, troublemakers aye! You see it wasnt Josephs fault,
in those days things were different, he should know with a beard like that,
Doc pointed out a man near the front. You see Joseph and Mary were just
going away for Xmas, we take it for granted. But just think, they couldnt
book a hotel on the Internet in those days. No they had to walk hundreds of
miles, up to the receptionist, got any rooms tonight, no, alright we better go
home, spend a quiet Xmas. Off they go. But Marys pregnant, lets try an Inn
says Joseph, I want en-suite says Mary. Women aye! Some things never
change, that reminds me I only came up here to introduce, a woman, and
here she is Betsy Norfolk.
Once described by a critic as the Queen of Monotone, Betsy took to the
stage she started her routine as always. Good evening, Im Betsy Norfolk,
well Im Betsy and Im from Norfolk. Of course most country girls are big
old girls, but I was the last of the litter see.
Norman didnt worry about the trickle of blood running down his leg, he
propped himself up against the bar to watch Betsy. She was the only woman
he really fancied since being deported to London. It was her that coined the
phrase, If you dont laugh Ill get my tits out. She was tall, appeared flat
chested and wore skin-tight stripy tops. However she turned men on big
time. On the stage to compliment her top half she wore jodhpurs, riding
boots and held a horsewhip. Much of her act was Norfolk country type stuff;
Norman just gazed at her. She was thirty-ish, very white, with freckles and
red hair; he had just fallen in love for the first time. Betsy did her size is
important routine, Look, all this, its what he does with it crap, forget it,
there aint much to do with it, so the bigger the better, right, girls, girl power
yeah. The price girls they should have been called, cause they all had one.
Norman drooling by now felt Nancy pat him on the shoulder. She passed
him on her way to the office. This was his cue to collect the door takings
and take them through to her to cash up. He would also collect up the bulk
of the bar tills cash. Having to take his eyes off Betsy left Norman with an
empty feeling.
Nancy was so pleased to hear Norman knock on the office door. She saw
him on the desktop monitor and pressed the door release button. He had the
notes in his enormous inside jacket pocket. Lottery Lenny had watched his
back all the way. With the money on the desk, Nancy wrapped herself
around her man. Norman managed to respond, but was still besotted with
Betsy. He was ready for sex, Nancy was there and it was her shout. She
turned her back on him leaned and braced herself on the desk. He lifted up
her skirt, as she was not wearing knickers, he realised she had once again
planned her sex for the day. Norman had no problem, still stiff from the
sight of Betsy; he fucked Nancy so hard she wept with pleasure as she
climaxed. Norman remained silent but satisfied; he noticed looking down a
blond hair trapped in his watch-strap and recalled this was his second
session of the day. Nancy cashed-up once alone again in the office.
Back in the venue Norman caught the last act in full swing. Mickey Finn
was an East ender. Doc couldnt stand him, but audiences could. Much of
his patter was about his fictional ex-wife and the ever-changing East End,
taking the Mickey as he called it, out of the Nouveau Pauvre. If my poor
old Gran could see that, or, Its the fucking principal mate, he would
bellow at the end of most sentences. My Mrs. silly cow, doesnt know that
petrol prices go up cause she always buys a tenners worth; shes my ex-
wife actually, moan, even now, reckons Im earning a fortune and shes only
getting 99% of it. Before I started this stand-up lark you know, I ad a proper
job, working in a newsagents, assistant Manager actually baldy not paper
boy. He yelled into the crowd. As I was saying, fing that used to crack
me up, Trade Mags. It doesnt matter what it is they got a Mag. for it.
Sandwich Weekly, I ask you, industrial Flooring Up-date, that must be an
exciting read. Norman applauded, he liked Mickey. Vegetarian Sex Tips,
no not really I just made that one up. Vegetarians though, aye, fucking right
pain in the arses or what. Why do they always insist on going into
restaurants, not Vegetarian Restaurants and the first thing they ask is what
Vegetarian dishes do you serve. I ask you, come on come on. Having been
Eugene Binx
offered a cheese salad or an omelette, they then complain how Vegetarians

are never catered for. Ah, one fucking day Im going to go into a Vegetarian
Restaurant and guess what, yeah the first thing Ill ask is, what Meat Dishes
do you serve; fucking Hippies.
Nancy made her way through the crowd to Norman.
Alright if Lenny walks me to my door?
Sure, he nodded.
Have a nice Xmas day with your family, see you Boxing Day, she
whispered and kissed his ear.
Boxing day, enquired Norman.
I always go to visit Katie and Ernest on Boxing Day, cant wait, bye,
she shrilled over the laughter.
And anuva fing that winds me up, Stand-up Comedians, continued
Mickey.
The evening finished in good humour, with many of the customers still
laughing as they left the Two Buttocks in record time by 1.am Xmas day.
Patrick and B.A. organised drinks for the staff. Mickey Finn had hung on
for a free booze, as had Betsy Norfolk. Champagne on ice sat on the bar,
Mickey proposed a toast, Trevor McDonald, he said. They all relaxed,
settled into groups and reflected on the first part year of the Two Buttocks.
The comics at their table were all trying to upstage each other in different
ways. Norman sat with them but kept quiet; he chain-smoked and was
drinking fast. Doc and his helpers left first. Norman then opened up,
enjoying a conversation with Mickey. Betsy was more relaxed now it was
just the three of them. The booze flowed. Thank fuck hes gawn, insisted
Mickey.
Hes made this place work though, answered up Norman.
Ill drink to that, added Betsy.
The bar staff wished the three a happy Xmas as their taxes arrived and
Patrick went upstairs Norman locked the door behind them. He excused
himself as he collected the bar tills and took them through to the office and
into the safe. He then just sat behind the desk reflecting on his lot in life.
B.A. was now fighting a losing battle with Mickey on the subject of her
Art, So why call it Ceramics if its Pottery, he said. I did Pottery at
school, juniors though. Heres a bit advice for you, if you want to make
some serious dosh, invent a glaze that shit dont stick to. Goodnight girls.
He downed the last of his drink and scarpered under the most contemptible
stares imaginable out into the relative safety of the streets of East London.
Hating that little scumbag is perhaps all you and I have in common,
blurted B.A. through her braced teeth as she made her way upstairs to the
flat.
Mickey says goodnight, B.A. doesnt, said Betsy as she entered the
office. I locked the doors behind them.
Lets get back to our drinks then, said Norman in a nervous tone. He
followed Betsy still dressed in her stage clothes back through to the bar. I
love sitting here when the customers have gone, he said.
Yeah I can understand that, she replied, so Norman who are you and
what brought you here?
Norman told her a well-edited version of his life story; as he left out
Nancy and Katie, she asked him what he did for sex these days. Im afraid I
cant answer that, you know client confidentiality.
Betsy laughed. She asked him what he had planned for the Xmas day. He
explained with head down.
You should come to mine, she offered, have your lunch with your
family and then come over. Im not going to my family till Boxing Day.
Your company would be great; we can try out material on each other as
were not rivals. Norman accepted her offer. They continued to talk,
Norman fancied Betsy like crazy, but he held back. His situation at that time
was complicated enough; he thought perhaps he could have Betsy as a friend
as they were kindred spirits. It was daylight as Norman suggested coffee
now they had solved all the Worlds problems. If only the Worlds leaders
would sit down and get pissed together, said Betsy. They left the Two
Buttocks together at 8am Xmas day. Betsy headed off in the opposite
direction to Norman. She would get a minicab home. Phone me later
Norman, if you can make it, or even if you cant, being her parting words.
He waved; she noticed a book in his hand.
Norman was pleased that Ernest and Katie were still fast asleep as he
tiptoed up the stairs and back into the sanctuary of his room. He undressed,
got into bed and prayed he would be undisturbed for a few hours at least. He
had overlooked the Xmas lunchtime session he must attend with the family
at the Prince of Wales. As Xmas day had fallen on a Thursday, the Two
Buttocks would not re-open till the following Wednesday New Years Eve. It
would then stay closed for re-decoration only to re-open on February the
14th. This change of routine for Norman was causing him much concern. He
had talked to Doc about him possibly doing stand-up at other venues. All
this was on his mind lying in his room as Ernest called him. Come on
Eugene Binx
Norman, its 11 oclock, bathrooms free, need to be down the Prince for
twelve. Norman, tired, confused but without a hangover responded. He
ventured downstairs in good time to be greeted by Ernest and Katie both
very excited at the day being Xmas. Katie had prepared the lunch which
would slow cook ready for their return.
First drink is free, said Ernest as the three set off. Soon they were all
settled in the smoke filled Pub. The jukebox played the Xmas standards.
Norman had to sit with Ernest and the lads from the brewery. Katie sat apart
with her group of ladies. At 2 oclock by tradition landlord Charles told
them all to piss off to their homes, if they had one. Sorry ladies for me
French, he would say every year, confirmed Katie as they left.
The smell of Katies cooking skills reminded Norman it was 24 hours
since he last ate. He noticed Ernest and Katie seemed close for the first time
since he arrived. The two men sat in armchairs, having helped themselves to
their McNaughtons supply. Ernest had poured Katie a very large sherry.
She clearly was flattered by his new found manners an attention. Norman
was just so relieved there was not a strained atmosphere. He even
considered the possibility that he had dreamed of the sex with Katie and
decided to leave it there. Pushing his luck even further he mentioned his
invitation from Betsy. Ernest thought it about time Norman found a young
lady, even if she was called Betsy and did turns. Katie seemed absolutely
relieved.
Shes not a Lebanese is she? Lot of them about these days, shouted
Ernest.
He means Lesbian, Norman, but just ignore him, shouted Katie even
louder.
Norman was sent into the hallway to phone his parents and wish them a
happy Xmas, before being allowed his lunch. He nearly passed out waiting
to tuck in.
Next came presents from around the tree. Nancy had taken care of this for
Norman, so all were very happy. Norman took note of these token gifts and
their responses; he thought he could do a routine on this.
As it was still just Daylight, he decided to check out if his invitation from
Betsy was still on. He phoned her from the outside toilet as he relieved
himself. Whats that noise, she enquired.
Just doing the washing up, replied Norman. Betsy gave him her address.
He made his excuses to Ernest and Katie and headed off for the local
minicab office.
Dock head please, asked Norman. A few minutes later just south of the
river Norman caught sight of Betsy. He stopped the cab. She had insisted on
meeting him there, as she needed to stretch her legs. Betsy lived alone and
had spent the day so far, on her own. They went for a walk at first, she led
him through some old back streets to the river; Norman loved it, all was new
and exciting to him as they viewed Tower Bridge and sat on a metal bench.
Norman had lived in the very small world of Ernest and Katie since coming
to London whilst all this was just round the corner.
They headed back to Dockhead and onto the wharf side apartment which
was home to Betsy. Behind iron gates a cobblestone courtyard welcomed
them. She lived on the ground floor. They entered though a solid wooden
door. For Norman he had entered a new world. The apartment was like
something out of a film, a massive studio apartment. A Zen space thought
Norman, only the bathroom was not at first visible as they entered the huge
living area. Not wishing to seem uneasy he settled into a massive armchair.
Betsy called him over to the glass doors she had opened. There he marvelled
in silence as the River Thames filled the wharf. Betsy pointed to the end of
the block of apartments where the Thames flowed by. I feed ducks from
here and even swans come, she exclaimed.
The two then settled in the centre of the room. Betsy offered Norman red
or white wine, he took red and got his own bottle, Betsy hers. The
conversation easily picked up from their last meeting. Cigarette smoke hung
in the air-changing colour as it passed through the coloured spotlights. The
background music, unknown to Norman, seemed perfect to oil their time
together. He braved a trip to the toilet, It just gets better, he thought, this
is great, what a shower-room and a bath. He could see himself in the tub; it
has space for drinks, perhaps a cigarette and relax just relax he thought, but
not on your own, she must share this but with whom had Betsy shared all
this? He returned to the main room, the incense now burning added to his
wonder as Betsy smiled. They chatted for hours, she was interested in his
career plans adding, There is talk of you on the circuit you know, well
Docs circuit anyway.
Norman discovered he had an ego, Who were they and what was the
circuit? He asked in an embarrassed manner.
Betsy explained it all to him, he may have become a stand-up by default,
but he had to take control now. She would work with him, Doc was offering
too, So, Norman she said, make today the first day of the best of your
life.
Norman sighed, If only.
Betsy dimmed the lights as the river rose outside the apartment. Just
relax now for a while, she whispered. Then changing the music to suit, she
Eugene Binx
closed her eyes and dozed. Norman did the same, an hour passed with their
silence.
On opening her eyes, Betsy gazed at Norman for a while as if deciding.
She then walked to him. As he slept she tugged his arm in time with his
breathing. His eyes opened as she led him to the bathroom. There she
undressed before entering the large shower room. Norman did the same as
he came to his senses. In the showers she passed him fruit scented gels. The
water was a perfect temperature, the noise like a waterfall. Betsy had her
back to Norman as he massaged the gel into her soft skin working his way
down her body. She then leant over the controls, he worked the lather
between her legs and she turned the shower off. Norman convinced he must
be in a dream, entered her easily. Betsy moaned with pleasure, she turned
the showers back on gently. As he enjoyed her he had uninvited thoughts, he
heard the John Lennon song in his head. So this is Xmas and what have you
done, I have fucked three women in 36 hours is what Ive done, thats one
every 12 hours John, he smiled. Is this, what they call stand up comedy he
asked himself, as they both climaxed then continued to shower. Betsy
turned round showing her very small quite perfectly formed breasts to her
lover. She held them in her hands offering them to him with bright pink
erect nipples. He fondled them, Follow me, she said. Leading him first to
the towel rack where they dried each other off, then through to her king-size
bed back in the living area. The unmemorable perfect music was still
repeating as in the darkened end of the room they enjoyed each others naked
bodies, both bringing the other to climax again before falling into deep
sleep.
Norman awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking. He peered over the
duvet to see Betsy in all her tall slender beauty moving around the apartment
at lightning speed. She was cooking, cleaning and to his complete
amazement practicing on her baby grand piano. He rose, not embarrassed by
his nakedness, wished her a good morning, waved and walked through to the
bath suit. After a great shower, he grabbed a clean towel and located his
clothes. Back in the living area he lit a cigarette and swigged his glass of red
wine. Betsy carried their cooked breakfast to a small table, set just inside the
balcony doors overlooking the high tide. The room was very cold. She
placed a bottle of red wine centre table. Come Norman breakfast and fresh
wine she beckoned him. They tucked into a hearty, meaty breakfast washed
down with the wine. The coffee that followed with sweet pancakes sobered
the pair somewhat.
I think we can say we bonded last night Norman, said Betsy, Lets stay
friends for ever.
Sounds just perfect to me, Norman replied straight away and without
any visible thought.
It was still only 8am Boxing day. Norman cleared away the breakfast
mess. Betsy returned to speeding round the room. She stripped the bed
depositing soiled linen into her washing machine, produced fresh bedding
and threw various personal items into a suitcase.
I have a taxi booked for 8.30, Betsy announced. It can take you home
after it drops me off at Liverpool Street Station. I have to spend a few days
with my family in Norfolk but Ill call you when I get back.
They were soon in the cab and Norman returned home. He tiptoed to his
room without incident, to await his next challenge. He continued with his
reading.
That was Nancy on the phone, Shouted Katie at Normans door waking
him, shes on her way over. Norman stirred, rolling over onto Nigels Zen
book. He felt pretty clean after all that showering at Betsys, so just went to
the bathroom to wet his hair. Back in his room he worked some gel into his
head with his fingers. That done he braved the world of Ernest and Katie.
She was busy in the kitchen and explained Ernest had been banished from
the house to tidy the already tidy backyard. He gives off some terrible
smells Xmas time, same every year, all the rich food and the booze of
course. Good job the brewery doesnt smell like him else no-one would
want to work there, or buy the beer, she moaned. Then pulling the back
door closed she addressed Norman, Need a word really, she started,
Xmas eve, awkward really, got me going again really, after, I got thinking
how to put things right. It wasnt that wrong! We are not related flesh and
blood wise. But Im still your Auntie, old one at that, so I just needed to
move on for both of us really. Later that night, for the first time since that
night the Labour party got in, I slept with Ernest.
Well it is Xmas, said Norman, the time of giving, Auntie.
That will do, thank you very much Norman, he recalled this haute tone.
So no need to dwell on the past is there, certain things best left to lie.
Of course Auntie Katie, talking of which, perhaps we could not mention
Betsy today, with Nancy coming over I would prefer not to, he added.
Best you tell Ernest that right now, she said opening the back door,
hes the blabber mouth.
Norman had a word with Ernest and they came inside together. We
should get along to the Prince now, insisted Ernest. Nancy will know
where to find us. The three set off just past mid-day. Like old times, said
Ernest. We dont see so much of you Norman, since the two thingies
opened.
Eugene Binx
Buttocks, shouted Katie, Norman laughed, they all laughed. Well,

thought Norman to himself, Thats one down, two still to get sorted on the
women front. They entered the pub.
Norman knew the plan. He would sit with Ernest and the lads from the
brewery. Katie would sit with her ladies, to be joined by Nancy. Katie and
Nancy would leave the pub to go to the house and get lunch sorted. Charles
would throw Ernest and Norman out of the pub at 3.15. Lunch would
follow, then Monopoly. Norman had told Katie he didnt understand how
more than one person could play Monopoly; shed clipped him round the
ear, Smart ass, shed called him.
The Prince of Wales was very busy, through the smoke rising from their
table Norman saw the security man from the brewery walk by. He strolled
over to the ladies table, leant over to whisper to Katie. She let out an
enormous shriek, and then burst into inconsolable wailing. Her lady friends
did try to comfort her, without success. Ted the security man stepped back
turning to Ernest. Norman heard the words, Its Nancy, she has been killed
in a car crash, he said, she was coming here in a minicab when a coach in
the Old Kent Road hit them. The police told her family, they phoned the
brewery, Im so sorry.
Charles had stood beside Ernest as Ted broke the news, he went back
behind the bar, turned the music off and then the lights. He sent his barmaids
round telling customers a tragedy had occurred. It was 2 oclock some
customers, not locals, left out of respect. Charles passed around brandy
bottles.
Norman could not speak, or move. However as Katies cries became
louder, he moved to her holding her tightly. He looked over at Ernest,
flicked his head to invite him to come over and take his wife. Ernest just
about got the hint and walked over; Norman gently passed Katie over to
him. Best if you take Auntie home, he said. Ernest nodded and led his
wife out of the pub. Her lady friends still wept, quietly. The Boxing Day had
just ground to a halt. Norman sat back down with the lads from the brewery.
Charles joined them, putting his hand on Normans shoulder, only to
comfort him because he was the youngest to be effected by the news. No
one knew he had been Nancys last lover.
On this tragic day, Norman stayed put in the pub. He wanted to give
Ernest and Katie time and privacy, after all it was their home and their
friend, he thought long and hard. He decided to return home as planned at
3.15. He entered the house, Ernest was sat in his armchair, he told Norman,
Katie had taken her painkillers and gone to bed. Norman switched off the
oven, then poured brandy for the two of them. Charles had insisted he take a
bottle home. They sat in silence as the room became darker and darker and
then just dark. Normans cigarette glow providing occasional light. Our
little secret, those words he kept hearing in his head, Nancy had taken the
secret with her now.
Early evening Ernest rose from his chair, put his hand out to hold
Normans, nodded his head and went to join Katie. The effect of the brandy
caused Norman to feel nothing at this time; a little sick, wretched and lost
perhaps, but no feelings he could focus on and deal with. He creped out of
the house and walked the short distance to Nancys. There was a light
outside, that came on in the dark Norman knew this. He sat on her wall and
wept. When he could cry no more without looking back he returned home.
There was plenty of brandy left in the bottle; he put the television on low
volume allowing himself to be sucked into the programmes he was
watching. Firstly he was a cowboy then a gangster, then asleep.
This morning after Boxing Day being Saturday brought some familiar
sounds, to awaken Norman. The milkman, the papers and junk mail rattling,
even children playing with their Xmas presents. He had slept the whole
night in the armchair, out of respect really and confusion. Having never
known anybody before to die, Norman was on a learning curve. He heard
noises from above, Katie then walked into the lounge. She had put the kettle
on then sat at the table, lit a cigarette and looked over at Norman.
She was like the sister I wish I had, we were closer than I was with your
mum, said Katie.
Same sort of thing with me, replied Norman.
Katie not understanding his reply said, If you want to get away from all
of this, we would understand, come back in a few weeks or so, up to you,
our problem.
Nancy was my friend as well as my boss, answered Norman, so I will
stay around if thats O.K. with you two, I would like to help you both
through this.
Tea Norman, she offered, Id better take Ernest up a cup. Norman
accepted her offer. The weekend had now got going. Norman and Ernest
slouched around; Katie was busy on the phone. She talked at great lengths to
Nancys family. As the three of them would not return to their work at the
brewery until the first week in the New Year, Katie instructed the two men
to start getting out from under her feet, as soon as they liked. She took to
cleaning the house non-stop with old pairs of Ernests Y-Fronts as her way
of dealing with Nancys death. Ernest did as he would always do in holiday
time nothing, apart from go to the pub twice a day. There, Katies ladies
were absent, often to be found visiting each other.
Norman found comfort and understanding from reading Nigels book; in
his room he waited for life to come to him, it did, via his mobile phone.
Eugene Binx
Sunday evening, two calls. Betsy first, had suffered enough of Norfolk and
was returning to London the following day. Paddy, concerned about the
future of his Two Buttocks called just after. He wished to meet up with
Norman at the venue the following day.
Having now been motivated Norman ventured out to catch the last hour
with Ernest at the Prince. The lads sat telling old brewery tales of former
mates and how they had died. Norman could only stand this morbid time by
wandering what plans Betsy and Paddy had for him in their heads.
Early Monday morning, Katie set the routine for the rest of their time off.
I want you two down here for breakfast at 8.30 just imagine youre in a
hotel, she said in sarcastic tone, only in this one you both wash up after.
Her voice had echoed round the small upstairs. The two men made it on
time; both demolished a full cooked breakfast. Whilst they washed up Ernest
complained, Katie why do we only get this condemnation in the winter?
Its condensation you half-wit and do you want it in the summer as well?
Norman was embarrassed by their minor tiffs, but amused by Ernests
misuse of words.
Katie went on to talk of the funeral, Nancys family would make all the
arrangements. Katie would invite all that needed, from her side of the river.
Nancy would be buried beside her late husband in South West London, on
New Years Eve at mid-day.
Ernest nearly chocked over his cup of tea. New Years Eve! he
exclaimed in disbelief.
You have a problem with that dear, busy are you? Ill explain,
whispered Katie, her family feel she should be buried the same year as she
died, so at great expense they have arranged it. I agree.
Normans phone rang allowing him to sprint back upstairs to safety. It
was Paddy, Im at the pub now, come round when it suits, boy. Norman
grabbed his long black coat and set off the short distance. Outside the Two
Buttocks he noticed a brand new Jaguar. Wonder how many laughs that
cost, thought Norman, guessing it would belong to Paddy.
See youre suitably dressed, Young Norman, said Paddy, sat waiting in
the bar.
The only coat I got. Answered Norman, but youre right.
Paddy gestured, Sit down son, we need to talk. Im gutted, I cant tell the
wife, itll kill her stone dead. Shes only got months now herself. He
lowered his head. Must talk though. The funerals New Years Eve. I will
not open out of respect that night. We will re-open as Nancy planned
Valentines night, good idea that was, theres loads to get sorted here first
though and regulation stuff now the fucking councils found out were a
venue. I would like you to take over as the manager here. She would have
wanted that, what you say boy?
Norman thought the assumption that dead people, Would have wanted
that, as obscene as it gets. He bit his tongue and paused, If youre sure, he
answered.
Yes heres my mobile number Norman, the work doesnt start here till
first full week in the New Year and well talk before then. Youll need to
give your notice in at the brewery. See you at the funeral.
Norman left Paddy sitting there. He let himself out. Walking back home
his thoughts were on Paddy, What sort of man was he? Nancy knew. His
life was again getting complicated, now he had to leave the brewery. He
looked forward to hearing from Betsy; perhaps he could share all his news
with her. Ernest was fleeing the house as he arrived, on his way to the
snooker hall to meet up with the some brewery lads, to pass the morning.
Norman just nodded as he passed Katie on the way to his room. Neither
wanted small talk. Behind the closed door he continued to read Nigels
book. Having been an only child an adopted one at that, he had meditated
for years at home, thinking it was boredom and loneliness, only now to
discover it was religion. He relaxed into his read, only to stop when his
phone rang. It was early afternoon, it was Betsy. The line was bad, she was
on a train. A railway bridge cut the call off; she phoned back.
Hi Norman, she screamed into his ear. Can you meat me today? I cant
hear you, come to my flat, 3 oclock please, bye. She could have heard
Norman, he knew that, but she wanted it her way.
He was now delighted and returned to his book giving it the most serious
consideration.
3 oclock, Norman got out of a cab and rang Betsys doorbell from the
large iron gates that led to the courtyard. She answered, releasing the entry
lock for him. He walked through to her apartment situated on ground floor
level; the front door was left just open. He ambled into the lounge. There,
Betsy was busy, cooking for the two of them. She faced and greeted him.
Its so good to see you. Family is so hard, friends are so easy, and I need
to talk to you so much.
So so, said Norman. Betsy laughed.
Lets eat and drink and smoke and work and have sex in that order, she
shouted.
Eugene Binx
The two worked well together, Norman prepared the table to overlook the
high tide and Betsy poured wine as she threw all sorts of ingredients into a
large wok. Flames shot up as she missed with one hand full. They needed
each other and now they had each other. They ate in the freezing cold with
the balcony doors open. Both seemed happy to do this, a pop video was
projected onto a large screen, Norman enjoyed Betsys world. After a
poppadom was blown off the table, Betsy asked Norman to close the doors.
Sorry about that, but I just love to air out the flat, she explained.
I have some very sad news, stated Norman, Nancy has been killed on
Boxing Day in a car crash. She was very close to my family. Paddy the
owner of the Two Buttocks, not literally, well yes literally has made me the
new manager.
Betsy re-lit a candle before her reply, That is indeed very sad news, I
didnt really know Nancy. Doc spoke highly of her. She then lit another
cigarette off the candle and spoke again, You are now a powerful man
Norman Frank Junior Smith, sure glad Im fucking you, Mr. President, she
laughed and so did Norman. She continued in her American accent, So why
not stick around for a couple of days honey, let me show you my new act.
Norman used his mobile, Hi Katie sorry to disturb you, just to let you
know. I am going to be staying a couple of days with Betsy. I will see you
for the funeral, take care. Betsy cleared away their empty plates; they sat
and drank more of the wine. Norman mentioned his reading Nigels book on
Zen.
Pity Nigel didnt read it, said Betsy, might not have gone off on one,
still. So you will need to meditate now Norman if you want to control all
that has falling into your lap including me, pardon the pun. You see, with
you being a stand up guy, in the comedy sense of course, itll keep the Doc
on his toes.
He wants to manage me, replied Norman, get me out to other venues.
That could be a very complicated affair now.
I will talk to him after the funeral; our crowd will end up at the Prince.
Lets go for a long or short walk along the riverside. Then when we get
back the flat will be roasting. More wine and anything you want Mr.
President, her acting made Norman laugh as he agreed to their walk.
Gee its just like in the movies, Norman now acted with Betsy. They
played American tourists as they walked and talked. On their way back
Betsy insisted they both do a stand up routine. She did her, Horse riding can
be very satisfying my dearys. Norman had not heard it before, he was
impressed. He did his Is there a doctor in the house, Betsy was even more
impressed.
Tomorrow, exclaimed Betsy, lets work on our routines. I will coach
you! And you I! Kind sir, for together we shall rule. You the king of stand-
up and me the Queen, what say you my noble Lord?
Buttocks, the Two Buttocks, Norman replied, that will be our castle
wench. Their pace now quickened, the cold night brought on their sexual
desires. On their return they were not to be denied them.
The following morning, Normans mobile woke the pair from their
entangled sleep. He wandered over to admire the tide filling the wharf as he
listened to Katie. She confirmed the following days funeral arrangements.
The brewery bosses had booked a coach to take their workforce and
companions to the event. The char-a-banc as Ernest had named it would
depart from the brewery at 10.45am sharp. No drinking allowed on the
journey. Betsy over-heard the conversation; she gagged her amusement,
under the duvet, but only just. Norman with the call completed returned to
bed, much to Betsys delight.
Do you want to come? he asked.
Yes please, responded Betsy as she climbed on top of him.
No not that, I meant the funeral, wench.
Let me just dismount, she said. Difficult to think in the saddle. I guess
your family will need your undivided support. I will meet you back at the
Prince later O.K.
Youre just perfect, said Norman as he lifted her back on top of himself.
They got up mid-morning, and knocked up breakfast between them. After
they settled down in the easy chairs. With fresh coffee and cigarettes on tap,
they started under the direction of Betsy to work. She pushed him hard, he
had good observations on life and Betsy would bring it all out, but not in a
day. She insisted he keep going, so he did. Early afternoon, Norman had
gone to the toilet. Betsy quickly made a phone call. Hi Doc I must be
quick, he is good, I mean promising and hes reading that book on Zen you
gave Nigel, that might even help. Ill call you tomorrow, cheers, fucking
answer phones!
Norman returned and demanded a break. Betsy dragged him off to a local
restaurant. All the staff knew Betsy and they made the couple welcome,
Norman loved it and fell deeper into Betsys world. They spent over two
happy hours before staggering the short distance back to the apartment.
After having a pot of coffee to sober up, Betsy pushed on with more of the
same for Norman. She provoked him to perform.
Eugene Binx
Politics, she screamed, fucking politics, what about that. Lets talk
politics, no, you talk politics. Tony Blair now theres a big fucking target.
Norman bit, Well he did heal a lot of people, that first time he walked
into Downing Street. It was even better than Jesus, cause it was on the tele,
so the whole world saw it live. It was the second coming and he was
English, just like the Beatles and Frank Bruno and Carol Vorderman. But
then they got to him, M I 5 or was it 6, just like the C I A with Kennedy,
they thought he was Jesus so they killed him. But over here, they thought no
no no, we cant get away with that. So they drugged him, thats why he
started to play the guitar, so then he was fucking stoned all the time man.
Then he was so fucking out of it he starts bombing other countries, claiming
hes got to save us cause we are the chosen ones.
Now wars, thats a funny one, unless youre in the front row of course.
You know thats one of the few opportunities that poor people get in life to
be at the front of the queue. Only of course because its the queue for death.
You never hear much about the Swiss Army do you. I suppose those Swiss
Army Knives dont exactly scare the fuck out anyone unless youre an
unopened tin of beans or a bottle of beer. The Swiss still have conscription,
yeah even the likes of Roger Federer have to do their bit. I dont know,
which is more scary the Swiss Army Knife or a tennis ball.
Not bad, said Betsy. For a bit of spontaneous, itll do. But if we are
going to get you going, its a diet of comedy, comedy and more comedy for
you. More coffee? Both lit up as they sat back and chatted of life, death
and the bits between. Norman expressed his view, That all athletes should
be allowed to take drugs. The public deserve honesty, this guarantees it,
and the events would be better to watch. Imagine the mile as a sprint, why
the fuck not. Its the only way people will keep watching this stuff. What
about those paraplegics they dont get drug tested, they must be on drugs
man, see how fast they fucking go. What about those cameramen. They are
such perverts; they get right up there with those cameras. Did you know
mens athletics has a massive gay audience, at home of course? They invite
some friends round, few beers, next minute they got 8 massive dicks running
towards them on their wide screen. It doesnt get more interactive than that;
its porn on the beeb. Thats what you pay your fucking licence for,
subsidising minority T.V. Where can you find a family programme these
days aye, even the nature programmes are full of animals shagging each
other, gives my dog a hard on.
Betsy just let Norman rant on; he had a whole lot to say about D.I.Y.
shows on the tele. He was learning his new trade well; having listened to
countless others perform at the Two Buttocks over the last six months.
Somewhat exhausted they took to the shower room, and then rounded
their evening off in bed watching old movies. Norman was finding all this
rather surreal before the wine got the better of him and he joined Betsy in a
deep sleep.
Betsy woke him for sex at daylight, having put some breakfast onto cook.
Just a quickie, she whispered into his ear, Multi-tasking they call it now.
Norman was nervous before attending his first funeral He received a call
over breakfast from Paddy. He would be giving a lift to Doc and some of the
staff.
It was very cold as Norman set off back home; he walked to a nearby cab
office to get some fresh air and exercise. He was aware he had spent a long
time in the flat. The cab soon pulled up outside Ernest and Katies tiny
house. They had dressed ready to go in good time. Ernest sat at the dining
table forbidden to move, Katie was tidying up. The house was in mourning,
no tele or even Ernests radio permitted. Norman mused if he should
strangle the cuckoo in the front room clock, but kept this to himself. At
10.30 the three set off on the short walk to the Brewery.
Eugene Binx
Chapter Five - Three Comedians and a Funeral
The coach was on time. A seat had been reserved for Norman beside
Lottery Lenny. They sat just behind Ernest and Katie. Lenny spent the
whole journey studying probabilities, his latest assault on the Lottery.
Smoking was allowed causing poor visibility on board. With no air-
conditioning on the old coach, the driver kept opening the front door to
bring in fresh air, which froze the brewery workers into stony silence.
Nancys family watched the arrival fall out of the coach in a cloud of
smoke; it was a pantomime. Katie and Nancys sister wore veils; they
hugged and cried at everything. Lenny tried to get investors for his new
lottery system. All the lads from the brewery had cigarette ash on their
creased suits. The cold had brought out their booze red noses and goose
bumped wives who were spilling out from both ends of their 60s outfits. The
brewery boss was unable to attend, being still locked up for drunken driving
from the night before. Norman was asked to speak up as he was the most
educated of the brewery contingent. He was able to deliver the feelings of all
from the brewery well enough to keep Katie crying. Nancys sister unable to
speak had delegated her words to her husband. He would of made a good
stand-up thought Norman. The Vicar tried to convince everyone Nancy had
gone to a better place, An easy argument to win these days, remarked
Lenny to Norman.
It had been agreed before hand, a toast would take place at the graveside,
after which friends and family would go their separate ways. Lenny known
as a member of the local toastmasters guild presided by default. Nancy
Trollope, he managed. Nothing to controversial with that, Norman
advised him on their return journey. Paddy had gone to the wrong cemetery
before getting a puncture; Doc had been unable to find the jack whilst Paddy
kept warm in the car. The break down service had got them back on the road
just in time to hear and drink to Lennys toast.
Charles at the Prince of Wales had laid on a modest spread for their
return. He was an old fashioned landlord and didnt agree with, Food or
Women in pubs. Norman was determined not to get drunk today, well not
there anyway. He sat with Patrick, Doc. and the barmaids from the Two
Buttocks. Again Lenny got to toast Nancy, he stuck to his tried and tested
Nancy Trollope. They all stood for this as he directed and it seemed to now
relegate Nancy to just another old brewery tale. Shortly after, Ernest took
Katie off home. Norman and his staff made small talk having agreed to meet
up the following week to discuss the New Year at the Two Buttocks. Patrick
had to return to his day job, leaving Norman and Doc to exchange a few
words; they went up to the bar for more drinks.
Patricks a Hospital Porter weird aye whispered Norman.
All this has really got to me, started Doc, I know you and her were
close.
We werent close, replied Norman, she would not have let anybody get
there. But the news of her death was devastating, that book has helped me
cope. He was interrupted as Betsy arrived at the bar; she kissed both men,
smiled and joined them at their table. First she got Normans account of the
day followed by the Doc version.
Having been deserted by their colleagues, Norman, Doc and Betsy
decided to call in at the Two Buttocks. Switching on just the exit sign lights
not to show their presence, they shared a bottle of red wine. Normans
ringing of a 10 note into the till echoed.
The three toasted Nancy, Goodbye from the Two Buttocks.
At least no one said those grating words, at least she didnt suffer, added
Doc.
Im not fucking surprised, snapped Norman, she was crushed to death
by a lorry.
No, you know what I mean. Pleaded Doc, when people say, at least it
was sudden or they didnt suffer a long illness. When they really mean,
thank fuck it was quick so no-one else had to suffer with them. I hate that.
Can we change the subject please, enquired Betsy.
The men nodded and the conversation gently drifted into the three of them
working together on Normans stand-up career. Betsy confessed she had,
Known old Doc for yonks and she had been at University with his wife
Shauna. Adding that, She suffered from compulsive disorder order, but a
real career lady now, wish I had her salary to spend, aye Doc oh! I forgot,
you do.
Aye Doc is a race course I believe, answered Doc in a laughing and
mocking tone.
Early that evening they taxied round to Betsys local eatery. She
suggested they Get in and out before the New Years Eve brigade arrived,
wearing their silly hats, blowing those awful plastic things. And of course
tonight is mobile phone eve. There will be enough fucking radiation
bouncing about to keep the food hot on their plates for hours. The two men
laughed at Betsy as they ate their starters, a free bottle of red wine had been
placed on their table by the restaurateur.
Eugene Binx
I think theres a sad irony to New Years Eve, added Doc, reminds me
of the turkeys looking forward to Xmas gag. Its weird people actually
celebrating being a year nearer to death.
Ill drink to that, responded Nancy, Norman!
Ill drink and eat to that, he announced and he did. A much lager human
specimen than his companions, he consumed, A mountain of food washed
down by a passing river of red wine, pointed out Doc as he turned a touch
rather poetic with the assistance of, The cooking brandy, as he claimed just
prior to falling back off his chair into the lap of a women trying to breast-
feed her baby. Doc had a fresh shaven head this day and for a brief moment
it looked like the women had three breasts. Her partner, a six foot female
and would-be Worlds Strongest Women contestant, insisted Doc, Voz very
drunk, in a German accent and he should, Leaves ze restaurant. Norman
stood up towering over the situation, picked Doc up as he had done at the
venue one evening. He pointed out to the still smiling waiter, that he had left
plenty of money on the table, Buy the kid a milk on me and have a drink
yourself Marshall, were leaving town. He added. To the amazement of
other diners the three left, Norman still carrying Doc like a puppet, shouting,
Auf Wiedersehen Pet, loudly back at the outraged Frulein.
Outside they all fell about with laughter, the fresh air brought Doc round
enough to stand on his own. Norman and Betsy through silent mutual
consent walked him back to her place. There they laid him on a sofa placing
the glass of wine he requested by his side, then he fell into a deep sleep.
Norman and Betsy shared a pot of coffee and a packet of cigarettes as they
watched another tide send the river past the apartment for their added
pleasure. This was the most if not the first exciting period in Normans life.
He still had the significance of the day engraved on his mind but could not
bring Nancy back to life, so he had moved on and into the shower room with
Betsy. They both slept as a New Year started only to be woken by Doc
playing the piano in the early hours. He then played them back to sleep
before he tiptoed away, leaving a thank you note stuck to the wc; It read Doc
was here P.S. thanks for the meal It voz good ya!
It was just before mid-day the two started to take stock of their hangovers
from under the duvet. Betsy produced sparkling medication in the form of
chilled Moet, orange juice and painkillers. They then opted for a light
breakfast, toast, coffee, cigarettes and sex. A mid-afternoon walk was
initiated by Betsy; they walked up to London Bridge along the
riverbank. She took him over the bridge for a glimpse of the City. When
near to dropping of post over-indulgence she hailed a passing cab and
directed it homeward.
They broke their journey to return to the scene of Docs attempt at

returning to the breast. The restaurant owner welcomed them in. They
enjoyed late afternoon tea and cakes, the place was busy with families. The
would-be comics studied the other customers. Mainly families that had
been unable to get baby sitters New Years Eve, remarked Betsy, so here
they are a New Years Day family treat. All desperate to get out of the house.
Theyve suffered Xmas, just look at them. He is desperate to get back to
work, she is desperate for him to get back to work and those little brats are
the worst things that could have happened to that relationship. They will
drive it apart as they force it to stay together. Norman listened at her
bitterness and agreed. Right thats our cue to fuck off, here that music,
said Betsy, Thats the Gypsy Kings doing, My Way. It doesnt get any
sadder than this. They walked back towards the apartment. Betsy suggested
there should be an equivalent to rehab clinic for those overweight Mums in
the restaurant. They could call it reheat, she shrieked with delight, lets
go see a new film. After a freshen-up they headed back out to the West
End, again another new experience for Norman. The film they agree is just
O.K. and leave before the end.
After an emergency visit to a McDonalds they high jacked an off duty taxi
and bribe him for a lift home. Armed with a bottle of vintage red, to
compliment the big-Macs Betsy served up a late dinner. Could never
understand why they took to calling these Freedom Fries in the states last
year, remarked Betsy, fuck it all up again fries, maybe. After they had
eaten, she turned up the cable music channel on the TV. on her way to
produce a huge chocolate gateau from the fridge. She danced her way to the
shower room, leaving Norman behind. He followed her and then dressed in
matching bathrobes they ate the entire desert washed down with another
bottle of red before falling into a pair of armchairs. A couple hours watching
the latest pop videos consisting mainly of near naked young firm flesh
reminded the pair of sex, so they had lots before their day ended.
The holiday is over, were the first words Betsy spoke to Norman next
morning. We need to see Doc today. So much to plan, your very own
stand-up career, the new year at the Two Buttocks and theres me of course.
You will need a comediennes touch in all of this you know. Norman
nodded as he wondered what she had in her mind. Betsy noticed this,
adding, As the boss, its time you made your first executive decision
Norman.
And that should be? he asked.
To hire me, of course, as your trusty assistant, she replied, you, Doc
and me, what a team. Look do I have to fuck you again to get this job or
what.
No, you have the job Miss Norfolk, he answered.
Eugene Binx
Ill fuck you anyway, she screamed.

Anyway? enquired Norman as he whispered his fantasy into her ear.
They lost most of the morning, without a care. After a light and non-
alcoholic late breakfast, Betsy left Norman to amuse himself while she went
off on a long bike ride. He chatted to Katie on the phone. She was dreading
going back to work the following week and having to sit in the office and
look at an empty desk once occupied by Nancy. Norman did his best to
comfort her, even offering to return home to start the new week with them.
With Betsy out for such a long time, he returned to Nigels book soon
becoming engrossed in it, deciding he perhaps should believe in something,
so this would do for now. Betsy found him sitting in a deep window ledge
meditating on her return; disturbed, he claimed to have nodded off.
You cant fool me, you fucking old hippie, laughed Betsy, youve been
reading that book and meditating. Well Ive been meditating too, whilst
riding my bike and decided we should go and pay the Doc a visit, right
now. She telephoned Doc; he was delighted to hear she and Norman were
on their way.
As they left the apartment, Betsy pointed at a car Norman had noticed on
his visits.
Get in then, she said, as the key concealed in her hand opened the door
locks from six paces. Norman struggled before giving up with the seat belt.
Betsy speeded away. This was to be another new experience for Norman.
They crossed Blackfriars Bridge to head north, passing Kings Cross,
Camden Town and the Round House at Chalk farm before the steep climb to
Hampstead. Before the tube station they turned left and entered, Poodle
Land, as Betsy called it, these Mansion blocks are full of eccentrics apart
from the old ladies with their poodles, look theres one. And of course
theres Doc, his career four-wheel drive wife and three, yes thats three
brats, Faith, Hope and Charity.
Lovely names, remarked Norman.
Not if your surname is Case, replied Betsy.
Oh I see, Charity-Case, oh dear.
As I was saying they all live with his mother in-law, now theres a real
fruitcake for you. She stopped giving her old clothes to the charity shop;
reckons she saw Osama Bin Laden wearing one of her favourite dresses on
the tele. Dont worry shes on her winter cruise. Shagging her way through
the crew in order of rank, probably down in the boiler room by now. Well
she has been at sea since November. Betsy pulled the car up to a halt on the
hand brake, Just like riding a horse, here we go and dont let me drink.
Doc greeted them, Welcome to Her Majestys Prison Hampstead, the

familys out today.
Thats a relief, exclaimed Betsy, I forgot my child spray.
I guess youre still a member of the Norfolk Friends of Herod Society
Betsy, replied Doc as he showed his visitors into a massive lounge
decorated in various colonial styles. There were three statues two Buddha,
one was laughing. Beautiful rugs were placed between the large leather
sofas. The writing on a mirror in the hallway read, Yes you are funny.
I see youre still a member of the Hampstead Friends of Harrods
Society.
Touch Betsy, this is bit like living in a museum really, said Doc.
Bit, replied Betsy, totally I should think.
Totally like living in a museum then, said Doc. They all laughed and
hugged each other.
Lets play hide and seek, suggested Betsy.
Tea for three my dear, ordered Doc, off you go; Norman and I will be
in the smoking room.
Betsy walked off towards the kitchen giving Doc the V sign as she
wiggled her ass at the two men.
If I was 30 years older, Id pay her for sex, Doc concluded.
In thirty years time shell pay you for sex, replied Norman somewhat in
awe of his surrounds.
You know Norman, the World is a call centre and it does my head in. I
wasted hours today trying to explain to some poor chap in the middle of
India about my Internet connection problem. I ended up feeling guilty, he
probably shares his pittance of a wage with his whole family and Im
moaning about my broadband. I should do a routine on that really; lighten it
up a bit of course.
The two waited for Betsy to join them with the tea and biscuits. As she sat
down, Doc piped up, You can be mother dear for our tea ceremony.
Sounds painful, replied Betsy as she poured, a toast, Clare Short.
They raised their teacups. Now lets get down to business, suggested
Doc.
They found talking easy. Norman announced Betsy would assist him at
the Two Buttocks. The 14th of February would still be the re-opening of the
Eugene Binx
venue. As the work being done there would only take place day- time, the
three would rehearse some evenings as well as audition new acts. Doc had
some bookings for Norman in January, a quiet time on the circuit. He would
not use his, Norman the Doorman, current stage name. After some
consideration he came up with Zen Warwickshire. Doc seemed pleased
with that and poured more tea for his guests.
Why, Zen Warwickshire? asked Betsy.
A bit like you really, Im from Warwickshire.
And the Zen bit? she said.
Norman pulled Nigels book from his large coat pocket and slapped it on
the table. Doc recognised it and then realised that it was in fact he that had
inspired Normans new stage name. He laughed, Good old Nigel he helps
you out when you want to get in.
After all agreed to meet up at the Two Buttocks after the weekend, Betsy
drove Norman away from North London.
Your place or mine, she asked.
Surprise me, he replied as she pulled up outside her local restaurant.
Im paying, is that a big enough surprise?
Thatll do me, he answered. They had dinner during which Norman
mentioned he would return home the following morning as Katie needed his
support through the weekend and at work on Monday. He must also give
notice at the Brewery, Couple of weeks I guess, he said nervously.
Betsy was on form, Ill drink to that me dearie, another bottle of this fine
old wine, she hollered at the owner. He was still amused by their last visit
with Doc and presented the wine as a gift. This turned out to be a long stay
in the restaurant. They could hear thunder in the distance and after several
large brandies and strong coffee they decide to head off to the apartment.
They would have to leave the car parked in the street and walk the short
distance. Just as they passed by, the darkened sky above them was sliced in
two by a streak of awesome lightning. They dived for cover inside the car,
the street was deserted and the rain dense as the car windows steamed up
whilst they engaged in what turned out to be sexual foreplay.
Against Normans advice Betsy started the engine and drove the short
distance up to the apartment-block gates. Sanctuary, she cried out as they
opened on her remote, we made it.
The courtyard was packed out with cars so Betsy parked just inside the
gates. As they walked on, the rain was filling every crevice in their path.
Betsy wanted to play in the courtyard. She jumped into the puddles and
kicked water at Norman, he ran off to shelter. Next, to his amazement she
propped herself out in the open up against a wall, allowing the rain to
cascade over her. It was as if she was under a waterfall and in the cold and
wet her nipples showed erect through her thin white blouse. Norman
watched and would control himself no more. He moved in on her. She
slipped away running into a covered parking area. Then on the bonnet of a
neighbours car, having taken off her knickers she offered herself face down.
Norman glad of at least some privacy in the shadows, lifted her short wet
skirt and fucked her. They were both detached from the world by now soon
climaxing together, this set the car alarm siren screeching and the lights
flashing, they fled the scene.
Back inside the apartment laughing they hung up their drenched clothes,
hot showered and fell asleep in the king-size bed within minutes. They slept
through to the following mid-day. Their breakfast was light, lingering over a
pot of strong coffee and cigarettes they chatted. Betsy opening up a bit
explaining that she temped for a living. Youre not kidding, added
Norman.
Ha ha ha Mr. Funny guy. I mean office stuff, you know, web design
work if I can get it. I did the Two Buttocks site for Doc, not that I got paid
for that of course and I just hate technology anyway. I reckon E-mails and
Texts are just two more ways for people to ignore me.
I was a temp since college, unskilled though. Got sent to some scary
factories, even an abattoir, Norman admitted.
Oh, you speak French Norman.
I had nightmares after that, still do, thats life.
Dont you mean death? You want a lift home?
Norman declined her offer, You still got enough alcohol in you to last a
week, he told her, then set off walking to the bus stop. The trip home he
found interesting and it gave him time to prepare to re-enter the world of
Ernest and Katie, he planned to continue reading his book that weekend.
Once inside those red brick walls he remembered what a prison it could
have been. The house was quiet, Katie in her room Ernest just back from the
Prince, now eating. Katie will be pleased youre back home, Ernest
blurted out between mouthfuls of stew, Norman ducked the spit.
Katie was pleased to see him, Now we can all face Monday together,
she insisted.
The weekend dragged by for Norman. Ernest was back into his routine,
Katie only ventured out for essential shopping. Norman was feeling like a
teenager again, in his room he read, tried meditating and responded when
Eugene Binx
called down to eat. The lack of life did however give him time to work on
new routines. He decided against contacting Betsy, he had business at home
and at the brewery to deal with.
Monday morning Ernest returned to work early on his own, leaving
Norman to escort Katie into her office. Duty done Norman returned to work
himself. Having later in the day given in his notice to Lenny, he felt relieved
as he returned home that evening. Katie went off to bingo, Ernest was at the
Prince playing darts, and Norman was delighted with his total privacy. He
ate the stew Katie had left out and watched the TV. Soon his phone got
busy. First was Paddy, off loading anything resembling work at the venue.
Next, Doc, he had been offered a cheap holiday and was phoning from an
airport Norman had never heard of, Just a couple of weeks or so, he
shouted over the top of the departure announcements. Oh, thats me. Betsy
will cover, Im paying her. Got your first gig booked, 31st. January, must fly,
cheers.
Norman was still stunned from the news of his first gig when Betsy called
up, Remember me? she asked, Im the one you fucked over the bonnet of
that Audi the other night and Im still sore.
I vaguely remember fucking somebody, youre sure it was an Audi?
Looked more like a Ford,
Well it sure felt like an Audi, argued Betsy, be funny if it belonged to
that Frulein in the restaurant, especially if shed seen us, or heard us, or
both. There are cameras in the courtyard; I hope we dont end up on, youve
Been Framed. They laughed and chatted away for an hour, mainly on the
merits of staying single, just one of their growing numbers of common
interests.
January was flying by for Norman and Betsy, with Doc extending his
holiday via E-mails to the venue office. He always brings gifts back and
claims theyre not tourist souvenirs, added Betsy. You know that, I met
this guy and he took me to his home and his blind mother makes these
beautiful necklaces bull-shit, I fucking hate that one.
Lenny had let Norman off with little notice from the Brewery, in return
for some Doorman work. The builders seemed to have dragged out the job
till another came along. Then left, leaving Norman a week of cleaning up.
However, he got through even seeing the funny side of things. At last the
three sat down in the office of, The New Two Buttocks, as Doc now called
it. He was full of praise for Norman and Betsy or, Guilt, Betsy claimed
was more likely.
I never have more than one holiday at a time though, Doc insisted, and
the kids needed a break.
Yeah from you, suggested Betsy, anyway, where did you go?
The States, Long Island.
What was it like?
Long and surrounded by water.
That must have been a shock, added Norman.
No, not really.
Someone told me theres an old blind lady that makes beautiful
necklaces on that Island.
Oh really Norman! I just brought you all back duty free cigs; you can
make a necklace out them if you like, you fucking wind-up merchants.
Betsy roared with laughter. She then noticed Docs passport on his desk.
I must just see your photo, she found it. Not bad Doc, she exclaimed, a
very handsome pose.
Well it would be would it not, its a photograph dear and they never lie,
I can never get the, oh! dont look at my passport picture it makes me look
what-ever. You know that Naomi Campbell and George Clooney have
never had a bad passport photo. Thats because their good-looking, like me.
Its only ugly people that have ugly passport photos believe me Im a
Doctor.
The three were excited and were enjoying each others company. Doc
revealed the identity of Normans first away gig. It was to be The Micro-
Wave in West London, on Saturday 31st of January. You cut that a bit
fucking fine Doc, exclaimed Betsy.
Get away you ugly old hag, replied Doc as they went on to other
matters.
With their meet up concluded, Betsy offered Doc a lift home. He hates
pubic transport, she pointed out to Norman as he locked the venue door
behind them. He then ran through some of his new ideas on the stage. Later
as he walked home and stopped off to sit on Nancys wall. He fought hard to
hold back his tears.
The rest of the week was fun for the three, Doc holding auditions and
rehearsals each day. Betsy was very busy in the office, working for the
venue and Doc; Norman finding his feet, then losing them, then trying to
find them again. He was getting nervous, as Saturday 31st was getting
nearer.
Eugene Binx
Doc had provided their transport to the Micro-wave; an old minicab

driven by a Rastafarian pulled up outside of Normans home. Ernest and
Katie insisted on giving him a wave off. Doc and Betsy were waving madly
back as the cab pulled away. Norman knew they were only winding him up
so he joined in the waving and it stopped; only he noticed as the cab passed
a, For Sale, sign outside Nancys house and his thoughts turned to her.
Doc explained that Betsy was first up on stage that night and that Norman
would close the first half of the show. By the way, added Doc, did I
mention I am compare tonight, No! I thought I did, a senior moment
perhaps. Norman mused to himself on these new revelations.
Chapter Six - Back to Work
The cab hit the curb outside of The Micro-Wave.

Who put dat ting dare, complained their driver.
Norman only noticed that people were queuing and this turned his
stomach. He had expected only a quiet first away gig in January. They
entered through a side door and tailed by their driver. Once safely inside
Doc took them off to the backstage bar and dressing area. Norman was
being introduced by the others to the rest of the nights acts. They were all
managed by Doc and they had heard about Norman. He however decided to
play it cool with them; Doc noticed his confident manner and liked it.
After some delays, Betsy was introduced, following some weird patter
from Doc on his holiday capers. Norman was not amused. Betsy however,
he found quite funny. She only received a polite response from the crowd
and that irritated Norman. He studied the other acts, on and off the stage. He
liked the guy who was billed as the Thompson Twins. There had been legal
problems at first over the name copy- right. Doc said they had won, as he
was in fact a solo act. Norman started to get into stage mode.
Youre up now, whispered Betsy. Norman got out of his easy chair,
shook his trousers downwards and waited. He heard Doc start his
introduction, A special event coming up, right now, right here, hes a big
fucker so dont laugh at him, its Mr. Zen Warwickshire.
Norman slowly walked out onto the stage; he had the confident style of a
television chat show host. The audience were clearly intimidated by his
presence and hung on his every move. Is there a Doctor in the house, he
shouted into the microphone.
Yes, answered a bearded gent, as luck would have it sat down at the
front.
Theres always fucking one, out there, shouted Norman as he pointed to
the Doctor, you ever noticed, youre at the theatre, the cinema, or on a
luxury cruise and someone shouts out is there a Doctor in the house, why the
fucking house anyway, you could be at sea for fucks sake. Anyway where
ever, theres always one. Go to a fucking hospital, I need to see a Doctor
please; you got no fucking chance. Phone your surgery, I need to see the
Doctor; you got no fucking chance. You really want to see a Doctor, book a
flight, wait till the plane is right up in the fucking air; stand up and shout is
there a Doctor in the house and in seconds youll get one, easy Doctor. Are
they all off on some quest to find the Holy Gallstone. Because theyre never
Eugene Binx
at fucking work, theyre always at the theatre or the cinema or on a fucking

luxury cruise or up in an airplane some-where. Failing that, just go along to
your local comedy venue. I rest my case.
He moved away from the microphone lit up a cigarette and addressed the
crowd again. Any passive smokers in tonight, good. Fucking freeloaders,
should buy their own. I gave up last week; its fucking easy Ive done it
loads of times. I read in the newspaper it can be very bad for your health; so
I gave up reading. If I book into a hotel you know with my girlfriend, oh,
yeah, yeah. I got a girlfriend. He pointed to a young man with his
girlfriend, you hoped I was gay, wish I was its cheaper isnt it? Oh sorry,
are you with her? You should have gone to spec-savers darling. Anyway as I
was saying in a hotel yeah, she has to have a room with a bath she tried a
shower once but her cigarette got wet. As were talking healthcare, another
thing, going to the dentist these days. Why do we stand for it? They charge
us huge amounts of fucking money give you an injection that doesnt numb
your mouth until you on your way home and tell you its your fucking fault
you got a bad tooth anyway and thats after they make you go and pay their
hygienist to clean your teeth and she tells you off an all.
Can you imagine anybody else getting away with that? You go out to buy
a new tele, hand over the money and the salesman tells you, its your
fucking fault you needed to buy a new tele if youd looked after your old
one better, you neednt have bothered him, I dont think so. Dentists Im
warning you, when the revolution comes, youre high up on the list.
Not as high up as opticians though, what the fucks that all about. Two for
the price of one, so you find the cheapest in the shop, theyre the ones
hidden in a draw that only get brought out to stop you leaving the shop.
100 and you get a second pair free. O.K. how about I just take one pair for
50. Sorry no-can-do company policy sir. But how much are these 100
glasses fucking worth. 100 sir. So if I dont take the extra pair, you save
100. You give me 100 glasses for 50 I give you 100 glasses for nothing.
So Im really giving you 150 for 100 per of glasses. So Im happy and
you can then sell on the extra pair of glasses for 50 to the next fucking
skint comedian that comes in here and then, youve sold your two pairs of
glasses for 100 and were all fucking happy. Sorry no-can do, company
policy sir. Bollocks.
O.k. I guess thats me done for tonight, thanks for listening to me
whinging, enjoy the rest of the show and if I dont see you again enjoy the
rest of your lives. Im Zen Warwickshire, thanks for your patience,
cheers. Doc jumped up on the stage, to get another round of applause for
Zen.
Back stage Betsy hugged him, You did all right Zen, and youre on the
circuit now. They sat back down and were joined by Doc he was pleased
with Normans effort, informing him that as a venue manager he was invited
with Betsy to watch the second half, from the V.I.P. area. After a quick
handshake with the Micro-wave manager, they sat on their own awaiting the
second half.
Doc got the second part of the show on with some patter, telling the crowd
he had once been sacked as a careers adviser for telling an attractive student
she was, Sitting on a gold mine, which brought some boos. He then
delved further into his fictional past to mention also being sacked as a
swimming instructor. When a teenage girl asked, Will I really sink if you
pull your finger out? The boos were now joined by some laughter and a
few slow handclaps. Doc introduced the next act.
Harry Shagman took to the stage. He looked like and sounded even more
like the J.R.Ewing character. Norman and Betsy would study all the stand-
ups now, they whispered to each other the ongoing merits or failings of
those on stage, including their own Doc.
Harry was politically incorrect on the subject of ladies. He would try and
appeal to the guys. Then using the old panto. Oh no I didnt, oh yes you did
routine, he would turn it all round and get away with sexist murder so to
speak. His unisex parking spaces in America theory brought him a standing
ovation from the males in the audience. Norman and Betsy continued to
evaluate stand-up-comedy.
Its money for old dopes, quipped Betsy, look at the state of this one.
Norman whispered, So you just observe whats going on in the world,
get up on stage dressed in your every day clothes and take the piss out of
the audience, for doing those things, even though you may well live the
same sad life as them anyway, you still send them up. They cheer you on
and you get paid and if you are really rude you may go on to have your own
T.V. series; then be really nice and admit you do all the same sad things that
most people do.
You got it Norman, agreed Betsy, You see most of these stand-ups are
just as fucking thick as the people theyre taking the piss out of. What you
need to do, is take the piss out of this lot as well and you get even more free
material. So observe Norman.
Betsy was proven right as stand-up after stand-up failed to really slaughter
the audience.
A Jeremy Clarkson look-a-like was doing well, Modern Car names I ask
you, he shouted, where do they the come from? There was a time when
they stood for something, a statement. What do we get now, a Rover, sounds
like a fucking dog. I think they would be better off just naming them after
Eugene Binx
illnesses. Why not! You could have The Ford Hepatitis range, A, B and C;
what about an Audi Tuberculosis.
Norman applauded but was more interested in the next performer Sheila
Patterson. She claimed to be related to Les Patterson. Betsy was not a fan of
Sheilas. Her routine was to get the audience to imagine famous people
having sex. Her Aussie style added much to amuse the audience as did her
signature song, Young, Gifted and Fat. Norman presumed Betsy envied her
reception.
Doc closed the show in person. Do you watch these D.I.Y. fucking
shows on the tele, he asked, standing with a saw in one hand and a hammer
in the other. What a load of fucking bollocks they are. That Grand Designs,
you see the state of those couples, oh my God. Theyre so fucking worried
about their living spaces. It always ends up the same, the only unsightly
objects to be seen anywhere are the couple themselves. Bit of advice ladies,
best thing to put behind your ears to attract a man, your ankles. Yeah think
about. Shes got it. No not now dear. Sorry about that, see yeah, good luck.
The D.J. Ed Nolmans yet another act of Docs started up his Fiasco as he
called it, with Benny Hills Ernie song. Doc joined Betsy and Norman.
This guys got so many funny ha-ha and funny peculiar records, cracks me
up, shouted Doc over the noise of Ernies milk-cart racing along. Must get
him on the books at the Two Buttocks when we re-open. Well tonight West
London, tomorrow the World. Just Brighton really, but it will be a hoot,
trust me Im a compare. Norman looked curiously, Betsy knowingly.
Didnt we mention Brighton, young Norman? Shucks sorry bout that,
said Doc, pick you up in the morning, well make a day of it. Talk to you
later, people needs paying.
Norman spent the night at Betsys. Doc came hammering on the door at
eight the next morning. He rushed into the apartment followed by his
friendly Rastafarian cab-driver, They really should feature this apartment
on that T.V. programme. Whats it called? Oh yeah I remember Bland
Designs. Norman and Betsy were then persuaded to have breakfast on the
train. Docs friendly cabbie dropped them off at Victoria Railway Station.
By 9 oclock their train to Brighton was pulling out of the station. Doc had
grabbed very strong coffees for all and baguettes filled with his
recommendations.
I dont usually eat anchovies for breakfast, complained Betsy.
It compliments the egg-mayo and toms, replied Doc, you must agree
Norman, youre a city boy. Norman smiled as he winked at Betsy, who was
busy picking the anchovies out of her baguette.
Chapter Seven - The out of Towners
So, cards on the table, said Doc, what routines are we all doing in
Brighton then?
My usual I guess my dearie, answered Betsy.
Pass, said Norman.
Doc with a head in hands gesture spoke, O.K. then Ill go first; the Spin
Doctor is going to slag off the commuters who live in Brighton. I suggest
you two follow my lead, hence why we are here at this un-godly hour of a
Sunday. Zen, Norman, think a little Zen. We are going to get a-tuned to
Brighton. So when we get up on stage tonight we are as one with our
environment and can really take the piss out of the audience. So whatever
road you go down tonight, make sure its in Brighton. This gig, right: an old
friend of mine; a retired basket ball player; Gay would you believe; a born
again; the worst sort. Anyway he has bought a pub with B&B upstairs and
we are here to give him an opening night. The local press will be propped up
at the bar, which is good for us. We get free board and as much as we can
drink. You two get sex, sea and more sex. Now look out of the window
because soon coming up, the Sussex Downs. From the train they saw a
mangled wreck of a car by the roadside, A monument to Lady Di!
exclaimed Betsy. They all went silent as the train carried them on and into
Brighton. At the station Doc was like a cross between a child and a B.B.C.
historian, dragging the others outside the station to point to where the sea
was; then he dragged them back inside to admire the Victorian architecture.
They strolled off towards the seafront. Doc now excited by the seagulls
overhead, Betsy only impressed by all the drinking holes they were passing
and Norman just pleased to be there. The nearer to the sea front they got the
louder and more animated Doc became, Now thats what I call a water
feature, they filmed, Oh what a lovely war, here you know, he shouted
and then loosing control pointing to the ground. Right fucking here, then
he burst into full song and dance. Oh, oh, oh what a lovely war, he sang
much to the embarrassment of Betsy. She went off to hide in a Victorian
promenade shelter. Norman stood and watched Doc, then applauded his
brave performance.
Bravo, bravo, Norman now shouted. As this was Brighton on a Sunday
Doc drew a small crowd. Norman had surprised Doc entering into a bit of
theatre with him.
Betsy emerged from the shelter not really wanting to miss out on an
audience. Oh, oh, oh what a lovely war, she sang. Doc joined in as
Eugene Binx
Norman mimed filming them. The three now getting strange glances from
new passers by burst into laughter and danced off. Doc pointed to a Regency
square on the opposite side of the road. He led them up through the square
and off into a narrow street to find his friends pub. Still in an excited
animated state he announced, One day Im going to put on an Opera. Yes,
in English and modern. About security guards working through the night in
a factory. I will call it And Even The Kitchen Sink. He started to sing and
gesture at his companions, What have you got in that bag. And that bag. I;
must; search; them; now. Betsy and Norman looked at each other in
disbelief of the moment
For fucks sake Doc, I think its time the men in white coats came to
collect you, responded Betsy just as they arrived at the closed door of a
pub.
Having failed to get any response there, Doc suggested a drink on the sea
front and they went off in search of one. A restaurant with tables outside
lured Betsy even in the February weather. They shared a bottle of
Champagne and Normans cigarettes. A passing family seemed outraged by
this sight, stepping into the road to distance themselves from such
decadence.
A toast, demanded Doc, Sex in trees.
Sex in trees Doc! Where did that come from? asked Betsy.
I was watching these two pigeons in a tree, from my bedroom window.
Thank you Doc, she cut him short.
At Normans request they moved on to explore the whole of the area. Doc
acted as tour guide. Betsy remained un-interested, she held onto Normans
arm. They wandered round till hunger steered them into an old style pizza
restaurant. Best stick with the Champagne, advised Doc, its good for the
figure. If I could afford it I would only drink this stuff. His request for extra
toppings to include tuna and dolphin had not gone down well with the young
waitress; so straight after their blow out, Doc guided them back to the pub.
This time it was open and Docs friend Moses a six foot tall Black American
was delighted to greet them. He showed them to a room on the first floor,
with two double bunks; they thanked Moses and dived onto separate beds.
It was totally dark when Doc stirred, he woke the other two. Having found
the light switch and blinding everyone with it, he announced, Good
morning Brighton, then confirming in fact it was six p.m. One after another
they freshened up in the bathroom along the hallway.
By six thirty they were sat round a table in the bar, with Moses. We dont
open till eight, he said, I dont serve till then, usually, but as you three
look like shit.
Cheers, responded Doc, Just a bottle of Champers and three glasses
will be fine.
Ill go and put the kettle on, said Moses, chuckling to himself as he
walked off.
With strong coffee now on the table, cigarettes were passed around. The
group were hardly visible through the haze of smoke to staff and helpers as
they turned up for the opening night. It dawned on Norman that perhaps they
were the only stand-ups that night and the coffee was a good idea after all.
Doc and Moses ran through the nights format. Doc would host the whole
event. Norman and Betsy would be introduced as main attractions on the
London comedy scene and therefore would only be expected to do short
routines.
After coffee, Norman and Betsy went out for a walk down to the seafront.
It was a clear night, the tourist lights were on. They gazed and listened to the
waves crashing. Norman phoned Doc to check what time they were needed
back. Not till ten, said Doc, but dont get too pissed my lovelies. They
wandered arm in arm the length of the sea front and back in silence. Near to
the gig they took warm shelter in a hotel bar.
This is very posh Norman, said Betsy, are you trying to impress me?
No.
Why not.
Need to impress that lot in the pub, not you, right now.
Fair point Norman.
Zen!
What!
Zen, tonight Betsy Im going to be Zen Warwickshire.
So, what are you going to do tonight Zen?
Pass.
Really.
Yeah, Ill bluff it out.
So is that Zen.
Eugene Binx
Not really, but I am. Did Doc really make it big?

Maybe.
Will you really make it big?
Lets go and find out.
They ambled back to the pub. It was so cold on the sea front they hurried
up through the square and off into the side streets. There it was, shelter, as
they opened the door the heat burnt their faces up.
The pub was packed with people generating warmth. It was another
World. It was still early, Norman led Betsy through the crowded bar. He
tapped Doc on the shoulder and shouted into his ear, Call us when you
need us, we need a power- nap. The pair continued on upstairs.
Doc gave them a shout at ten. He met them on the stairs. There is no
backstage area here, he explained, if you dont mind just being in the pub,
I will introduce you and call you up. You will be on first Norman. They
followed him down and through into the pub, which was now full to
capacity and people still arriving. Moses was behind the bar serving, he
offered them priority, which they took.
Doc stood up on a small round platform in the far corner of the bar. He
pulled the microphone from its stand, Order, order, order please, order,
order, oh come on order please. Order in this public house please, he said,
as the speaker in this public house, I must ask for, order, order please.
Thank you. Silence fell. Thank you, welcome, welcome, welcome.
Tonight is a grand re-opening of the pub known to many of you as the Hope
Tavern. However it shall, now be known forever as, The Pub, I ask you,
raise your glasses, The Pub. Onto other matters, Moses has spared every
expense tonight. We have buy two, pay for three deal at the bar, two guest
speakers from London and the grand-ma-draw.
The draw will take place at mid-night. Your invitation cards tonight once
handed in have all been placed in a large black bin-bag. Oh sorry, Moses,
whats that, oh sorry folks a large grey bin-liner. Is that cause theyre
cheaper Moses or some political correctness issue. Oh I see, they are more
environmentally friendly, grey bin-liners, oh really, glad you told me that
and of course it matches the colour of you hair. O.k. your invitations will all
be placed in a large grey bin-liner. Then at mid-night, still O.K. with mid-
night are we Moses? Good. Moses nodded from behind the bar. Doc
continued, So, midnight our two glamour girls, well when I say glamour
girls, two local students with huge tits will make the draw. They will after
handling in a sensual fashion the grey bin-liner, remove all but the bottom
one in the grey bag and that one will be our winner. Normally in a draw the
first to be drawn would be the winner, however tonight, the last out will be
our winner, therefore someone who would usually be a loser in life, will
tonight be a winner. The one and only prize is a night out with Moses
Grandma, she has just flown in from Long Island in the U.S.A. and has still
got her own teeth and if she asks, Moses isnt actually a homosexual. He just
helps out when their busy. Norman laughed loudly and applauded along
with the crowd; he admired Docs skill this night.
Lets move on then, shouted Doc over the fading laughter he had
created. On such an evening I will ask no other than Zen Warwickshire to
say a few words to you all, Zen if you would be so kind; thank you.
Norman made his way over to take the microphone off Doc they swapped
places on the rostrum.
Oh, I got a huge hard on, announced Norman, Must be the sea air. He
grabbed his crotch. I must come down here more often, Brighton, I mean.
Talking of which, its fucking February again. Having had to go into deep
debt to prove our love over Xmas and New Year, we men have to do it all
over again. Valentines Night, what a load of bollocks and you know, its
the thing that scares me most about getting old, true, cause its worse for the
oldies. Buying the card, you see them in the shop and it doesnt matter how
they play it theyre only going to get fucked at the check out. The envelope
cant be found or the price stickers fallen off and the poor old fuckers stood
there with the female assistants who must be thinking, who the fucks this
balding old fart buying this card for anyway. They treat you worse than if
youre buying porn, at least then theyre scared of you. Then its, Kylie,
how much is this tonights the night Valentines card. I dont know Cher,
asont it got a bah code. People in the shop are looking now, trying to draw a
mental picture of this poor fucker making it tonights the night for anyone. If
he is then there will be many more embarrassing moments for him before
the 14th. Feb. is over.
Then theres the present and no, a new vacuum will not do unless perhaps
it has a vibrator attachment. Probably not though as the 14th is national
erection day, no cheating gentlemen please. We are now talking, the task to
end all tasks. They didnt even have to do this in the Lord Of The Rings for
Christs sake. Oh yes its the visit to the Sexy under-wear shop. How the
fuck baldies deal with that one is beyond me. Its bad enough when youre
young. James Bond, only he could get away this. The rest of us forget it. For
most of these couples its lights off sex anyway, why throw money at it. Ill
leave you all, with one Valentines thought.
This is a true story. Im in a large newsagents shop just last year, going
through the cards. I notice this one, cause on the front it says. We all know
that diamonds are a girls best friend, but, I just have to know what the but
is. I open up the card and it says, A big stiff cock comes a very close
second. And there you have it. So dont forget chaps. Thank you thank you.
Eugene Binx
As you have been a wonderful audience tonight I will reward you by saying
enoughs enough. So its Good night from me Zen Warwickshire.
Norman handed back the microphone to Doc before going off to join
Betsy in with the crowd. Doc reminded the audience that, An Englishmans
Cock is his Castle, by way of continuing the Valentines theme. Talking
about traditions, Hunting, I said Hunting dear heart, well I would hardly
mention the other in a bar in Brighton would I? No, what is a private
members bill? Ive heard of a Private Bills member. So why the hell do you
lot in the great no-where want to hunt any way? Cant you go to the
Supermarket like the rest of us? And you got the fucking ocean down the
road. Horses and dogs can swim you know. Fox, fish, whats the big deal?
And the chance of encountering a hungry shark would liven the hunt up.
Even Vegetarians could join in. Look, if you really want to piss off T.B.
why not wait till his next party con down here. Then give it some, Oh, oh,
oh what a lovely war. Right outside; the press would love it. Youd be on
the TV. live. Probably upset the Actors Unions though. Well enough of
politics, now heres something that really should have been made illegal,
Abba-music. If any of you suffer from good musical taste, please cover your
ears.
Doc joined Norman and Betsy in the crowd, Moses was excited with the
way his evening was going and provided the three with another round of
free drinks. Doc shouted in Normans ear, Not bad mate for first up, youll
do.
Betsy slipped away back upstairs to compose herself for her turn. Doc and
Norman drank together as they were joined by a succession of locals. Moses
kept the free drinks coming, so Norman guessed there would be no wages.
Only the wages of sin for you today Zen, shouted Doc, free booze, fags
and Nancy in a bunk up stairs, what more could you want.
Just after 11 oclock, Doc sent Norman up to call Betsy as he jumped up
on the rostrum. He would introduce Betsy after he ran out of material.
Norman propped himself up at the bar to watch the master at work.
Evening all, sorry Im a bit late, a bit of a rush today, spent ages doing
my hair and forgot to put it on. I see you still got Ben Hur on at the Regal.
Heard a couple of Gays talking as they came out, of the cinema I mean. One
says, did you like the film? The other replied, loved Him, hated Hur.
Doc moved on, What the fuck do you lot find to do in Brighton
anyway? Next a comment about the tradesmens entrance and Oral B
toothbrushes into watching reality T.V. and his ideas for some new ones.
Having got a few boos with, Blind Date Rape, he nearly brought the
ceiling down with, Whos Turd Is It Anyway, Celebrity Gang Bang, Jail
Bait, Fart Wars, Hunt the Hard On and Back To The Gutter, all
delivered with some fine graphic examples that only his sick mind was
capable of. American Idol thats the pits, I keep thinking that Randy
Jackson is going to jump- up and say, Yoll I dig it dog, yeah man I mean
you gave me a big hard on.
The tele is getting bad though, worse than us lot really. Thisll be the
next thing, good evening, here is the news. Tonights news contains
swearing and scenes of extreme graphic violence, sex and sport. Mark my
words; The End Is Nigh.
Norman was concerned that Betsy would not be able to follow this; he
need not of worried Doc slowed it all down. Next he made up a story of
bringing his dog Foreskin down with him from London. Having lost his
Foreskin and wandered the streets calling it, he goes to the Brighton police
station to report his loss. The kind desk sergeant allows him to go for tea in
the police canteen, whilst there he over-hears two policemen chatting.
Are you still going out with that Mary?
No, she packed me in.
Why? You two seemed so suited.
Something I said about Catholics.
Didnt you know she was a Catholic?
Yes, but I didnt know the Pope was.
Yeah really, thats what you pay your fucking taxes for. Screamed Doc,
here we go, here we go, here we go, sang Doc in football style. When I
first discovered Betsy Norfolk she was a third rate porn star. She offered me
sex. I said, sorry Ive only got a tenner, she said thats all right Ive got
change. Now shes a third rate comedienne, please give a warm Brighton
welcome to Betsy Norfolk.
Betsy jumped up on the rostrum; she took the microphone off Doc.
I see you lot will laugh at anything, said Betsy to the crowd in mocking
tone, So I should be a big friggin great hit. Im not funny either. She rubbed
her chest with the palm of her hand. Oh thats nice Ill save that for later.
Its not true though what Doc said about me, it was a Fiver hes a friggin
cheap-skate, that Doc. Families aye, my Mothers still suffering Post Natal
Depression, cant think why! I overheard my young nephew talking to his
friend. Five they are.
I found a condom in the conservatory.
Whats a conservatory?
Eugene Binx
Friggin schools, she shouted, of course children should be taught about

conservatories. Teachers they are a strange race. An ethnic minority group
for sure. All part-time, bags of friggin dosh and they still dress badly, buy
weird cars and download porn in their spare time, of which they have loads.
They retire early and carry on supply teaching earn even more dosh and still
dress badly buy mobility cars and eventually get caught, downloading porn.
I love porn films. Wish they just showed them on general release. It makes
sense, lets really legalise fucking sex, pardon the pun. Cinemas these days
are just for fucking kids, not literally of course.
You see all these adults filing into watch Harry Potter, why? It is so sad.
Todays man spends his days off pretending to enjoy retail parks with the
wife. Then its Harry Potter with the kids. He would prefer, the morning in
bed, a porno film in the afternoon, a few beers and blowjob off the baby
sitter. So he gets frustrated and the years roll by and he gets angry. You
know that angry, that you want to go out and murder a prostitute. But its
not your fault, its Ikea, Harry Potter and the baby sitter for wearing a mini
skirt and then theres that film American Beauty that got you thinking in the
first place that there really should be more to life. Then the kids wake you
up, cause youre embarrassing them snoring and it was just a bad dream and
youre sitting there in the friggin cinema filled with children watching Harry
Potter and J.K. Rowling is the richest women in the world has got some
more of your money and every one lives happily ever after. Give me,
loneliness any day.
I like sex though; I just think its overpriced. I generally wait for the sales.
I was brought up in the countryside, you can tell from my rather cute accent.
Some men find it a turn on, especially when I shout out, Oh master give me
a good seeing to, just like you did that sheep last night. Used to make me
very horny the countryside. Never mind village bicycle, they used to call me
the village tandem; yes darling you got it did you, so did I, good an proper.
Even walking home from school, Id pass a field where the horses were at it,
what a sight that is. Id be gagging for it by the time I got indoors.
Fortunately I was the only girl in the family. We were a poor and yet
miserable family; I used to have to stuff my brothers socks down inside my
bra for the local dances, they used to smell a bit though, still thats country
life. You know whats long, thin, covered in skin, red in parts and goes in
tarts; rhubarb.
Doc and Norman were mortified, Betsy had topped the pair of them and it
was serious stuff. She continued, Well my throats a bit horse, no pun
intended. So I guess its time to remind you all if youre drunk, do drive its
a lot easier than walking, well, cause youre sitting down, its obvious aint
it. If you run down a bus queue, they only take away your license. Best not
to take a test in the first place, then they cant even do that. The Law is an
ass and then some. Good night good people of Brighton may your Pier burn
brightly for ever.
Doc was overwhelmed by the applause for Betsy as he took the
microphone off her to close up the show. Betsy was only joking folks about
the drinking and driving, you get fined as well, he quipped.
We have had a great night here. When I first walked in tonight and saw all
the anoraks hanging up, I thought oh fuck, those National Trust jokes will
have to go. So I will leave you with this one question, where was Moses
when the lights went out? In the fucking dark of course. Good luck Moses,
youll need it with these thick bastards. Good night Brighton.
Moses laughed and led the applause as Doc squeezed himself Betsy and
Norman on the rostrum to lead the singing of Land Of Hope And Glory.
Moses knew he had had himself one good opening night.
The three hid upstairs to allow Moses to clear the bar within his licensed
time. They returned for a late drink with the staff, local press and a few
invited. The press were seeing Doc Betsy and Norman as a team. Doc found
this an interesting concept and it started him thinking about their future; he
set off in need of the toilet and sneaked off to spend the night at a 5 star
Hotel as his payment for providing the nights entertainment.
Moses was on a mission and kept the drinks flowing. He announced that
the table now covered in dirty glasses, over-flowing ashtrays and awash with
spilt drinks and fag-ash, could be an entry for the Turner Prize. One of the
local press photographed it. Betsy then suggested he go with her and
Norman to the seafront and do a photo-shoot. All very pissed, they set off.
The local police passed them by as they fooled around; only the flashing
camera saved their arrest. The cold forced them to retreat to back to The
Pub. Betsy and Norman left the others now playing drinking games as they
crept off to their room for the few hours left of the night, far too drunk to
attempt sex, or notice that Doc was missing; they slept in separate bunks.
It was mid-day, it was Monday, and it was hangovers all round. Doc had
climbed up a drainpipe to wake Betsy and Norman. There was no other way
in to The Pub. Moses was still in a coma. Norman heard Doc at the window
and let him in. God its like the walking fucking dead round here, Said
Doc, come on we need to get back to Town. Remind me to show you two,
The Days of Wine and Roses, sometime. Now Norman fuck some life into
Betsy, Im going downstairs to get the coffee on the go. See you soon.
Norman slowly woke up Betsy, got them both washed and downstairs
before the coffee was cold. The three demolished two pots in silence, left a
scribble goodbye note for Moses then secured the bar door behind them as
they headed off in the general direction of London, via Brighton Railway
Eugene Binx
Station. After even more and stronger coffee on the platform they slumped
into their train seats and back to sleep.
Doc announced, There are only two places in England you know, in
London and out of London. He was in better condition than the others so he
only closed his eyes and remained busy making plans. The others started to
regain consciousness as the train jerked to a halt at Victoria. Doc assisted
them onto the platform and into the nearest coffee shop, then into a black
cab. His plan was, they go to Betsys and from there he would go on home
in a mini-cab. However having paid off their taxi, Betsy suggested they all
eat at her local Italian. Doc remembered his last meal there had been rather a
farce, but he was hungry.
The three ordered a modest amount of food, a hair of the dog and soon
had the giggles as they topped up their alcohol levels. Doc tapped their table
with his knuckles, A toast, he proposed, the 2nd of February, the Two
Buttocks and us. The colour was now returning to the faces of Betsy and
Norman. Doc told them that Brighton had been very special for him. He
thought if they worked together as a team and with a little more Zen, success
was there for the taking. Ill drink to that, said Betsy.
Me too, added Norman. After a rather sober late lunch the three agreed,
rest was the priority. Doc settled the bill and gave the waiter a tip, Ugly
women are best cause theyre grateful for it. He then ordered a minicab and
left his close friends. Betsy suggested to Norman a walk along the riverside
followed by some sleep at her place. Darkness fell over the Thames as they
strolled the long way back to Betsys apartment. The central heating
welcomed them. Betsy turned to Norman as he closed the door, I really
want you to move in here with me Zen Warwickshire, she announced
nervously.
Norman bowed his head as he took her in his arms and answered, I do.
They showered together and then slept together.
Next morning with February upon him Doc changed up a gear, knocking
at Betsys door first-thing. He was the boss, which suited the other two,
O.K. lets get going, he shouted as Norman answered the door.
Who is it Norman enquired Betsy from under her duvet?
Its the Fucking Police, with a Fucking Ticket.
Piss off, she replied.
Whats with you two, Doc butted in.
Just a private joke dear, Betsy was now red-faced.
We got a venue to get re-open on Valentines Day, or did we forget? And

you two are now officially working with me for Spin Doctor Comedy
Consultants, as well as your duties for Paddy. On hearing the news of
Norman moving in with Betsy, Doc replied, Itll at least give you both
some ideas for new material, great. But Betsy its not quite what I meant by
a little more Zen.
They headed off by bus to the Two Buttocks. Doc reminding them to keep
the exs down now. They put in a long hard first day back at work. Norman
left the others at 5 oclock to meet his Aunt Katie from work. She was
pleased to see him they walked home together as he explained he was off to
stay with Betsy, Ernest greeted them at the door, he was off work
sick. Baby thats what he is Norman, joked Katie. Norman broke his news
to Ernest over a cup of tea. The three of them were still close but all agreed
ontrolled him. He was a bitter man nest pretended to help Norman down the
Ernest pretended to help Norman down the narrow staircase with his
suitcase. They all agreed to meet up for a drink at the Prince before the week
was out.
The sight of Norman, pulling his huge suitcase on wheels through the
doors of the Two Buttocks was too funny for Doc, Fucking hell Norman,
he screamed. I thought you were a comedian, not a magician. We could be
onto something new here, he laughed, how you going to get that over to
Betsys? I dont think it will fit in a taxi.
Rise above it Zen, Shouted Betsy from a distance. I like a man with big
luggage. They all laughed. Doc was noticing the real comedy magic that
was developing between them and needed to harness it. He had declared the
week should be, Sober-ish. They worked through till 10 oclock allowing
themselves only one drink. Doc had ordered a black cab for the three of
them and the suitcase. He got out at the tube station.
Well here we are, said Betsy, Joking apart; I do admire you having all
your gear in one suit case Norman even if it is not the biggest, she started
to laugh, Suitcase I have ever seen. No really, people take more stuff than
that on holiday, so Ive heard.
I am on holiday, he replied.
Well its not a free one matey, Ill have that fuck tonight that I would
have had this morning, if Doc hadnt wet his bed and disturbed us.
Shall I unpack then?
Sure, Ill put pizzas in the oven.
Norman unpacked, they showered, ate, watched tele on the big screen and
Betsy got her fuck.
Eugene Binx
Doc woke them by phone the next morning and from then on he was
considerate and allowed them their privacy. For the rest of the week they all
met up at the venue. Doc was involved in all sorts and their days were busy.
They worked till late on the Saturday. Norman took Betsy along for a drink
with Ernest and Katie at the Prince. Doc declined the, Its a Family Affair,
as he referred to it. The drink went well, leaving Norman feeling good about
life.
The following week, was even busier, auditions added to the workload.
Valentines night would fall on the Saturday. Doc had not named the stand-
ups for the big night. The press deadline for adverts was Wednesday 9am.
Betsy would E-mail the details through. She and Norman sat beside the
computer in the venue office. Just minutes before nine Doc wandered in, he
sat down.
Please take down the following Miss. Norfolk, he said. Headlining,
probably the funniest woman in the East End at the moment, Betsy (shall I
get my tits out) Norfolk. Introducing, a bloke from the Midlands, Zen
Warwickshire. With full supporting cast and of course all this and more
under the strict supervision of The Spin Doctor. Betsy typed the E-mail,
This P.C. has Windows Extinguisher soft-ware Doc its fucking chronic;
right thats sent now so I hope it wasnt a wind up dear. She and Norman
awaited an explanation.
Wind up, why? asked Doc, Ive been giving this a lot of thought since
Brighton and it feels right.
Seems like a good idea to me, added Norman.
O.K. all agreed then, so lets just get on with it, suggested Doc getting
up and heading off to purchase their take away breakfast rolls. Norman and
Betsy somewhat stunned shared a cigarette, their attempt to cut down. Doc
soon returned with the food. He had no interest in further discussions right
then; so another hard day got going followed by another and another and
then it was Valentines Day. Doc had dropped into their conversations
throughout the week that he expected his two partners to produce their
goods on the night.
They saw nothing of Paddy before the re-opening. His wife was now
clinging onto life, he trusted Norman. The Two Buttocks was ready for
Valentines night, by mid-day. The three locked up and went off to their
homes to prepare themselves. Doc said he would walk for a couple of hours
on Hampstead Heath, then take tea in the village to relax.
Betsy and Norman were soon lazing in their now shared apartment. They
had about six hours before they would return to work. Betsy went off to
shower and do her hair. Norman sunk further into an easy chair. After some
time referring to Nigels book he meditated for a couple of hours till Betsy
returned to disturb him. Pizza darling, she asked. He nodded, and then
returned to his deep thoughts. Betsy prepared all for their meal of the day,
just calling Norman when it was ready. He jumped up, Im ready for this
and for that he shouted, slapping his face in his hands. He hugged and
danced Betsy round the room. Pulled out the chair, seated her at the table
and poured them wine.
We just up it, from Brighton really, said Norman, we were all good
enough there.
That easy then!
Yep, why not. Doc is right, we work well together, that could set us
above the rest and we are in charge of a fucking comedy venue. If we cant
crack it, then who can?
Yeah Ill drink to that. The press will be in tonight, lets do it right.
If we believe in ourselves and each other we will do it right, concluded
Norman.
After eating they left the table in a total mess and went to bed. Betsy
fucked Norman then fell into a deep sleep. He remained in a deep thought
mode only interrupted by moments of total blankness. Having disturbed
Betsy before heading off to the shower he found on his return, she was now
rushing round on a domestic mission. I cant come home to this mess
later, she said in an apologetic tone.
I could, its easy, he mumbled.
The apartment bell rang at 6 oclock, Taxi, said the voice on the
intercom.
Lets go do it, said Norman taking the nervous Betsy by the hand. It was
he who had to lock the door of the apartment behind them.
Doc was stood outside the Two Buttocks when the taxi drew up. Heres
the old married couple then, he shouted, been digging the garden have
we? The three embraced. Norman unlocked the pub the others followed
him inside. Over the next couple of hours staff drifted in, including Lottery
Lenny moaning how skint he was. Before the doors were opened customers
could be heard meeting up outside the venue.
Doc had booked D.J. Ed Nolmans Fiasco. However the public were let
into the music of Dr. Hook, the only romantic music Doc could stand. It was
Norman in fact that the crowd swarmed over. Few of them realised he was
in fact now Zen Warwickshire they shook his hand as they wished him a
Eugene Binx
belated happy new year. He was still best known as Norman the doorman
the friendly giant with no hidden agenda or so they had thought.
The Two Buttocks was packed within an hour of opening. Lottery Lenny
was turning people away and trying to convince them to visit the Prince;
You should try their Cats Piss, he was heard suggesting to all those he had
to disappoint.
Chapter Eight - Valentines Day Fiasco
At 10 oclock Doc jumped upon the new stage, Hello good evening and
welcome, he mumbled, its time to rumble, well not quite. Tonight apart
from being the grand re-opening of the Two Buttocks, it is of course,
Valentines Night. On a very sad note, we will remember Nancy. Known to
many of you as our manager, she was tragically killed on Boxing Day and
tonight here is dedicated to her memory. She lived life to the full, so tonight
will we. Thank you. The crowd applauded.
Thank you, I checked the stats, you know very few babies are conceived
on Valentines Day. I dont know what we should read into that, but as a
stand-up comedian I better read something pretty fucking quickly into it. Oh
yeah, perhaps its the cold, reducing the speed of the flow of body fluids, its
a thought. Bit too technical for you lot I guess. Any Doctors in? Yep theres
one, no two, what three! Hospital closed tonight is it?
Maybe its the planning of it, all the ladies remembering to take their pill.
Tonights the big one. Every one armed with their condoms, tooled up you
could say. Ive got one, no youre all right I got one here. Oh do try one of
mine. Do you think only the oldies go for it anyway, out of conceive by
dates? Talking of which, any of you old dogs here pregnant now? Oh theres
always one, or two! Yeah, good. How you like your eggs in the morning
girls, fertilized?
I find it lets say interesting. Society never seems to fully make the
connection between getting pregnant and getting laid, you know the sex
word is taboo.
Recently I was visiting my parents. My sister turns up with husband. They
sit on the sofa. She announces the patter of little feat are on the way. My
father gets out the sherry and Mum provides a few tears. It is a moment of
pure innocent happiness, or is it? Cause what my sister is really saying is,
hes been fucking me. Can you imagine what reaction that sentence would
have got, you could forget the fucking sherry anyway. We would have got
the tears I guess though. So following the good news Im sitting there
thinking wicked thoughts, I cant help it. Cause those little innocent
questions pop up at these times, like, was it planned? How long have you
been trying. This is polite sexual innuendo. Was it planned, what does that
mean? Did you lie down dear with your legs open? No it wasnt planned,
just seemed like a good idea at the time. There wasnt much on the telly. Or
yes weve been trying for ages; we have been fucking each other silly every
night for a year. Well no, we didnt have to try for long, it was all over in a
few minutes.
Eugene Binx
Then we have to drink a toast to the baby, why not sex, well thats what it
is really, but we as a family have never mentioned sex, now we are toasting
it. I ask you.
So you two ladies out there, we know what youve been doing, Making
the Beast with Two Backs, perhaps. Enjoy tonight and enjoy making
babies, later mate, core look hes all over that one, bet shes not your wife.
Go and buy her another drink mate, yes the bars over there and mingle,
mingle, thats better and relax dear its just a commercial.
Doc walked backwards off the stage. The D.J. played Im An Urban
Spaceman, the crowd were now well humoured and the bar was busy.
Doc gathered up Betsy and Norman and ushered them through to the back
office. We got some serious press critics in tonight, he said, dont get
nervous, play to them and give it everything. Let the audience play its part
too. Milk them. Lets get out of here Im thirsty.
Back in the bar, the three relaxed as they watched the crowd enjoying the
evening. Soma, for the masses, quipped Doc, this comment was lost on the
other two. Doc knew there were several generation gaps between the three,
but that should help them. Between swigs of his lager he jumped up on the
stage and introduced his old fashioned juggling act. He loved stuff like that,
so did this audience. He returned to Normans side to boost his confidence,
he was up next and Doc needed him to be faultless.
The night was going like a train. Betsy had creped off to the office. She
knew that pacing her drink was essential. Doc was an old hand at the booze
and Norman the gentle giant could hold his too. Midnight soon came round.
The D.J. not Doc introduced Norman. The theme 2001 A Space Odyssey
blasted out; Doc pushed Norman towards the stage as the extreme volume of
the music vibrated the customers drinks on the new bar tables. Norman
stood on the stage; the music stopped dead; smoke had been released; it
covered his legs. A single white spot-light circled him; there was silence
followed by a mixed response, a few murmured, Thats Norman the
doorman.
Grasshopper, whispered Norman, we must not always presume that all
things stay the same, for if we do, they will. Now fuck off you little
brat. The crowd liked Zen straight off and showed it.
I know its Valentines Night but, lets have a good moan anyway. I
dont know why they call us stand up comedians, we should be called stand
up moaners really. Its all we do, professional fucking moaners. My Dad
back in the Midlands, well adopted Dad really, but I dont want to talk about
it. The pain, the shame, all right in a minute. Any way he used to say my
Mother, thats my adopted Mother, but I dont want to talk about it. The
crowed begged to hear the story. All right in a minute, can I get on with
this, my adopted Dad, oh fuck I forgot what I was going say then. Moaning,
I do like a good old moan.
Council Tax, why do they call it Council Tax, most of it goes to the
fucking Police. They should call it fucking protection money, bit
controversial? he asked the audience. Celebrity chefs, who thought that
one up? Celebrity chefs I guess. Most trades have celebrities on the tele now
you know. Not the ones I would like to see though. Titty Gardener, Jordan!
Celebrity gynaecologist, Peter Stringfellow! Just a thought. Celebrity
postman, theres a good one; mind you there was Postman Pat. Celebrity
hospital porter, no, we had Jimmy Saville. I guess theyve all been done any
way.
I hate sport on the tele. If I wanted to see sport I would go out and see it
live. Cricket youd need a panoramic screen to watch that on the fucking
tele. Rugby last year, you all latched onto that one. We all became rugby
fans then for a couple of hours, well it wasnt that hard was it, propping
yourself up in front of a big screen with a beer and a fag, just a normal night
out, except England won of course and we didnt have to support them year
in and year out, we just had to turn out once at the local pub and revel in the
glory, fucking handsome, boys, thanks. That reminds me, my Dad used to
say my Mother could have moaned for England, new it was something to do
with sport.
It is all right being adopted, well you did ask. At least you dont have to
feel guilty about not liking your parents, any of the fuckers and it gives you
an excuse for having a chip on your shoulder, or a French fry I guess it
would be these days. If things dont work out financially, you can always
claim you were abused, better than your lottery odds that old chestnut.
Friend of mines a solicitor reckons we aint seen nothing yet, bbbbabee, yeah
really, she was over in the States, managed to drag herself away from my
weapon of mass satisfaction for a while, I might add, well it is Valentines
night and who said romance is dead. Shut up youre putting me off again.
Anyway she told me, the day would come when you can sue for everything,
anything at all.
Breach of marital contract, not getting a good shagging when you need
one, or even when you dont. Can you imagine, you go off to bed, your
partner suggests sex, oh, and you say Im a bit too tired really, working very
hard on that overseas deal. So its snore, snore. Next morning off you go to
work, couple of hours later some fucker walks up to your desk and slaps a
writ in your hand. Now if youd of slapped something in her hand last night,
would have saved you loads of fucking money.
At work you can sue the bollocks off your bosses, its great. Power to the
people aye, at last and you dont even need to join one of those fucking
Eugene Binx
Unions, right brothers. Girls, you just let your tits hang out eat a banana
slowly for lunch, tongue it, suck it, then swallow, right in front of your boss.
The moment he makes his move bang, you got the bastard. Should pay for
your first house. I think workers rights are going to far though. Stress is the
real Big Issue now and Im not talking about that fucking magazine that
seems to rise up at you on the end of this filthy hand as youre walking
down the street; sorry about that. Anyway stress, workers go to work to
work, all work is fucking stressful, stress is now an illness, so soon, no-one
has to work anymore, Ill drink to that. How about working for al-Qaeda,
now that would be stressful. I shouldnt think theyd be Investors in People
some-how.
Well enough of this gay banter, oh sorry I meant happy chatter, no
solicitors in tonight I trust. No, good, fuck-em, when I was going out with
my solicitor, I used to fuck her, till it even hurt me! Come on who wouldnt
like to fuck a solicitor? just like they fuck us every chance they get. Any
Irish in? Lovely people, really. You know why they called their currency the
Punt? Silence fell, Because it rhymes with Bank Manager.
Scottish people, any, yep always one or two they get everywhere those
Scottish boat people. I once asked a Scottish musician friend of mine what
he thought about Rod Stewart. Well Zen he said, when you listen to Rod
Stewart it reminds you of Al Green, but when you listen to Al Green it
doesnt fucking remind you of Rod. Stewart. Boom Boom. Sorry Rod but
that is a true story. Publicans, theyre an odd race, my mates Dad was one,
when he retired he bought a boat, called it cirrhosis of the river. Medical
joke there, for the locals. Norman was struggling with his performance.
Suddenly as if by fait he looked out over the audience, as if for
inspiration. He saw Paddy, just standing there looking lost too, out of place
and in a state of panic. Lottery Lenny had his hand on Paddys shoulder and
his eyes fixed on Norman. He did manage to signal to Norman that there
was a problem. Norman ripped off his jacket like he was a pop star and
threw it to the crowd. Thank you, thank you, England, youve been a great
audience, God bless you, I love you all, look me up when youre next in the
States, he screamed.
Doc was horrified as he watched Norman leap off the stage. He had not
yet noticed Paddys presence. The stage lights had gone off allowing
Norman to move quickly and un-noticed over to Paddy. Lenny greeted him
whispering into his ear: His wife has just died; hes come straight here,
shes dead in the flat. No one else knows yet, fuck! What are we going to do
Norman? Paddy looked up, he needed help. Doc could only watch from the
other side of the pub as Norman led him outside.
We should go to your flat and call the Doctor now, said Norman in a
gentle tone. Paddy led the way it was just a short walk, he was focused now.
Soon they entered the flat on the third floor; the view of the floodlit
McNaughtons Brewery from the lounge window took Norman by surprise.
He stood gazing at his first place of work in London. His mind was spilling
over with all that had happened since he knocked on Ernest and Katies
front door in the summer. He realised Paddy needed him. This was the first
time in his life Norman had taken on any responsibility. An open door
revealed a bed, he entered the room were laid Maureen; she was dead.
Norman froze only just managing to turn his gaze back at Paddy. After a
couple of minutes
his senses returned, The number, for the Doctor, Paddy I need it now,
he said without emotion.
Its by the phone, replied Paddy, now seated in the next room beside the
phone. A couple more minutes passed before Norman was able to get his
legs to walk him back into the lounge. The phone number was written on a
cigarette pack; it was the Doctors mobile.
The Doctor is on his way Paddy, Norman mumbled now in a state of
shock. Fortunately the pair had not closed the front door; this allowed the
Doctor to enter through to find Norman and Paddy seated in a cigarette
smoke filled room and then Maureens dead body. Seeing the vague look on
Paddys face, the Doctor addressed Norman, Marty Crown, Doctor and old
friend, you are?
Norman Smith, he answered, I manage the pub for Paddy.
Yes, he has talked of you, I of course know your Uncle and Auntie very
well and I am their Doctor also. Do they know about Maureen?
No, replied Norman.
I will tell them, my boy. There is a plan for tonight. The undertaker will
be here any minute, another friend. He will look after Maureen; Paddy will
stay at our house till some time after the funeral. Here is my card, you will
be contacted very soon, go now this is no place for a young man and thank
you. Norman could see Paddy had shut himself off from reality, so he just
touched both of his shoulders on the way out of the flat.
Back out on the streets of East London Norman lit up a cigarette. Still
without his jacket he walked back to the Two Buttocks on autopilot.
Entering the front doors he bumped into Lenny. Are you alright? asked the
doorman. Youre as white as a fucking sheet man.
Please dont ask me if I have just seen a ghost you fucking brain donor,
or youll be wearing that exit sign. Wheres my jacket? Its below freezing
outside.
Eugene Binx
Yeah, sorry I wasnt thinking big man, how was it? What happened?
Sorry, Ill find your jacket.
And get me: a large; double southern comfort; no fucking ice; now; in
fact several in a pint glass.
Lenny shot off towards the bar; Norman leaned on the back wall. After
all he was the boss and entitled to be a prick sometimes, thought Lenny as
he ordered up his drink.
Betsy was on stage. The audience were having a great time. Doc noticed
Norman and waded over through the sea of bodies and booze towards him.
He saw tears swelling in his friends eyes and hugged him. Betsy saw this as
she was being begged for an encore, realising Norman needed her, she did it
at last, If I get my tits out can I go?
Yes, the crowd bellowed. She did it, pulling up her top and turning 360
degrees before leaping off the stage. In the darkened venue she raced over to
Norman; taking his shaking body from Doc she walked him outside, hailed a
passing taxi and pushed him in. They cuddled as he wept on the short
journey to her apartment.
Hes not going to be any trouble is he? asked the driver.
Not for you, replied Betsy.
The cab stopped.
Here we are then darling, good luck, said the cabbie with a genuine
tone. Betsy threw a ten pound note at him. She led Norman through the
gates into the courtyard and home. The apartment was heated up like a
sauna, for once this pleased Betsy. Norman had been shaking with coldness.
To her delight he spoke, I need to wash. He pushed her aside heading for
the shower room. Betsy relaxed in the lounge. She was surprised at the new
Norman that rushed into join her after his quick shower. He was smiling,
looking good and soon sat down opposite her with a glass of red wine. She
lit him a cigarette and passed it over. Thats very kind of you, considerate,
he said. I will need to pop back to work in a minute.
No you wont, Doc has wound up the show by now and I had put most
of the money in the safe, just before I went on stage. Well, I am your
assistant. Doc and Lenny will lock up. You want to talk?
How was Valentines Night?
It went very well, must checkout the reviews.
I dont know why the fuck I went off to Paddys.
Seemed like a good idea at the time dear!
Norman laughed, Not really.

I guess if Nancy was, oh sorry I shouldnt have.
Normans laughter grew, Lets stop being so fucking morbid, he
insisted. Then standing up he ballet danced round the room, collecting the
red wine bottle before he returned to his seat. Betsy was now confused. She
wanted him to talk and thinking the wine might help loosen him up she
opened another bottle. Lets have a session, she suggested.
He nodded, then toasted, Stiff ones.
Stiff ones, every time, added Betsy. They drank, relaxed and listened to
music. After a while Norman just started to talk, Tonight has been surreal
all of it, including now even. Will the rest of my life be like this? he asked.
Before Betsy had the chance to answer that shed hope so, the doorbell
sounded. She rushed over to the intercom, it was Doc. Now there were three
of them Betsy felt the pressure off, she would let Doc debate the meaning of
life with Norman; she went off for a long shower.
Doc took up her seat and glass of wine, I hung your jacket in the
hallway.
Thanks Doc, Norman passed over a packet of cigarettes.
Doc continued, Maureen could have picked a better night to die on, Id
bet Paddy at least hadnt wasted money on a card. Valentines Night, our big
opening could have been ruined. She saved the night for you though, Zen
was rubbish. While she was dying in bed, you were dying on stage. Betsys
tits are bigger than I thought theyd be though. Both men roared with
laughter.
Mermaid, shouted Doc, fish and tits. Their laughter echoed through to
Betsy in the shower room. Fucking blokes, she scoffed. Then feeling she
was missing out hurried her shower to re-join them.
So what will become of the Two Buttocks, now Paddy has gone
doolally, she asked on her grand entrance. Like the kimono? I bought it in
Norwich. This was just too much for Doc and Norman they now hooted
with laughter. Fuck off you pigs, yelled Betsy, before collapsing into the
hysterics.
Norman, come on, whats what with Paddy now, pray tell dear boy?
asked Doc.
I need to talk to his Doctor. Hes staying there for a while; Ill phone him
in a few days.
Stop worrying you two, said Betsy. Its Saturday night, or it was. And
always look on the bright side, we sure got lots of money to play with.
Eugene Binx
Paddy has been getting rich just sitting on his ass, possession is nine tenths
of the law, lets just go with flow, cheers. She raised her glass, the others
were less optimistic, however they joined her bizarre toast, The Queen is
dead, long live the Queen.
I wont ask you what that means, Im too drunk, said Doc but youre
right, we must carry on. Got a show later today in fact. Ill grab a cab now.
Betsy saw him out. Norman had fallen asleep; she left him in the armchair
as she would enjoy the entire bed to herself.
First up in the morning was Norman; he made a pot of coffee, a plate of
toast and joined Betsy in bed. Another day another Euro, she said,
thanks, I need this to get going, I fucking hate Sundays. What was Bob
Geldof going on about in that awful song? Nothing wrong with Mondays,
Pratt!
I think it was based on a true story, added Norman.
Whatever.
Weve lots of work to do at the pub today Betsy.
Im off today.
Oh! O.K.
I might cycle by, later.
Im glad, we are not on stage tonight.
Yeah let some other fuckers, have ago at insulting the World and his
Wife.
I can be nice to the customers, like I used to be.
Think Ill give that one a miss Norman dear, I fancy a nice quite night in
on my own.
So youll have my dinner waiting when I get home from work?
Not as such, but I will have your wine and cigarettes in front of the
radiator.
Sounds good. And sex!
Depends on what I watch on the tele, if it leaves me horny, youre on.
Sunday night, is a bit tame, so Ill take that as a no then.
Off you go to work dear.
Norman leaped out of bed. He amused Betsy nearly falling over several
times as he struggled into his trousers. Sit down you silly sod, why do men
dress like? she asked.
Cause real men do it standing up, replied Norman.
The Two Buttocks was a bit of a mess. Paddy had a thing about not
employing cleaners, he also had a thing about child allowance, and Norman
planned to include both of these philosophies on stage one night. With the
cleaning all under control, he decided to pop around to see Ernest and Katie
at the Prince. They were so pleased to see him that it brought tears to their
eyes.
Ernest ordered Norman a drink and muttered, Thanks for looking after
Paddy last night. Norman took the drink sitting down beside Katie giving
her a hug. Norman learned that Maureen had not been a popular woman;
Paddy however had worshiped her. He had an accountant named Mr. Patel
and Katie assured Norman he would soon come round and take charge of
business affairs at the pub. The Doctor felt Paddy was not compos mentis at
this time and had contacted Paddys solicitor, Norman listened with great
interest. Ernest and Katie didnt know of the great plans Norman, Betsy and
Doc had made for themselves. Norman just nodded his acceptance of the
situation.
You can always get your old job back, at the brewery, suggested Katie,
you were popular there and Lenny would see you all right. Norman
nodded again, this time in appreciation as he excused himself to get back to
work.
Betsy was busy chaining her bike to a lamp-post as Norman returned to
the Two Buttocks.
So, this is what you call hard work is it, she taunted him.
Working class perk, dinner breaks.
Lunch actually dear and remember work is a four letter word.
I know and manual labour is a Mexican bandit. Come on, I saved you
some four letter words.
The two got on with setting up the pub for the evening opening. They
wound each other up as they speeded through their superficial cleaning task.
Betsy was a good singer and drowned out the tape playing. Norman left her
to it, going off to talk business on the telephone with Doc.
Early afternoon, work completed they locked up the pub. Betsy continued
on her cycle expedition. Norman set off to walk back to the apartment. He
Eugene Binx
was not expecting to be greeted at the front door by Doc, Hope you dont
mind old boy.
Not at all, replied Norman, Betsy has gone off cycling, come in.
Do you think its sexual, Norman?
What?
Her cycling like that.
Hope so, anything else would be perverted.
Quite, Id swap places with that saddle of hers though, sorry, you were
saying?
Red wine Doc?
Just a litre please.
Anyway, what brings you here, I thought I was just talking to you on the
phone or did I just imagine that!
Ah, the million lire question, thought youd never ask. I am a trifle
concerned about the Paddy factor, only we kind of skated around that one
earlier.
I had a drink with Ernest and Katy this lunchtime.
And how are those lovable cockney characters?
Sarcasm, eh!
Put me out of my misery Norman please.
It seems that Paddy will need time to get going again. His accountant Mr.
Patel will contact me soon, very soon. Now you know as much as me.
Mr. Patel! Oh no! I feel a fucking song coming on. Its the blues, woke
up this morning our comedy venue had all gone, turned into a corner shop,
mercy, mercy Lord what did I do wrong.
These things happen Doc.
Oh thats alright then. Not to me they fucking dont. I think we had better
all turn up at the funeral, yeah thats it and well get a huge turn out from the
stand-ups. Its like he needs to let us keep the Two Buttocks open in his
Mrs. Memory, O.K. badly worded perhaps, but we cant take this standing
up.
Norman was bemused. His mobile rang. Yes Norman speaking, Mr.
Patel, what can I do for you? Monday at the pub mid-day sure, yes I can
make that, Doc! Yes of course, O.K. bye.
Well you sure told him Norm.
Sooner we get sorted the better, I thought you wanted to know your
fate!
Yep, I did, but not sure if I do now.
Well Monday we will, now drink up and Ill stick some pizzas in the
oven.
Betsy returned as Norman was finding his way round the kitchen area.
Who do I have to fuck round here to get a drink, she asked in her full
Norfolk accent.
The old ones are the best, responded Doc.
Pizza dear? added Norman.
I would have preferred some food, for just once, but go on then.
Would you both please stop trying to upstage me, just relax, pleaded
Doc as he put a C.D. on and danced out onto the balcony, forbidding the
Thames to come any nearer. Stay wayth from my wharf, he screamed and
waved his arms. Neighbours curtains twitched as he tossed his wine at the
river. Ill freeze you for ever, oh mighty Father Thames.
Pizzas ready Doc, called Norman, go and wash your hands before you
come to the table.
Betsy had set the table, the three sat down for their late lunch. There was
no talk of business, Doc and Norman keeping quiet about their Monday
meeting with Mr. Patel. Talk was of the nights stand-ups. You will miss
some good turns Betsy, if you stay home, said Doc.
And some bad ones, she responded, so who you got Doc.
Rasta Man, for starters.
Rasta Man! exclaimed Norman.
Yes thats his stage name.
Stage name!
Look, the guys been driving me round since last year, pleaded Doc,
why! Because he wants to be a stand up and I have been coaching him,
now as his Sole Agent and of course Manager.
Eugene Binx
Betsy interrupted, You must of course get him a gig or the free taxi rides
might stop.
No no no no no, wrong, now I have got him ready for his debut, insisted
Doc banging his fist on the dining table, I will present him to the World.
He is mine I created him, all mine, mine you see. O.K. hes all right, Ive
seen a lot fucking worse.
Thats slave labour you know, added Betsy, I thought it had been
abolished, well in England anyway. But this is worse, you get this guy to
drive you round all year, then as his reward he gets to go on stage for 5 mins
so people can laugh at him and thats if hes lucky.
But has slavery been abolished? asked Doc, What about call centres,
the fucking computer tells them when they can get a piss, then it says bye-
bye Im off to India, the job centres that way Pratt.
Well thank you for sharing your extremely narrow perspective of the
World with us Doc but its time for the lady to retire. Betsy headed off to
lie down on the king-size. The men continued eating, drinking and chatting
in lowered voices; she fell asleep. The apartment living area was large
enough for Betsy to be uninterrupted whilst the men relaxed with fresh red
wine endless cigarettes and Van Morrison. Within the hour they slept.
Betsy was the first to awake, she opened all the windows. Up you get
boys, time for work, fuck off, she shrilled, speeding round the apartment,
look at this mess, she cleared away ashtrays and wine goblets from the
floor beside their armchairs.
Totally disturbed now the two set about making coffee; Doc having to
take charge of this challenge. We can smarten up at the pub later, he
insisted, Norman agreed and minutes later they were walking off to the cab
office.
Outside of the Two Buttocks some of the bar staff were waiting for
Norman to unlock Sorry were late, called out Norman.
We, shouted Doc, hes the Boss; hey Rasta good to see you on time,
tonights the night, nice, got your Lynx on? And that must be a suit from the
George Collection surely.
They filed in to the pub. Rasta stood up on the stage, Can I have a
practice Doc? he asked.
Youve been practicing for a year man.
Yeah but that was just in my cab.
Carry on, Rasta Man, tonight East London, tomorrow Montego Bay.
The hustle of the opening preparation drowned out Rasta Mans rehearsal
which just consisted of him pacing up and down mumbling. Doc had to talk
him off the stage as the doors opened. Norman still found it hard to believe
that Docs mini cab driver would soon be let loose on a Two Buttocks
audience.
The crowds poured in, the staff had to change up a gear. Lenny was
panicking on the door dealing with the numbers. Norman cornered Doc, I
do hope you can make them laugh tonight Doc, he said, There are a lot of
them to keep happy.
Just the usual lynch mob Norman, if the going gets tough you and I will
just pull it out the hat.
Im not on tonight, replied Norman.
Never Say Never, Zen. Ill put Rasta on first; then the only way is up. If
its looking too bad just do a happy hour, get them pissed, put on some
music, theyll forget why their here anyway. As long as we all have a good
time, just live for tonight Zen. Dont loose your amateur status and lets
have some fun, Lets go get stoned.
The doors had to be closed within an hour of opening, the crowd, mainly
staff from the local hospital were out for a good night; with a birthday, stag
night and a leaving party to celebrate Doc felt they would be easy. He
played to his audience as he declared the start of the show. Dressed as a
hospital Doctor he asked for a nurse from the crowd to come upon stage to
hold his stethoscope, with no takers he asked, O.K. then can I get a nurse
up here to take my temperature, no, youd be quite safe Im not really a
pervert, I could have been had I not been born such a great Comedian of
course. Any hospital porters in, no, thank Beckham for that, spooky
possums, theyre like the walking dead, you dont believe me, read,
Spawn, sorry Patrick. See we got some parties in tonight, wheres the
birthday person, glad I said person and wheres the stag, oh ha ha ha dont
make me laugh, can anybody get married these days? Once you had to at
least look the fucking part. Beckham theres still hope for me.
Whos leaving, oh its that fucking Pratt, so what did you get sacked for?
Necrophilia! Did the earth move? Dont know why I said that really. Any
way enough of this gay banter, please give a Two Buttocks welcome, not
literally of course, we have now live on stage one of North Londons finest
mini cab drivers, its Rasta Man.
Onto the stage ambled Rasta man to the amazement of all, especially Doc
and Norman; he was wearing the most colourful shirt and shorts, the pub
had sunshine in February. Even more of concern to Doc was the fact that
Rasta had a small electric guitar slung round his neck. It was a strange
Eugene Binx
looking home-made instrument, with built in amplifier and speaker. He

stepped up to the microphone.
For my first song I will sing, Get up Stand Up thank you. He hit the
guitar and sang. At first there was a shocked silent response, this soon
changed as the crowd turned into a live music audience and they were
loving it. Rasta Man wasnt bad; Doc changed the lighting to suit. Norman
shook his head in disbelief; Doc was getting away with it yet again. Rasta
followed on with Stir It Up announced in an apologetic manner. The Bob
Marley songs had set an atmosphere that would now be difficult for the
others to follow. Doc realised this he needed a plan of action and quick. As
Rasta was still basking in the applause for his second offering Doc joined
him on stage.
Thank you thank you, he shouted. Now I know how Brian Epstein
felt, not literately of course. O.K. heres the deal, Rasta Man will be back
much later to close the show with more great reggae hits for you. He
ushered Rasta off the stage and back into the changing room. D.J.Ed
Nolmans as instructed by Doc played some Beatles hits; this tempo change
kept the crowd happy enough and would ease the way for the next act. Back
stage Doc was about to have some serious words with his new act.
I hope you know some more good songs Rasta, or were fucked later,
shouted Doc.
Well mun, those were ma best.
O.K. you just stay here, Ill get one of the girls to bring you some
Jamaican rum. You got two hours to practice. We got a Bob Marley tape
somewhere, thatll help and Ill teach you a funny one see you later. Doc
returned to oversee the show. Norman wanted answers. Think Zen, be in
tune with things Norman, screamed Doc over the roars of the crowd. Yes
Rasta Man has conned me, or has he!
Doc and Norman took a breather and a drink as a few auditions followed
each other onto the stage. Bungalow Bill had just arrived; he was the top of
the bill. The three men were enjoying a good drink and a laugh at one of the
new faces on stage. Doc had installed a laughter effect into the sound
system; the guy wasnt at all funny, but the canned laughter made the
audience laugh, this confused everyone especially the stand-up.
Betsy arrived. Interrupting your boys night out am I? she asked, her
eyes fixed on Norman.
You want a drink dear, he answered. She joined them happily.
Just in time to witness another of my great performances Betsy, shouted
Bill.
Another! she shouted back, how was Rasta Man? I see he didnt empty
the place.
Doc gloated, He went down so fucking well, hes coming back to close
the show.
Bill looked surprised, shrugged his shoulders, I still want the same
money Doc, he insisted.
No probs Bill, when has the Doc ever ripped you off. With that said it
was time for the clumsy Aussie to get ready for his turn on stage.
After a couple more drinks with Norman and Betsy, the Doc felt his phone
vibrate, the text told him Bill was ready to go mad. Doc took to the stage,
screaming at the crowd, I never wanted to be a compare, I really wanted to
be a fat Australian comedian, talking of which, here is one I made earlier,
its that time already folks, heres Bungalow top of the bill Bill.
You whinging fucking poms, do you ever fucking stop whinging and
wining? Back home we say theres nothing worse than a Brit.tourist except
more than one of course. So what is it now; whats fucking wrong today?
Oh did it rain ah, heard of umbrellas; staying in; the Rain Forest. You got it
made over here and you still fucking whinge. I love England myself; its the
women, shag like rattlers. But you guys really miss out, you dont do the old
business like you should, its not hard, well it should be, just lie the sheilas
down and give em a good seeing to or better still table end em when you
get home from work. Take out the days frustrations by throwing the old
one-eyed trouser snake into the nearest watering hole you can find.
Norman and Betsy had heard it all before, Bill carried on insulting the
English in great style. The pair cuddled a bit, which was unusual in public,
Betsy quizzed Norman over Rasta Man. Youll see him for yourself soon,
he whispered in her ear.
Watering hole indeed, she said, That Bill is a fucking pig.
Yes, but a fucking funny pig, replied Norman. Bill stayed on stage
longer than usual, as if somewhat challenged by Rasta closing the show.
Eventually he ran out of material and following his rowdy departure off
stage after a rendition of a Long and Whinging Road, Bill joined Norman
and Betsy at the bar. Well, I wanted a good view of Rasta Man, he
explained. So whats with this guy then? Norman ordered over some more
drinks, but said nothing, mainly because he was a bit speechless on that
subject still.
The D.J. was playing as instructed by the Doc a selection of drab music
with the treble turned down to assist Rasta to sound O.K. at worst.
Eugene Binx
Ladies, Gentleman and Betsy, announced Doc, here to sing his latest
composition co-written with yours truly of course, youve waited long
enough, its the man who put the casual into labour Rasta Man.
The crowd responded with warm applause, Rasta sang,
Whenever Im sad, whenever Im blue,
Whenever my troubles are heavy
Beneath the stars, I play my guitar, just like Tony.
Blair la la lal lala, la la la lala la
The crowd joined in, Blair la la la lala la la la lala la,
Played in the Reggae style, the crowd went berserk. More, more, more,
they started to chant. Rasta eased into Satisfy My Soul, then finished his
set with a very long, Jamming, another Bob Marley classic. Doc jumped
up as it ended encouraging the applause to even greater heights. He
screamed, Good night, see you next weekend and dont forget, if you cant
be with the one you fuck, fuck the one youre with, Beckham bless you.
The stage lights were faded as the D.J. rebelled by playing the Sid Vicious
version of My Way. The crowd even found this a funny as they started to
spill out onto the pavement.
The pub lights came up to allow the staff to clean the tables. Norman took
charge of the close up as Doc was catching a free lift home with Rasta. He
shouted across the bar to Norman, Keep an open mind and a watchful eye
Zen, see you back here mid-day. Now Rasta heres an idea, Get on down
like a text machine perhaps not, lets go.
Betsy helped with the lock up, she and Norman hurried back to the
apartment after yet another memorable night.
Chapter Nine - Enter Mr. Patel Centre Stage
Its 11.30 shit I dont believe it, shouted Norman. Help, help Betsy, I
cant be late; some coffee please, just use the water from the hot tap. She
presented him with his caffeine as he headed towards the door. Taking just a
large swig, he kissed her goodbye and thanks. Oh I get a wifes kiss now
do I? she complained. He ran down the street to the cab office, only to be
told hed have to wait. At least now he could allow himself time for a
cigarette. The cab arrived in two cigarettes. It was just after mid-day as he
got out of the cab. Doc was stood outside the venue reading a paperback.
Hes not here yet! Great, said Norman interrupting Doc in his reading.
Nope, its freezing man, lets get inside.
Norman unlocked the front door noticing the security bolt was already off
and the alarm de-activated and the bar cleaning lights were on. Sitting at the
largest table now covered in paperwork was, Mr. Patel enquired Norman.
Yes, that is me, replied the well dressed and distinguished looking Mr.
Patel. I hope you do not mind me letting myself in? I was early, these are
Paddys keys. You must be Norman and Doc.
Yes thats us, replied Doc.
I am very pleased to be meeting with you both, we have much to
discuss.
The three men sat together looked an unlikely group to be talking
business. Norman not quite himself yet offered coffee. Doc and Mr Patel
ordered tea and then made polite conversation as Norman went off to the bar
kitchen. On his return he looked more alive, having drank one cup already.
The three all smoked, the scene now looked like a card school Doc noticed
and then thought perhaps it was. The short nervous silence was soon broken.
Mr. Patel opened the meeting, Please call me Patel all my friends do.
Patelallmyfriendsdo! called out Doc.
Norman frowned and shook his head.
Mr. Patel laughed, Now I know why Paddy refers to you as that fucking
comedian. Very good I must remember that one. Down to business, Paddy is
to go into a private nursing home on the recommendation of his Doctor. You
met him Norman, a good friend to Paddy and the late Maureen of course. It
is a very nice place, not cheap though. He will need time to, lets say get
going again, hes still only in mid-life 50 something, just like me. We feel:
Eugene Binx
that is his Doctor; Solicitor and I, that in the short to medium term things
could carry on here as in the recent past. However we cant say anything of
the long term right now. We have to see how Paddy progresses, then there is
the Brewery to consider, they own the pub and Paddy of course is only the
Tennant. In my capacity as accountant to Paddy and Maureen I have been
made aware of course of your arrangements with Paddy and see no need to
make changes. Please gentlemen tell me how you feel, be honest, I know
you must have some concerns.
Questions, more like, answered Norman now fully awake. So I would
deal direct with you, instead of Paddy.
Correct.
Will I get to talk to Paddy first?
No, that is not possible, Im sorry to say. On the authority of his Doctor,
his Solicitor has granted Power of Attorney of this business to me.
Fair enough, but I would like to visit Paddy as a friend as soon as
possible.
You will see him at the Funeral Service this Wednesday but not to talk
business. You and I Norman are in charge of the pub and of course Doc we
hope will continue to provide the entertainment.
Sounds fair to me, added Doc, so we all just carry on more or less the
same.
Well nearly, just some fine tuning, I will go through with young Norman
here. So we will not detain you any longer Doc, pleasure to meet you. I must
pop in here one evening see if you can make me laugh, perhaps at the end of
one of my bad days in the office.
Doc with a shocked look got up, shook hands with Mr. Patel, nodded to
Norman and headed out through the front door; he made a point of not
slamming it behind him.
Well Norman, perhaps as it is now past mid-day you would poor me a
large gin and tonic and whatever you would like. Norman jumped up,
showing his lack of skills behind the bar.
So young Norman, if you would please provide me with the weekends
figures and of course the takings, we can balance up. Norman went through
to the office, returning with two cloth moneybags and a sheet of paper with
till roll readings stapled on.
This is it then!
Mr. Patel studied the till readings, the scribbled notes on the door takings,
then pulled out the bundles of bank notes, I dont understand, you took all
this in just two nights!
Yes, we were pretty busy.
Pretty busy, is an understatement Norman, I would say. We may have a
problem here. I was under the impression from Paddy that this place was
taking considerably less than this. Have a look at these figures Norman from
last year. Tell me honestly what you think. Norman studied the neatly
entered figures in the accounts book.
They seem much lower than we took, are they the gross figures.
Yes all gross these ones. Norman shook his head.
Pub Landlords, exclaimed Mr. Patel, a special breed, this puts you and
I in a very difficult position young Norman. I will not mix my words; our
good friend Paddy has been cooking the books. We are now to be torn
between doing the right thing or the very right thing. I need time to think,
Ill put all this into my safe for now and Ill take you to my restaurant for
lunch. We will talk further as we eat, that might stop me getting ulcers over
this business if nothing else.
Norman put the alarm on as the two men left the pub. Mr.Patel pointed to
his Mercedes car parked on a double yellow line, watched over by his huge
chauffeur. They cruised the couple of streets on the way to the Indian
Restaurant. On their arrival the car doors were opened for them and they
were escorted into a large busy restaurant. Their table overlooked the entire
ground floor packed out with diners; many seemed to be aware Mr. Patel
was there as he used sign language to order food and drink. Their table was
soon overflowing; Mr. Patel looked thoughtful before addressing
Norman, Forgive me young man, I am rude, I am not being a good host,
cheers and good appetite. The two men drank wine and ate from a truly
tempting selection of dishes. Well, we should have the best, young
Norman, after all I do own the fucking place, there you see I can do stand-up
comedy. He laughed loudly.
I used to live near here, remarked Norman.
Yes I know, with Ernest and Katie, she is an attractive women your
Auntie. Still, business Norman, oh dear what a fucking mess. Still needs
must and we indeed must protect Paddy at all cost. You must assure me
though, that what I am about to tell you along with what you already know
will remain our secret, well apart from Paddy of course. I will come in next
weekend and watch you guys at work, see if it gives me any ideas as to the
best way forward. Next Monday I will meet again with just you, then I will
decide. Lets eat, young Norman, I must have a proper lunch most important
Eugene Binx
meal of the day for me that is. The two men feasted. When their table had
been re-set for coffee and cognac they both lit up cigarettes.
Do you have a girlfriend Norman, enquired Mr. Patel.
Yes, I guess I have.
Is she pretty, Norman?
Yes, very.
Good, you should leave ugly women for ugly men, or else it causes an
in-balance.
I had not thought of it that way,
There is a reason for most things Norman.
Including, Paddies book keeping?
Of course, Paddy yes, that reminds me the Funeral Service. Maureen is
to be cremated, very fitting considering she was a chain smoker. You will
need to hang black drapes over the Two Buttocks signs. A few relatives will
go there after. I will lay on the catering, just a small gathering. My secretary
will E-mail you with the details. Norman nodded his understanding of the
situation as his phone rang just once; he switched it off.
Such good manners Norman, exclaimed Mr. Patel, your parents must
be very proud of you. I must not detain you any longer. Perhaps it was your
very pretty girlfriend that phoned, good-bye young man. A taxi for Norman
at once please. Mr.Patel only had to raise his hand for the Manager to
respond, he escorted Norman to the door and into the waiting minicab. Just
minutes later as the cab crossed over Tower Bridge, Norman caught sight of
Betsy leaving their local newsagents; he stopped the cab to join her for the
short walk to her apartment. The driver would not accept payment, Its on
Mr. Patel, he explained.
Betsy was surprised to see Norman get out of the large black BMW.
Joined the Mafia Norman, she joked.
If I answer that Ill have to kill you.
Or fuck me,
Or fuck you.
Better tell me quick then.
Well, lets just say Don Patel has made me an offer I cant refuse.
I get fucked for that!
Thats life.
Betsy noticed the cab driver had not pulled away yet, Quick Norman
lets ask him to take us to a gallery first. She grabbed him by the hand
dragging him back to the car.
Please take us to the Tate Gallery, not the new one, she asked the driver.
Sure Madam.
Ill pay,
No need Madam, Mr.Patel owns this cab company, Ill be paid.
Norman and Betsy settled into their luxurious surrounds as the car eased
away. Norman you never talk about your Art College days; what did you
do there?
I studied the art of Stand-up Comedy.
Very droll Norman, anyway you dropped out, are you a drifter
Norman? I guess Ill find out.
It seemed liked the spring weather had come early as they arrived at the
Tate. They both thanked their driver before climbing the stone steps to the
gallery doors. They paused for a last cigarette in the sunshine before
entering, this reminded Norman of Maureens Funeral.
We have to work Wednesday lunchtime at the pub, he blurted out in a
nervous tone.
So whats new?
Ah, its Maureens Funeral.
Oh, dead at the Two Buttocks, I see.
Youre sick; Mr.Patel is expecting a few of her relatives to go there after
the crematorium.
Crematorium! it gets worse, will you buy me a sexy black outfit and fuck
me in it after?
Yes, but not till we get home.
Count me in for Wednesday then, should be fun. Now lets go and get
horny.
Once inside the gallery she led the way, as a frequent visitor Betsy new
what she liked.
Ill get Katie a fridge magnet, he said loudly enough to embarrass her.
Eugene Binx
Yes Norman and while youre at it, why not get Ernest a fucking Tate
comb case!
Good idea, thanks. He wandered off in the direction of the gift shop
leaving Betsy to study some Turner paintings at length. An hour later she
found him still browsing the shop. Come on little boy, Ill buy you an ice-
cream. They found an empty table in the caf, Betsy sent Norman off to
make their purchase. He returned with two massive ice-cream deserts.
So what did you buy in the gift shop?
Here take a look.
Lots of post cards, a comb and a case and you did get Katie a fridge
magnet. Whats this book? Turner!
Its for you; I can change it for another if you have this one already. It
seemed the best one on Turner to me.
Oh Norman thank you, its just perfect, but a hardback, so expensive.
I know, but you did say I could fuck you later, so I thought, damn the
expense.
Better not keep you waiting too long then had I.
After these ice-creams, please show me your favourite Turner paintings,
tell me why you love to look at them and then lets get the fuck out of here,
O.K.
You got yourself a deal, you smooth talking bastard.
Betsy showed off her special collection, he was very attentive as she
explained her feelings. She clutched the present to her chest and seemed to
be walking on air as they made their way home. She led the way to a bus
stop after they had walked across Vauxhall Bridge. The Thames looks like
a great masters oil painting in this light, just look at it Norman. He nodded
and glanced at his watch, it was nearly 5 oclock. On the South side they ran
to catch their bus. The traffic was heavy and with half their journey
completed Betsy suggested it would quicker to walk. She showed Norman
how to cut through to Dock head and the apartment.
Once home, they showered together. Norman finished first and prepared
large gin and tonics. Betsy joined him, opening the balcony doors ready to
clear their cigarette smoke. The tide was high and visible through all the
windows. Look its just like being at sea Norman.
I guess so, not that Ive been to sea yet, but who knows.
Now how about an early night Norman, fuck that is of course. She
walked over to the bedside, let her silk robe drop to the floor and then
slowly slipped in under the duvet. Norman accepted her invitation without
consideration. They enjoyed their sex to the sound of the Thames filling the
wharf. The outside lights shone in through the windows as the pair provided
free adult entertainment for their neighbours across the water.
With their long awaited sex over, it was time for more gin and tonics.
Betsy closed the balcony doors; still naked she now pulled down the
window blinds. They shared a cigarette, Its better for the environment,
said Betsy, Im hungry now. She re-joined Norman in bed.
Ah slight case of out of sink, he replied. I had an enormous lunch,
Indian actually, hence the gin and tonics now.
This was with Mr. Patel!
In his restaurant, after our meeting at the pub.
Well you have had a long hard day Boss, I guess we should stay in
tonight, Ill ring for some Chinese to be delivered. You may want some
later. She made the call.
They both dozed, the door buzzer rang. Norman went to pay for the food.
Betsy soon started picking what she fancied straight out of the cartons, with
her bedside chopsticks. She then sat at the small round iron table in front of
the balcony doors. Her silk robe was open, revealing her long slim shapely
legs. Norman viewed her; he knew there would be more sex that night.
Betsy had put Lord of the Rings on the big-screen. This is a pirate, got it
from Doc today. I must be the last person in England to see this, she
exclaimed with her mouth full of Chinese take-away.
Joint last actually, replied Norman. You saw Doc today?
Yeah he stopped by, after he left you and Mr. Patel at the pub.
Was he alright?
Thoughtful, well its with the Paddy factor being unknown, Docs lets
say nervous.
And you Betsy.
Im just pleased, Doc remembered this movie, Ive been asking him for
ages, look at these special effects Norman, its much more exciting than
stand-up comedy. Norman shook his head then stared at the screen. They
watched the film through, fumbling round from time to time in the dark to
locate their cigarettes or pour fresh drinks.
Eugene Binx
By the end of the film they were both ready for another romp in the king-
size followed by child-like sleep. They were woken early next morning by a
phone call from Doc wanting to know what time the office as he called it
would be opened. Norman and Betsy agreed to meet him there at 10 oclock.
It was business as usual for the three at the Two Buttocks on arrival.
Norman left Doc and Betsy to manage the entertainment side, he had to now
to get to grips with the beer cellar. Having worked in his college bar, he
fancied the challenge but not so much the work. He also had to order stock
from the brewery, there was an old faded order sheet pinned up in the cellar,
good old Paddy he thought Ill just repeat the previous week to the tele-sales
girl at the brewery. Wheres Paddy? Having a day off is he? she enquired
laughing.
Yeah Im his barman Norman, cheers love. Norman was not intending
to let the brewery know of Paddies present state of mind.
Hey Zen, shouted Doc down the cellar stairs. You got an E-mail from
our friend Patelallmyfriendsdo. Come and have a coffee in the office, youll
need it.
Norman presumed he was the last of them to read it. Doc was obviously
awaiting an explanation. Its just the Funeral arrangements for tomorrow,
announced Norman.
Oh thats alright then, only I thought it was a sketch hed written for us,
replied Doc.
Might as well be really, muttered Betsy, almost to herself.
I cant see a part for me, thank goodness. added Doc.
What ever happened to the, We must all turn up at Maureens Funeral,
speech, Doc? asked Betsy. He looked up at the ceiling.
Yes, good one Betsy, added Norman, well write you a nice big part
Doc, maybe the lead.
O.K. Im not greedy, just a walk on part for me thanks, he replied.
For starters then, asked Norman please get some of your crew to cover
up all the Two Buttocks signs and apart from us just get all the staff here on
time please. We cant trust any of the stand-ups to behave at a Funeral with
free booze on tap.
The three of them got busy on, The Funeral Gig, as Doc insisted on
calling it. Betsy was planning flowers for the tables. Doc offered to bring in
his Leonard Cohen tape and Norman went out to get the sherry from
ASDA. After this short burst of good intention, they walked round to the
local cafe. Pleased to find a vacant table by the window, they studied the
grease-stained menu.
Now I know how goldfish feel, complained Betsy.
Wet and slimy, aye, said Norman just as the elderly waitress arrived to
clean off the mess left on the table by the last economy diners. Can I have
a salad Ms? enquired Doc.
Ill need to ask the boss A Fred Flintstone double nodded his acceptance
of the challenge. Oh super, shouted Doc. Ill ave a chicken salad and
chips then lovey.
You tosser Doc, added Betsy with the agreement of the waitress.
What was it Robbie Coltrane said in that advert, Doc answered his own
question, were all wankers now. He smiled in satisfaction at having the
last word.
Norman wasted no time in attacking his food on arrival noted Betsy and
Doc who were now busy debating T.V. sit.-coms. The Royal Family is a bit
like Till Death Do Us Part, added Doc, without the humour of course. He
laughed at this.
Well I, think its fucking brilliant.
You only think that because a Woman helped to write it dear, now do
continue with your lunch and dont upset yourself with such matters.
Betsy shook her head at Norman as she started her meal.
Whos doing what after lunch, asked Doc. Only Im picking up my
kids from school today.
Guess we could come up that way with you, suggested Betsy. Norman
is going to buy me a cute little black outfit for tomorrow. There are some
decent shops in Hampstead.
This is going to cost you Norm, but sure join us. Ill treat you both to a
milkshake.
After lunch they finished up their work at the pub, and then squeezed into
Betsys car for the journey up to North London. She dropped Doc off near
the school, Id give the shop lifting a miss dear; C.C.T.V. everywhere in
Hampstead you know, he shouted after the car, They used to say the
World was a stage, now its a fucking film-set. Only Norman waved back.
They parked outside Docs apartment and walked onto the shops. Betsy had
a great time teasing Norman over her choice of black sexy funeral wear,
complete with black stilettos, stockings, gloves and a veil. She insisted
Norman bought just a black leather coat and new designer underwear as he
Eugene Binx
still had his black doormens suit. He had never spent so much money on
clothes before and remained silent for their walk back down the hill.
They found Doc and his daughters still in the ice-cream parlour. Betsy had
hoped she would have missed them. Their table was a disaster area. Norman
became a huge success with the girls ordering them even more ice cream
and helping them to eat it. With his face also now covered in several colours
of ice cream he sang to the girls, Flush the Magic Toilet. He was next in
demand giving them piggyback rides as the group went for a walk on the
Heath. As Doc had not organised a ball for some child-like activities,
Norman took off a huge woollen sock, rolled it up and threw it at the girls in
turn. They would run off screaming in delight as Norman shouted, The
smelly sock is coming to get you.
The group looked an odd one even for North London, Betsy was
struggling with all her high street shopping bags, Norman and the girls with
ice cream on their faces. Suddenly a dog grabbed the sock and ran off back
to its surprised owner.
Doc, perhaps you could get Norman some gigs as a brat entertainer,
suggested Betsy.
Well perhaps I should, it pays better than stand-up, especially in
Hampstead, he replied.
They all made their way back to Docs flat. Norman waved goodbye to
the girls as he returned to the, Safety of the car, as Betsy called it, they
behave just like kids. She proclaimed as they drove away at high speed.
Norman pushed himself back into his seat pretending to experience G-Force;
Betsy laughed. Soon she was pulling up at their local Italian restaurant.
Fuck it, said Betsy, Im parking here tonight, lets get pissed fed and
fucked in that order, cause I aint looking forward to tomorrow, so I need an
anaesthetic.
Three of them! enquired Norman.
Well thats the advantage of going private.
They dived into their early dinners. With both looking forward to the sex,
they did not converse. The waiter brought their bill only to find an empty
table covered in money, but he was happy enough as Norman and Betsy
rushed off hand in hand back to the flat.
The front door slammed behind them indicating the start of a very private
event. The apartment although in the thick of Londons life was silent. The
warehouse walls and water soundproofed them. Betsy hated this silence, she
grabbed a remote control which produced loud music. She danced into the
main living space opening the balcony doors on her way to collapsing on the
bed. Norman had gone for a shower, when he returned she was asleep. He
poured himself a beer, noticing how early it was he switched onto the news
channel. The news was so boring he grabbed a post-it-note, scribbled two
words for Betsy and ventured out for a walk. As he neared Tower Bridge
passing a pub, the pavement chalkboard read Tonight Sit-down Comedy
with Mickey Finn. Through the pub window Norman noticed Mickey sat up
at the bar so he joined him. High Norman, what can I get you?
I cant get you one back.
So what, I owe you a good few drinks mate. But dont order a gin and
tonic, theyve run out of clitoris fruit, sorry about that one mate. The
barmaid smiled, Praps, not said Mickey.
Cheers, only Ive come out without any money, just for a walk, saw you
and here I am.
Not much of a walk, wheres Betsy, you aint done er in ave you?
Shes sleeping; pissed.
Oh thats alright, mind, if she dies of choking on her own vomit, youll
be a suspect.
Mickey dont be so fucking morbid, or is this Sit-down Comedy!
Oh that, Docs idea, he booked me in here. So shes alright then.
You want to phone her just to make sure Mickey?
No need, it will be in the papers if you ave done er in.
If your old Gran could see you now, Mickey.
Hey, thats my line Norman. Im not on here you know, its upstairs.
Youll come up?
No sorry, early night tonight, Funeral tomorrow.
You did kill her then.
Not yet, see you soon Mickey, thanks for the beer.
If you need an alibi.
Ill call you.
Shes tasty though Norman, skinny, a bit like fucking a xylophone I
should imagine, no offence meant of course.
None taken Mickey; see you soon mate.
Eugene Binx
Yeah, I enjoyed our little chat, given me an idea for my routine tonight,
cheers.
Norman ambled back to the apartment, hiring a video on route. Betsy was
still asleep on his return. He threw away the note and poured himself a large
glass of wine. Betsy awoke and joined him. She seemed to have lost interest
in sex that evening, Norman would not remind her. They settled down to
watch the hired video, I didnt know you liked cartoons Norman.
Its a bit more than a cartoon, really, or so Doc says.
They both watched the movie before in silence going for that early night.
Bring out your dead, bring out your dead, shouted Doc through their
letterbox early the next morning.
Betsy rushed to let him in. Shut up you clown, I do have neighbours you
know.
Clown aye, I like that. He picked up the hire video, Finding Nemo, did
you enjoy it?
All that water, made me keep going to the toilet.
Weak bladder Betsy! Well you are getting on a bit, how old are you?
Fuck off Doc.
Perhaps Ill discuss the films artistic merits with Norman later, Doc
decided.
Norman on hearing his name mentioned stirred, Be with you shortly
guys, he yawned.
Betsy threw an odd selection of food on the table. Ahha, said Doc,
continental breakfast, Idal
pour de vieilles dames.
Fuck off Dock, excuse my French, shouted Betsy. Norman looked
confused.
The three ate in silence, then leaving the table in a mess and the room full
of smoke they made their way in Betsys car to the Two Buttocks for 9
oclock. A couple of Docs willing and generally unpaid assistants were
already busy hanging black drapes over the venue signs in a manner that
suggested this was a very low budget job. Norman shook his head as he
entered the pub. The telephone was ringing, Betsy answered it. Oh I see,
O.K. Ill tell Norman, thank you Mr. Patel, Betsy thats right Betsy, bye.
That was Mr. Patel.
Yeah I think we gathered that, whats happening, asked Doc.
Well, replied Betsy, some of Maureens family arrived last night,
popped round here for a remembrance drink only to be greeted by Two
Buttocks, literally of course, need I say more. Mr. Patel is to save the day, of
course. The knees-up will now be at the Prince of Wales.
Ill fucking drink to that, shouted Doc.
Seconded, added Norman.
Motion passed therefore, concluded Betsy.
Going, going, fucking gone, they all said in unison, led by Doc before
he ran outside to call off the work party. Good job I wasnt paying them,
he said on his return.
So its business as usual, Betsy concluded, Ill put the coffee on.
Still, just the small matter of the Funeral of course, Norman reminded
the others.
Eugene Binx
Chapter Ten - Three Comedians and another Funeral, but

the Show must go on.
Eleven thirty, Betsy pinned a note on the door of the Two Buttocks to
inform the staff of the change of venue. The three-sum set off towards the
crematorium. They soon arrived to join the other mourners filing in at the
back; they watched the show.
This is spooky, whispered Betsy. Can we smoke?
Just like going to the dentist, remarked Doc, it will be over soon. It
was and they joined the others for the silent walk onto the Prince of Wales.
What a fucking gig, whispered Doc, theres comedy material here, its
free, so tuck in.
Charles was doing a great job hosting Maureens send-off. Ernest and
Katie arrived with some others from the brewery in search of the free booze.
When the Two Buttocks staff arrived to earn their double pay offered by
Doc, there was standing room only. Mr.Patel entered last, with his wife and
close family. The women in his group were beautiful in full Indian dress
adding something desperately needed at this event, Classy man aye, Doc
spoke in awe Norman just look at these fucking horny women.
Id liked to die in the bath with all of them, replied Norman.
And me, insisted Doc.
No not you Doc, just the women, replied Norman.
Betsy re-joined the two, interrupting their fantasies, Indian sausage rolls,
boys, she offered, they laughed. It was Mr. Patel who led the tributes to
Maureen, his by far the most eloquent; he excused Paddys absence on
medical grounds.
Medical grounds, muttered Betsy to Doc, Maureen turned up and shes
dead.
Pleased to leave the mess and the profits for Charles to put away, the Two
Buttocks crowd retreated to their World. They totalled twelve Doc noticed
and he made a Biblical reference. Patrick took up position behind the bar,
Sherry anyone, he offered.
Dont open that, shouted Norman, Im gono take that back to the
shop.
Tell em she rose again, in the oven, so to speak suggested Doc.
Youre sick, replied Patrick, so who wants what and whos paying?
Mines a large fruit juice and Im paying, said Norman as he tossed
some money on the bar. It was a quiet gathering, a first Funeral for most.
After some clock watching, the staff started to drift off.
Fuck man, moaned Norman, they were getting double time, dog, I
dont get it. Just Patrick and B.A. stayed on for the afternoon session with,
Doc, Norman and Betsy.
So thats it then, summed up Doc, lifes a bitch then you die. Lets get
really drunk, blind drunk. Fuck thats a terrible expression, reminds me of
drunks in the park with meths and cider. I wrote to one of the big cider
companies once, I was pissed off and suggested they use drunks in the park
to advertise their cider. Never got a reply.
I am surprised Doc, responded Betsy, dont give up your day job.
Boys and girls, lighten up, you English need to chill, lets just have a
nice drink, suggested Patrick, deaths a great leveller, its the only thing
that makes life fair, everyone has to die.
Here, here, said Norman, adding a large Southern Comfort to his fruit
juice as Betsy put a Laurel and Hardy video on the big screen.
Not much of a choice though in death, is there, Doc asked the question.
Just two options, burnt or buried. In these times of great consumer choice,
could be a market for offering new alternatives. I do think stuffing, like they
do with animals, birds, even fish could be popular and then mounted on the
wall. Hey Betsy that would suit you, from what Norman tells me. That
would be like life after death for you girl. He roared with laughter, causing
all but Betsy to join him.
Bollocks, she replied.
Doc resumed, At sea, should be made available for all those that can
afford it and not just for the Navy. How about in space, the executive option,
thats pretty close to heaven. Recycling!
You already got the donors option Doc, answered Betsy in a hostile
manner.
True, but, not a great take up rate. If it was re-marketed, you know re-
branded even as recycling. The greens would all endorse it and it would be a
free service of course, like glass, newspapers, shoes etc.
So would we have body banks? I guess its no more bizarre than sperm
banks, added B.A.
Eugene Binx
Very good, want a job, come up and see me sometime young lady,
suggested Doc.
You know, replied B.A. After a bombing in my home town a fireman
shouts out, hes found the head of the bomber. How do you know hes
asked; still got his fingers in his ears, came the reply. An embarrassing
silence was broken by Doc, A toast; lunchtime drinking. They all raised
their glasses; Betsy drew the curtains as the daylight was hitting the screen.
The old film kept them well entertained; as soon as it finished Patrick and
B.A. went off for some fresh air. Doc decided to leave with them, Betsy
having locked the door turned to face Norman.
Ive locked the door: drawn the curtains; you own my clothes;
whats next?
Norman stood up, Not here, youve only had one drink, drive me to your
apartment now.
Sure if thats what you want. Their dress attracted passing glances as
they left the pub, looking like theyd been out all night and then some. It
was late afternoon as Norman pulled Betsy by the hand into the apartment.
Her new funeral outfit was stunning in a sexual form and Norman was in no
hurry to undress her. He walked on into the living area and poured them
drinks, he lit himself a cigarette then sat at the dining table. She joined him
now wearing her hat and veil, sharing his cigarette as she dropped her
shoulder straps to reveal her breasts. She then dipped her fingers into his red
wine and onto her nipples. Norman still wanted to be entertained and sat
back watching her. She pulled her chair back from the table; her legs were
now wide apart showing her stocking tops as she stroked her thighs. Norman
breathed deeply as he noticed she was not wearing knickers, Betsy swigged
her wine and lit her own cigarette with her other hand.
In your own time, ordered Norman, on the bed Betsy. She finished
her cigarette, topped up her wine then carried it over to the bed. There she
lay in wait for her next order. Norman dimmed the lights, removed his
jacket and unzipped his trousers before fucking her, face up, then face down.
After their sensational climaxes, Norman walked off to the shower leaving
Betsy sobbing in her mixed mental state of satisfaction and a sense of
having been abused. She joined Norman and in silence they showered; then
returned to the bed. This time they got under the duvet, they slept, her head
on his chest, they were as one breathing life. An open window provided the
perfect background sound. The day had exhausted the pair and they slept
uninterrupted till daylight.
Thursday they were on autopilot, reality not kicking in till darkness fell.
Thursday night was to be the first of Docs latest brainstorms. He and Betsy
had worked long and hard on planning this format. The evening would start
with the audience getting up to do Comedy karaoke. Doc used this to save
paying out for stand-ups, Let the silly fuckers laugh at themselves and pay
us for the privilege, he had said. Beckham bless those punters. Next
would be a sketch, Doc and some of his crew including Betsy would read
their very crude scripts in the old radio style, stood in a row, they had old
fashioned microphones and sound effects. Following Docs announcement
of an intermission to boost bar sales the night would continue with a spoof
of a T.V. game show with members of the audience again be un-paid
stooges. Doc would always play the game show host. The audience even
play the part of the audience, Doc boasted to his crew.
The final part of these evening would be Rasta Man. If the night needs
anything more, one of us can always jump up and do a stand-up job on them
first, Doc told Norman and Betsy. But I think Rasta can wind the night up
and hes got a few friends and family coming down, theyll spend a few
pounds and dance for free.
There was a good size crowd in quite early for this first of the new
Thursdays. As Norman returned to the bar area from the office, he noticed
Mr. Patel seated at the back flanked by two huge younger men. Opposite
him sat an older man. They looked completely out of place and Doc had
dimmed the lights in their corner thinking they could scare people
off. Norman went over shaking hands with Mr. Patel then the other three
after their introductions. He called over a waitress and instructed her to,
Keep this table happy all night at no charge.
The evenings entertainment was kicked off with Doc welcoming all. He
advised them that to save making this journey in future especially on cold
nights like tonight they could, Pay by Direct Debit, or even Internet
Banking, details from behind the bar. He then spent a few minutes insulting
all manner of things and personnel before handing over to his pals to run the
Karaoke.
Norman watched Mr. Patel look on with interested disbelief. His eyes
however wandered over to the tills and the newcomers as they arrived.
Maybe Doc was right thought Norman perhaps Mr. Patel will be thinking of
opening a Two Buttocks on every available street corner.
The night ran like a dream, Mr. Patel was clearly impressed with the
money being spent in the pub. Norman was kept busy managing the event
and Docs entertainment was a great success. Rasta was able to close down
the show. Mr. Patel was whisked away by his minders at the close; Norman
knew he would return the following night.
Betsy was on a real high on the way home that night. Norman was seeing
another side of his lady. She was so excited at the success of the Thursday
night. I had a lot of input on this night, you know, she said proudly, not
Eugene Binx
that I will get any credit. Doc will write up the critique, staple two fifty
pound notes to it and send it off to his mate. Once inside the apartment she
slipped into a deep depression. Norman kept his distance as he only liked the
simple things in life. The king-size bed provided them with their own spaces
that night. Norman read his book, getting up to meditate for a while Zazen
style.
Doc was to continue his old Friday format into this year, We only have to
open the fucking doors on Friday nights, being his philosophy. It was a
hecklers paradise, audition night, with Doc pulling them off with a long
hooked stick as and when it was funniest. A pro. would finish off the night.
Norman prepared from mid-morning having left Betsy in bed. Doc sat in the
office, a coffee maker bubbled away in the background. On the desk sat a
huge sixties table cigarette lighter. Beside his leather swivel chair a floor
standing cylinder ashtray. Massive posters of Docs favourite comedians
were stapled onto the walls; Groucho Marx, Woody Allen and Charlie
Chaplin. He received a call for Paddy which he switched through to Norman
in the bar.
Is Paddy there or not, croaked the caller.
Hes on holiday, Im Norman his barman can I help you.
Yeah, how much booze you want this weekend.
We have had our delivery yesterday.
Thats the Brewery one, Paddy gets a top up from me, on Saturday
mornings.
Does he, O.K. I dont know how much to order though.
Dont worry son, Ill just bring the usual. See you 6 a.m. on the dot, its
C.O.D. mind.
Sure, see you mate. Norman phoned Mr. Patel straight after to relay the
whole story.
Thats fine, Mr.Patel assured him, this helps to complete our accounts
jigsaw puzzle my boy. You say stocks were looking low from the brewery.
Paddy was getting a top up on Saturdays; cash on delivery of course. Tell
the guy this will be his last delivery, give him my number if it helps, Ill deal
with it and you order the extra from the Brewery next week.
Betsy had joined Doc in the office and was soon busy on the computer.
Norman gave her a hug as he poured the coffee. Once I have sorted out my
stuff here Im back to the apartment for a lazy afternoon, he announced.
Soon after, he was doing just that. Having travelled home on a bus. Once in
the apartment after a long shower he played his only C.D. Astral Weeks. He
loved the double bass sound. He had owned various guitars as a teenager,
even playing bass in a local band, False-Start.
Betsy returned by car in time to cook them an early evening snack.
Jacket potatoes O.K. with you Norman, she shouted over the top of his
continuous playing C.D. And whos strangling that cat. He nodded.
They taxied back to the Two Buttocks just after seven. Doc was still there
eating fish and chips with some of his helpers. Normans return signalled it
was nearly opening time. The phone was ringing, Ill get it, you guys just
sit there, he said.
Doc its your wife. Doc strolled over to take the call. He hung-up and
walked towards Norman. In a loud voice for all to hear he addressed him,
One of my children has been admitted to hospital, I must go now. Please
cover for me Norman, see you.
Norman nodded as he watched Doc leave. Then followed him outside, If
I can help just call me on the mobile. Doc hailed a passing black cab.
Norman returned to join the others. Betsy pulled him away and into the
office. You O.K. Norman, you look as white as a ghost.
Funny you should ask me that, in the last two minutes I have discovered
Doc is off tonight. Am I O.K.? No not really, still the show must go on. He
kissed her on the lips then carried on as if nothing had happened. Back in the
bar he addressed Docs crew. Oh yeah, oh yeah, you all know Doc has a
trauma to attend to, lets all jump in and plug the gaps, thanks and be careful
out there.
The doors were opened by Lottery Lenny, keen to be back on Friday night
duty. Mr. Patel and Co. were first in. Norman spotted them, he introduced
them to Lenny, No charge, he explained. They headed for the same table
as the previous night. Norman signalled their waitress; he then changed up a
gear, the night was to be a real challenge for him.
When the audience were looking ready for some action Norman strolled
out onto the stage. He made eye contact with Mr. Patel. Are you ready to
rumble, he yelled. The crowd screamed their delight. Norman had great
stage presence and his cabaret style black suit, frilled shirt, bow tie and
highly polished patent leather shoes added to the send up. Welcome back to
our new season of Friday nights, we will continue to drag the barrel to bring
you the very best of the very worst. Here at comedy direct we guarantee you
more laughs for your money, how do we do it? Its easy, our highly trained
staff bring you jokes direct, why pay comedians, no, we cut out the middle
man, so you the public can take advantage of huge savings on all our jokes,
this offer is subject to status. Lola dear, bring on our first contestant. A
very attractive helper of Docs brought on the first act. Docs crew would
Eugene Binx
run the show now; Norman would only return to introduce Mickey Finn, to
finish off the night.
Mr. Patel looked bemused his eyes blinked with each admission and ring
of the tills. He looks like a human calculator, Norman remarked to
Betsy. She nodded then responded to a barmaid calling her. Norman went
off to chat to Lenny at the front door.
The evening was yet another great success with Lenny having to turn
away dozens. Mr. Patel was aware of this and seemed to find it extremely
painful his face revealed. He did seem amused however as Docs extras
dressed in white coats yanked the auditions off the stage when their time
was up.
As the prop clock struck midnight, Norman took control again. Stood
centre stage a cigarette in one hand, bottle of Newcastle brown in the other.
He addressed the now intoxicated crowd, It is the time, we are to be visited,
we have waited long, toiled hard and now we are to be rewarded, he will
make us happy again, we shall be free to laugh. Bow your heads to Mickey
Finn.
Mickey walked out on his hands, fell upright, and straightened his suit up.
He was similar in many ways to Norman Wisdom. He gazed out at the
crowd, If my poor Gran could see you lot. This used to be a decent old
boozer. Not the sort of pub where you would swear in the presence of a
lady, no change there then. He studied the ladies in the crowd. Did you all
have a nice Xmas, cause I aint seen you since then ave I, tele was right
poxy again. Now Only Fools And Orses, I know, I know its more serious to
knock that than the Royals, but what a load of bollocks. Shame on you
B.B.C. still that documentary on Boxing Day wasnt bad, about an office in
Slough. Strange putting a documentary on prime time viewing though, that
geezer David Brent, some childhood he must have had. Thought I was
fucking screwed up, reality TV. its taking over. I sent in an idea, Bone Idle.
Do you notice now how all these soapsuds I mean stars that are killed off
suddenly pop up in another one; soap opera that is. I guess theres fuck all
else they can do with them really. Id like to see Jack and Vera turn up as
long lost relatives of the Dingles in Emerdale, no need for a costume
change, classic or what!
Norman and Betsy were busy cashing up, they could both hear Mickey
was not at his best.
I see Mickey is not wasting any good stuff tonight, said Betsy.
No need on a Friday really.
Doc. will not be amused when he hears the tape.
Norman nodded his agreement; he noticed Mr. Patel and friends leaving.
They all waved.
Mickey waved and shouted too, unknown to Norman he knew Mr. Patel
from using his restaurant. Ill be round yours in a minute, Mr. P. Table for
two please, not too near the bog. Mr. Patel laughed then shouted back, Get
on with your work Mickey. He did, knocking out a cockney medley on the
piano. Bungalow Bill would call this last night of the whinging fucking
poms, he added between verses. Land of Hope and Glory was too much for
Betsy.
She cracked, These Friday nights are the fucking pits Norman. Back in
the office they worked hard sorting the money into hundreds, then
thousands.
Look Betsy, see all this money. The people rule. Out there they have had
a great night, who are we to tell them they should have gone to the Opera.
Im still going to have a chat to Doc about Fridays; we should set a
standard.
The pair wasted no time in clearing the crowd out of the Venue, cleaning
and locking up. Norman had remembered his 6 oclock booze delivery in the
morning but he had not told Betsy. Once home they had no conversation
before they slept.
After what seemed liked no time, Normans watch alarm buzzed. He
slipped out of bed. In the hallway he used the phone pad to scribble a note to
Betsy. Forgot to tap beer for tonight, couldnt sleep, back soon, P.S.
borrowed your bike.
On his first bike ride since school days and with no lights, he looked
suicidal as he crossed Tower Bridge and then headed East. He arrived in
good time at the pub. There came a knock on the doors, outside stood
Lottery Lenny and his Nephew also named Lenny, after him. They looked
like Father and Son, a popular rumour and cause for many jokes at
McNaughtons Brewery over the years.
Got your booze ere guv, growled Lenny junior, as he pointed to his old
battered truck.
Lottery Lenny, you could have told me, you supply Paddy with booze.
Yeah I kept meaning to Norman, sorry to get you up this early Boss.
Paddy likes it this time, quiet and dark you see, well its still his pub aint it.
Yes its still his pub Lenny, lets get you unloaded; but this will be the
last time.
Eugene Binx
Rolling Stones, this will be the last time, sang Lenny. Then the two men
threw their tax free booze off the truck and down into the pub cellar, looking
and smelling like performing circus bears; before receiving their rewards as
Norman paid Lenny junior the cash.
He brings it over himself you see, said Lottery Lenny, looking a proud
man. We cant hang around for a cup of tea, see-yu tonight. Norman was
soon crossing over Tower Bridge on his way back to bed. In the flat Betsy
was still asleep; he ripped up the note he had left her.
The pair awoke just after ten. Betsy headed off to the shower. These hard
weekends are no good for our sex life Norman, she complained on her way,
have to wait till Monday now.
By mid-day the Two Buttocks was over run with various work activities.
Norman managed to reach Doc on his mobile. He was already on his way,
My daughters fine, he advised the anxious Norman. They all greeted him
as he rushed into the bar. Its Saturday folks, announced Doc, We have to
compete Saturdays, so lets get serious and be professional. We got Harry
Shagman, Betsy Norfolk, Zen Warwickshire and the Spin Doctor plus full
supporting cast.
Norman, Betsy and Doc would spend the whole day on site now. The
others would come and go. Betsy collected fish suppers at 6 oclock. They
relaxed in their easy chairs in the office. Doc was still busy on the phone as
he had many of his acts out that night at other venues. By 8 oclock there
were enough staff to open on time. Norman had a reserved sign on the table
for Mr. Patel and co. Shortly after eight they arrived. Norman joined them
for a few minutes. This place should be re-named the Royal Mint, insisted
Mr. Patel as the Two Buttocks started filling up with a typical looking
Saturday crowd.
Doc now on great form and dressed like the Artful Dodger kept jumping
up on the stage, looking out at the crowd and shouting out at Mr. Patel as if
he was Fagin, Plenty of pockets to pick here tonight. Norman wasnt that
sure about this idea. Mr. Patel seem to be up to it though, he was laughing
all the way to the bank, thought Doc as he picked his moment to get the
show going, bringing on his female double act, Sharon and Tracey, the
Essex girls. They chatted away to each other as if there was no audience.
That Gary nearly fucked my brains out last night, Sha.
Just a quickie then was it.
Yeah, ow did you know.
What is white Gary or black Gary, Trace?
I dunno, it was dark in that car-park Sha.
What car-park, Trace?

The one behind the Disco Sha.
Oh thatll be white Gary then Trace.
Betsy moved around in front of the stage to take some photos of them for
Doc; she was the only one bright enough to work the camera. The girls were
getting the evening off to great start; it all went over the head of Mr. Patel
and his companions, so they chatted amongst themselves.
Next up was the first of six, five-minute stand-up spots. Most being the
best from Friday nights at the various venues that Doc had an interest in.
Betsy was to close this first part. She chose the stripper, as her entrance
music. The crowd loved it and responded as if they were about to get a
striptease. This gave Betsy the lead into her routine.
I see we got some West-Ham supporters in tonight, and you friggin
Doctors should be ashamed. All the naked women you see and you still want
more. Not that youd get to see a body like mine on the National Health. So
here we are back again, its Saturday night at The Two Buttocks, live from
The Two Buttocks on Saturday night. Thank fucking Beckham Xmas is
over. I hate all that bullshit. Xmas day in my flat theres only one bird that
gets a good stuffing, me thats fucking right ladies its Beautiful as we say
in Norfolk. Now I know I should grow up and some times I really do
fantasise about having a proper family Xmas. Im in the kitchen cooking and
my husband is outside with our young children. He is helping them ride on
their bright shiny new Xmas bikes.
I wave to him as he turns and faces the window. He leaves the children
playing in the busy main road and rushes back into the house and into the
kitchen clutching a can of WD40 he collected from the double garage on his
way, then he throws me face forward over the table, scattering the mince
pies all over the floor. The turkey is sitting beside me on the table waiting to
be stuffed in its gaping rear end, and my husband still wearing the new
cardigan my mother knitted him for Xmas chooses me, drops his under-
carriage and shags me like Im his secretary at the office party. I guess thats
whats meant by, Behind every successful Woman is a Man. Yes you see
ladies I have got a maternal side after all.
She waved and blew kisses. Ill be back, theres much much much more
to come, so stick around, pour yourself a drink why the fuck not it is
Saturday. Im going to slip into something more comfortable, tarrah chuck.
Norman applauded loudly, short and sweet he thought to himself, why
not. Doc had chosen some bizarre interval music as usual, old musicals
being the nights theme. So as The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of
Music blasted out of the Fiasco, Norman stepped outside for some fresh air.
Eugene Binx
He and Lenny lit up cigarettes. Full moon tonight, pointed out Lenny.
Maybe Ive won the Lottery. Ill work the night out anyway. Both men
were still laughing when from out of the moonlight stepped a tall figure,
walking towards them slowly. The stranger stopped short of being
recognised, he shouted over at Norman, Hay big fella, know where a man
can get a drink, a bite to eat and a bed for the night.
Chapter Eleven - Hello Sailor
Chris Mason, you fucking great tart, shouted Norman as he started

walking towards his best mate. The men warmly shook hands and embraced
before returning to the pub. Norman introduced Chris to Lenny before going
back inside. Chris looked around in wide eyed amazement. Norman ordered
their drinks; they toasted The not so New Year.
Mr. Patel passed by, Norman, he whispered, we must go now.
Saturday night, is poker night, not dancing you understand. He laughed
and patted Norman on the shoulder. You are so busy in here again,
incredible really. I will look in on you again tomorrow my boy, take care.
Norman and Chris continued their reunion they were back together again
and it felt good.
But wheres your gear man, asked Norman.
Ah, well, I called for you, where your E-mail said.
What, the house?
Yeah, Ernest and Katie took me in and gave me your room.
Why?
I just told them I was your best school mate, back from the Navy, they
presumed the Royal. So they start treating me like a fucking war hero man. I
couldnt get a fucking word in edgeways. Its like weird. They wanted to
take me round to their local to introduce me to all their friends, me the war
hero! Ive even been invited to their Birthday bash at the Prince of Wales
tomorrow, did you know their birthdays are on the same fucking day man.
Weird or what! Theyre the same age and all. They look like brother and
sister to me, twins are they? Oh yeah they said to bring you along. Help me
man, get me out of there. Beam me up Norman.
I hear you Chris, you can come back with Betsy and me tonight.
You and Betsy! What sort of perverted world are you living in here
Norman.
Its just London Chris, youll soon get used to it.
Thank you, oh thank you Master, I am not worthy. Norman ruffled up
Chris hair.
Look lets go and grab Mr. Patels table, Ill get Betsy over to meet you.
Norman got Chris settled then went off in search of her. Doc somewhat
Eugene Binx
curious by now went over and introduced himself to Chris. Norman and
Betsy soon joined them. The four chatted away at 100 miles an hour, they
laughed together when Norman explained how Ernest and Katie thought
Chris was a war hero. Betsy said she was O.K. about him staying in the
apartment. Norman managed to convince Doc that with Chris the war hero
coming home, it would be very rude not to look after him.
Did he meet Colin the Destroyer? enquired Doc before he excused
Norman a full routine in return for some comparing. Doc and Betsy went
back to work. Norman and Chris were well into catch-up when Betsy
returned to their table, she whispered, Norm, give Doc a great big intro
now, please.
Norman got up ready for business. Once on the stage the audience slowly
took notice and a silence fell. He spoke, I came up here for something you
know, what the fuck was it, I hate it when that happens dont you? Oh yeah,
to introduce the next act of course. But while Im here, just a thought. Id
like to confide in you if I may, its older women, well old women really.
Ive just started to notice them. Well I reckon theyd be grateful for it, at
least. You can easily imagine that with my great Gatsby looks and
outstanding physique young ladies throw themselves at me. It is an
occupational hazard, we call them loonies, girls that hang around the stage
door of Comedy Venues. Women of easy virtue, its so shallow, I always
feel ashamed afterwards. Go on fucking laugh, pervert. Anyway as I was
saying, Women, Ive tried the younger post Thatcher types, modern girl,
nine to five. I feel a song coming on. But they read all those fucking
magazines and I mean fucking magazines. 100 pleasures to demand from
your man, I hope one of them involves shagging at least, perhaps not. Its
natural for Christ sake. When ever, did any guy spend all night plying some
female with free booze, to take her home and suck her toes I ask you! No
way, so lets think ancient, its not all lying in ruins you know. Joan Collins
Could you? Would you? You would mate youre older than her anyway.
Seriously, so I tried this old one out, it was great she was a Nurse, I dont
think shes in tonight, nope, good
The hospital crowd responded with loud applause and whistles, Norman
continued, Not a great looker, but built like a hospital tea trolley and yes,
she was desperate and grateful. You can get these magazines you know,
oldies at it, these are no calendar girls believe me, theres one called Gums.
Doc loaned it to me. That reminds me, sorry to waffle on, please oh loyal
and unruly crowd, give a Two Buttocks welcome to the one and only Spin
Doctor.
Doc made his entrance. He was wearing a sandwich board on which was
written, The End Is Nigh. He was dressed in an old black suit and Vicars
Collar. After he removed the board he started to spout a sermon of his
religious humour. Norman had returned to sit with Chris, they half listened
to Doc as he ranted and raved. But their conversation took priority.
You were good Norman Id like to see you do longer.
You will.
Zen Warwickshire, why?
Seemed like a good idea at the time.
So when do you make it big Zen.
Should be this year, if at all.
You need a road manager?
Need a road first.
Sure, want another drink?
Does the Pope have a balcony?
Not for much longer, but Ill get you a beer anyway. Chris set off to the
bar; Norman turned his attention to Doc on stage who was struggling a bit.
Norman had an idea so he stood up and shouted it out. Can you heal me
please?
Doc replied, No but I know a man who can, Oh Beckham. What is it that
ails you my son?
I cant get an erection.
I want everyone to hold hands and concentrate on this poor mans penis.
One drunken section of the crowd responded as Doc continued. Think hard
all of you, young man can you feel it, can you feel the power of thought on
your penis, Oh Beckham.
Oh yes, screamed Norman.
Then let it rise, shouted Doc.
It is, hallelujah, its a miracle, Ive got a hard on, oh thank you Beckham,
thank you.
Screamed Norman as he grabbed his crotch.
Now you all have seen the power of The Two Buttocks, those gathered
here when the end comes will be saved. said Doc as he put his sandwich
board back on and walked off the stage.
The lights dimmed as the crowd burst into great laughter and applause.
Chris arrived back with the drinks, he had been watching from the bar. You
Eugene Binx
guys are fucking crazy, he said as he slumped into his chair shaking his
head in disbelief. So whats next, Im ready for almost anything. Chris
didnt have to wait long for an answer.
Betsy walked straight out onto the stage to follow on from Doc. Dont
get too friggin excited you lot, she shouted. Im not here to introduce the
next act; Im it. No expense spared here tonight. Sharon and Tracy have
asked me to remind you their new Poncey Sisters C D is on sale behind the
bar. Its a double A side, I shagged the sheriff and Gary, plus sisters are
doing it to themselves.
I see a few of you made the sales last month, only just though. Is that a
stain or a motif on that Fruit Of The Womb top love, you shouldnt have
bought that, no matter how cheap it was; oh I see it says Nil By Mouth.
Youre out of luck tonight then mate. You can pop round and see me in the
morning, I like bite size for breakfast.
I went to the January sales; as you do, for the first time I should mention.
Well I had to; fucking Minimum Wage. Any way I saw a sign, shoes, buy
one get one free, yeah really. Brent Cross, its like being in the reception
area of a large hotel being used for a United Nations Conference; apart from
the smell of soiled nappies of course.
O.K. wait for it, now what I really, really, really hate about shopping
centres is, got your pens ready? Attractive young female sales assistants for
a start; music that attractive young female sales assistants like; shops
decorated in a style that attractive young female sales assistants like;
attractive young female shoppers that attractive young sales assistants hate.
Woof-woof got that off me chest.
What do you mean what chest you cheeky tosspot, remember any more
than a handful is a waste.
Have you noticed the stores all try to out do each other on the attractive
young female shop assistants, they try to seduce the men into enjoying the
sexual scenery while their wives take forever buying something theyll
never wear. They take the size into the changing rooms that they wish they
were and dont even bother to try it on; now this is real sad the double bluff.
They announce to anyone that is interested, ha, ha, ha, that they can see it
fits so well theres no need to try it on. Then, encouraged by their other half
who by now is so fucking horny undressing with his eyes, yes you got it,
attractive young female shop assistants and hes now desperate to get the
wife back home. Soooooooooooo, he can give her a good shagging with the
light off and pretend, yes you got it shes an attractive young female shop
assistant. Sex makes the World go round. But hey, O.K. her new friggin
dress doesnt fit, but look on the positive, at least she gets shagged twice in
January this Year and somebody in the third world gets a new dress.
You lot are putty in my hands, stop laughing, save some for the other acts
please. Getting back to the shopping, as a virgin, one thing that gets my old
goat going, mums and their fucking prams. Why take the kids, these were
the girls at school that liked the obstacle race, weird or what. They couldnt
run fast enough not to get pregnant, now they want to show off that their
tubes work. Like its a big deal, like anybody friggin cares. Do you know
Chinese tennis players give birth between sets! Yeah really. What I cant
resist is to get chatting to the mum that looks just a little too smug, drool
over her child with her and then announce I cant have children myself.
Then watch the look of guilt come up on her face before I say Only Joking.
I do like children though, but I couldnt eat a whole one, not on my own
anyway.
Single mums, what exactly are single mums? All mums look single to me
unless theyre joined at the hip to their other half and that would have been a
logistical nightmare. Do you know that most single mums live with a bloke
and they still call themselves single mums, its like some terminal disease,
you get told you got it till you die, its the same with single mums, the
Doctor tells them they are a single mum and they think they got it till they
die.
Now we got men on their own, pushing friggin prams round. Whats that
all about? Someone please tell me. You cant trust the bastards I know that,
theyre all on the pull. You can trust me, Im a single Father. Yeah like
fuck mate, where is the wife today? However of course he might just be
single, perhaps his wife died, I think Id think feel safer if she was still alive.
Well you cant be to careful girls, you can read some terrible things these
days; I make a point of it. Mind you I cant get hold of a copy of that sex
offenders list anywhere, even at the local library.
Date rape, Ive done that a few times, Ive had too. I tell em You give
me a good shagging mate or Ill set off my personal attack alarm. Well a
girls got her reputation to think about. The word gets out youre not a goer
and bang goes all your free nights out and its not cheap going out these
days you know. Unless you come down here I suppose, so I guess most of
you girls have failed to comply with the old C.O.D. Well I could talk the
knob off a donkey, but I wont, anyway enough of this girls chit chat Im off
to chain myself to some railings, its not that Im a feminist its just the way
I like my sex. See you soon, Beckham bless you.
Betsy got a deafening applause as she rushed off backstage. Norman and
Chris cheered as they toasted her good health. The D.J. unscripted played
some old rockn-roll and a few in the crowd started to dance; Doc joined
Norman and Chris at their table.
It was just over half an hour before Betsy joined the three having. She had
needed to phone her parents. Id like to do the final intro she shouted.
Eugene Binx
Doc just shrugged his shoulders, I dont care.

Betsy returned to the stage, It is time now for some male perspective on
the World, shouldnt be hard as they rule the fucking place, a huge Two
Buttocks welcome if you please girls and boys for tonights international
star Mr. Harry Shagman.
The men in the audience cheered as the ladies booed. Harry waved his
large Stetson hat in the air in appreciation of his reception. After a couple of
minutes he managed to quieten the crowd down.
Ladies, ladies dont show yourselves up please, a drunken woman is not
a pretty site. At least in Texas, the ladies know their place. Here in London,
well I find things a little liberal for my liking. In fact guys, I kindah think
you have given the ladies a bit too much slack on the old reins there. Need
to pull em in a bit, show em the whip and when they start to behave a lump
of sugar, so to speak.
Take Mrs. Shagman for example, a simple woman, goes without saying of
course. A good wife and mother to our seven children, however there have
been times, when I have had to remind her of those marital duties in the
bedroom. Yes, I have found dust on the window ledge. Sue Ellen, I said if I
wanted to live in a pigsty Id have married one of those liberal English
women. Mrs.Shagman comes from prime Texas female stock you see. In the
old days Id only have to look at her in a certain way and shed calf. But it
took its toll; shes a big old gal now, a real handful, quite a challenge really.
Some nights I stand out on the porch with my brandy and cigar, aware that
Mrs.Shagman is in the bedroom awaiting her last duty of the day and I think
to myself, oh Lord give me the strength to get through this, to climb the
mountain called love. Well I go upstairs and you know I hear her snoring,
the good Lord has answered my prayers, he moves in mysterious ways
friends. I feel a song coming on.
I reckon making love is for youngsters, sex is for the elderly. But you
know women dont seem to be aware of this. I have a sexual arrangement
with a young lady at the office. It still works fine, if you know what I mean,
but Mrs.Shagman, now shes a bit, well old-fashioned. A great believer in
the missionary position. When you get to my age the masonry position is a
much more exciting pro-position. Yep, two minutes up against a wall in the
poor part of town sure beats the hell out of a marathon in pink silk sheets at
South Fuck.
But ladies, I wouldnt want youll to get the wrong idea here, not that you
should be listening into mens business anyway; I am considered liberal
myself in Texas by many of the old boys, oh yes sir, you bet, sure thing, in-
deedy. Take the other day for example I allowed Mrs.Shagman to be the
first lady within her social group to purchase a vibrating penis, on the
condition of course that it be a white one. Therefore now when I am away

on a business trip she can, whilst thinking about me of course, take care of
ladies business. Therefore avoiding the desperate measures taken by some of
her group, resulting in some cases in divorce, sexually transmitted diseases
and even multiple orgasms a most un-natural act if you ask me. So you see
my friends, what might seem a liberal gesture on my behalf could indeed
save my family. Well, no good getting older unless you get wiser. Betsy,
Doc, Norman and Chris studied the big American, This guys good,
commented Chris to the others.
Oh yeah, hes found an easy niche to crawl about in, shouted Betsy as
Harry got a loud audience response with his, If you aint for me, youre
again me, routine. I think some of your Women folk need a good horse
whipping fellas, tonight.
Should be on the Royal Variety Show, old Harry boy, joked Doc.
So should my friggin Father, they got a lot in common, responded Betsy
in an acid tone.
Comedy is a very nasty business, these days, added Norman. If you
cant take it you shouldnt give it out, Zen says.
Another drink! One for the gutter anybody? asked Chris as he fumbled
with a huge clip of bank notes.
Yes please sailor, answered up Betsy. The others nodded their
acceptances as they watched Harry dig himself an even deeper hole with the
ladies in the crowd and Betsy.
Norman called over a waiter to take their order, Well why not, he told
Chris. I am the boss. Doc noted Harry was going well over his usual
length of stand-up.
Hes enjoying winding the crowd up to night, hell have to start writing
new stuff soon, said Betsy in a mocking tone. Harry informed the men in
the crowd, That he had never yet needed to take his boots off whilst making
love to a real Lady. He reckoned that the sound of the spurs rattling got them
pretty dam excited. Then confessed though that sometimes he does take his
hat off. Thats where the old expression comes from, he added, Ill take
my hat off to that little Lady. The waiter arrived with their drinks. Chris
proposed a toast, To men behaving boldly, Texas and Harry
Shagman. Betsys glass was absent from the toast.
Harry gave the queue and the theme tune to Dallas roared through the
Fiasco. He did his usual stepping down to shake hands with carefully
selected applauding males. Still with his microphone working he announced,
Ladies, Ladies please be patient if there is time I will get round to meeting
Eugene Binx
some of you too. Or you can visit me on my web site, thats

www.shagharryplease.com.
With that as his final line he sloped off into the darkness at the side of the
stage and made his way to the office; Doc was there to meet him. Harry was
a no nonsense guy he would be paid and then slip out of the nearest door;
Doc returned to join the others. This was the time Doc, Betsy and Norman
liked the best of every working night. They welcomed Chris into their
perfect time with drinks on the house. The D.J. finished the night off well,
he had a knack of getting the music just right for the crowd, with a little help
from Doc of course.
Lenny after checking with his pocket-watch and Norman started to clear a
few glasses off the tables, this showed the crowd it was getting near to,
Going home time, as he called it. Norman got up to add a bit of support.
Doc, Betsy and Chris were settled in for the night. The staff were busy
putting customers into their taxis as Norman re-joined his friends.
Lenny escorted the final few to the door before he shouted his farewells to
all. The staff set themselves up at the table next to their bosses. Friendly
verbal exchanges soon started up.
Well Norman, how much money have we taken for you tonight, said
Patrick.
What night is it Patrick? asked Doc.
Saturday? he replied.
Yes Patrick Saturday and we tell the jokes on Saturday, but you can pour
the drinks, mines a large one.
Patrick smiled as he set about producing drinks all round.
On the house, called out Betsy.
Whose house? asked Patrick.
Our house is in the middle of our street, ah-ha, sang Doc, Norman,
Betsy and Chris. Great laughter and noise broke out and continued as
another party headed into the early hours. Staff taxis turned up from time to
time, Doc was the last to leave as Norman, Betsy and Chris were trying to
solve the problems of the World. The three would have drunk till daylight
had the pub temperature not dropped to nearly freezing.
Their tiredness came on as they taxied over to the apartment and they
were silenced. Their return was so late that the heating was off; Betsy
quickly produced a sleeping bag for Chris to bed down on a sofa, she and
Norman sought the comfort of the king-size. Moments later they were all
asleep.
Neither Norman nor Betsy had mentioned to Chris the apartment was on a
wharf, where high tide came up to the window ledges. He was sleeping on
the sofa facing the windows; it was his first night off the ship. Daylight had
just arrived but had not disturbed the three.
Suddenly Norman and Betsy were woken by Chris stood in the middle of
the apartment in his underwear mortified, he was shouting, ship along side,
ship along side. Sound the alarm. The situation got worse as Betsy had got
up through the night and put a white face pack on. With her and Norman
now both stood up on the bed, Chris managed to turn his head round to face
them. Added to the noisy barge he had just seen at the windows he could
now see what seemed to be a very tall ghost standing beside someone he had
been at school with. He was now in such a mess, his mind unable to put the
scene into perspective, he dropped to the floor calling for his Mother.
Norman rushed over, the barge headed off back out into the Thames. Betsy
went off to the bathroom to remove her face pack. It was a slow process but
Norman managed to talk Chris back to reality. Betsy joined them with
coffees, cigarettes and an explanation.
Its the River Police Barge, they check the wharf out. explained Betsy,
thats all.
I didnt know this apartment was by the fucking sea, replied Chris.
Not the sea, the River man, its London, you know! the River Thames?
added Norman.
I do now. Ive sailed the fucking World without fear and I come to
London and get the crap scared out of me. Replied Chris.
Its the booze man, you lost it. You woke up and didnt know where you
were. Well it is your first night off the ship. This is so fucking funny man,
shouted Norman. Betsy was already laughing. Chris jumped up running over
to their bed he grabbed a pillow, returning to attack. Betsy gave him the slip
she made it back to the bed picking up two pillows. Norman, Norman
catch, she shouted, he managed to side step Chris to catch the pillow and
enter into a three-way fight. After a couple of minutes and three spilled
coffees they all submitted.
Norman re-boiled the kettle for replacement coffees. They now mellowed
on the sofas, Norman and Betsy feeling relaxed and good humoured, Chris
still recovering from his traumatic experience. They stayed awake and
drifted on into Normans idea of microwave pizza for breakfast. Betsy could
only avoid this by taking off on her bike. The two men eat, drank and
smoked for a while before nodding off again. Norman had made Chris
promise he would remember where he was. I cant go through that again,
he exclaimed.
Eugene Binx
You cant, what about me! Chris pleaded, I might start bed wetting.
At mid-day they were woken by the ringing of the telephone, Norman
being the only one able to find it answered. It was Betsy she had called on a
friend and would not return for a while; that night she was doing a stand-up
at The Micro-Wave for Doc. Chris seemed pleased with this news, he had
some ideas for Normans ears only.
It was time for Chris to find his way round the apartment, he made a fresh
brew of coffee.
Phew, some night that, he gasped as he lit up his cigarette with the help
of the cooker.
Worth it though, sighed Norman.
Sure, always is.
Got to do it all over again tonight.
Thats a long way off man, just relax.
I have to go in and sort the bar out first.
Ill help you, itll take no time.
Thanks, I accept your offer.
My gear is at your Uncles.
Ill pop round early evening, pick it up, theyll understand.
You could say, President Bush has sent for me, few loose ends to tie up.
Or I could tell them the truth.
No dont; they think by putting me up theyre were doing their bit
towards the war. Fucking great! well Ill deal with it anyway.
So I can stay here till my ship sails.
Yeah sure, now you sit tight cause I am off to shower myself back to
life.
With Norman out of the room, Chris fumbled through his jacket to find
his mobile phone. He was soon phoning around till he tracked down his
mate Eddie.
Hi Eddie, Chris here, bad line, what you up to you dirty dog.
What youd expect really, Im in an opium den , like the one in that film
with De Niro.
You wish dog.

O.K. Im at my parents, in the bathroom, Im bleaching my hair, should
look great with some gel on. The wrinklies are in the lounge watching bowls
on the wide screen and discussing laminated flooring. Get me out of here.
Sure thats why Im calling. I want you to come over for tonight, check
my mate out for the cruise. I watched him last night; hes a good stand-up
comedian and would be a great asset to our social lives, a bit of a babe
magnet.
Sounds great, but where are you?
Here, but where are you?
Here, Newbury-on- boredom of course.
Oh your folks, I remember, phone me your train time and Ill meet you at
Paddington.
Cheers you just saved my life, whats your mates name?
Zen Warwickshire.
Youre fucking joking I hope.
You can call him Norman.
Thats better, Eddie and out.
Chris put his phone away as Norman walked back into the room. You
feeling better?
Yes sure man, poor me a coffee please.
Norman, I have an idea to run by you.
You need my advice?
Not as such, no, it concerns you or it could do.
Shoot then dog. You put sugar in this?
I couldnt be bothered.
Good, so your idea was?
Its like this Norman, you know when you E-mailed me, you said.
Oh yes, I know what I said, so what.
Well I pulled a few strings and if you want, theres a job.
Really, doing what? Or should I ask.
Eugene Binx
Of course, would I drop you in it? Its entertainment man.

Entertainment!
Thats it, money for old jokes.
That was funny, I might use that.
Feel free, O.K. my mate Eddie hes sort of entertainment manager, on the
ship.
Sort of!
Well, the last guy left, well fell overboard actually he was pissed as a
newt, but couldnt swim like one and they never got round to replacing him.
So Eddie became manager by default. He doesnt get the going rate though,
but hes happy just being the boss its a fucking doddle. I have to work, he
has to play. Anyway he can give you the cruise. What do you say?
I dont know.
Thanks you little darling, might be a good start.
Thanks you little darling, but.
Ah the big but, Betsy, we got enough girls on board, you can leave her
home.
Its her home.
Better still, now whats the but?
But when do we sail?
That a boy, next Thursday.
Just like that!
Just like that.
I dont know what Id say to Betsy.
Just tell her the truth.
I cant do that.
Better still, tell her a lie. Youre going to work for the Red Cross in
Afghanistan.
I cant do that.
Africa!
No, Ill sleep on it.
But youre up for it?

Yes, yes, yes.
This might help. Eddie is coming up to meet you tonight. Call it an
interview or audition if you like. Though the jobs yours already. Im going
to bring him over to the pub. Now you let him kip on the other sofa tonight,
well have a few beers, game of cards. Betsy will be disturbed even annoyed
I guess if you dont check it with her first. Shell be glad to see the back of
you mate on Thursday. Shell realise you were still one of the lads at heart
and its her thats having the lucky escape. While youre sailing away shell
be busy changing the door locks, maybe even moving, going into hiding or
shagging Patrick.
O.K. enough, I get the big picture thank you, Im drumming up some bad
Karma here.
You just worry about this life; so now were sorted.
Seems so, I need to get over and start work, Ill take a rain-check on your
offer to help. Slam the door behind you if Betsy is not back when you go to
pick up Eddie. See you later on.
Chris smiled as Norman set off, The deal is done, he said to himself
wandering round the living space. I should be a salesman. Mind you I am
saving this guy from this hamster-wheel life and wife! Not that I expect any
thanks. This is nice though, very nice, too fucking nice, I dont like nice.
He picked up a pair of Betsys Knickers laid on the bed, This is not nice,
he threw them back down. His phone rang, he answered, Yo, Eddie what
news?
Seven sound good?
You got it. Be wearing a frown, cause Ill be late, cheers.
Chris returned to his chair, he had some time to kill. After discovering the
big screen he watched some television, channel hopping till he settled on
some extreme sports. He dozed off. The front door slamming close awoke
him, it was Betsy. She was friendly, putting the kettle on for a fresh brew.
They drank their coffee together. Chris explained he had to go and meet a
shipmate at the station. He was drawn into a conversation with Betsy that he
had not bargained for. Oh the web we weave, he thought.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked away from the apartment. Then
decided, still with time to kill to check out the area would be a reasonable
way to loose an hour and consider his conversation with Betsy. He walked
through to Tower Bridge, the day was dark the Bridge lights reminded him
of life at sea. He wandered into the shopping area and gazed at the luxury
apartments so close to the Thames. This is bollocks, nice bollocks though,
Eugene Binx
he mumbled to himself, causing a passing couple to avoid eye contact with

him. Time for Paddington, he thought, Im early, lads on the ship reckon
theyd found bargain hookers there, hum, Ill see whats on offer if theres
time. He set off for West London.
Paddington Station, here you are, he muttered, and Im early, Bring on
the girls.
Chris, Chris, came Eddies calls. He was of medium build and in his
early forties; with his holiday camp dress sense and clean cut good looks, he
was easy to spot. Thank mermaids youre here. I had to get an early train,
my parents were driving me fucking mad, good job they dont sell guns in
Woolworths.
Calm down, I was just about to get laid so Id like to shoot your parents
too. Nice hair.
Thanks, lets get over to this pub of your mates, now.
The two men queued up at the station taxi rank for a few minutes. In a
cab heading for a good night out, nothing changes, said Eddie.
Nor should it, replied Chris.
Their cab pulled up outside the Two Buttocks. It was closed. Eddies jaw
dropped.
Fucking Osborne, if I wanted to see a closed pub, I could have stayed in
poxy Newbury
Shut the fuck up man, Norman is inside working, come on. Chris
knocked on the door. This is better man, a closed pub and Im on the
inside, shouted Eddie as Doc let them in.
Shush Eddie, youre not on board now, settle down, advised Chris.
Norman greeted them, introductions were lengthy, drinks were poured and it
was Eddie that proposed a toast, To Sunday, this Sunday. What you got on
here tonight guys?
Its Sunday night at the Two Buttocks, explained Doc.
Well it would be and, replied Eddie.
O.K. we have top of the bill Bungalow Bill, some live Reggae from
Rasta Man. My good self and Norman will plug some gaps. Then there
should be a few auditions up, if they can find the Venue. Plus of course our
Comedy Disco, I mean Fiasco and I nearly forgot, our special surprise
audition guest, Eddie.
Money good? asked Eddie
The word audition, means you dont get paid, replied Norman.
Great racket mate, Ill try that on the ship. Anyway put me down for an
hour.
You got 5 minutes, Eddie what? asked Doc.
Just Eddie, he replied.
O.K Eddie Just, hows that sound?
Like a sixties pop star, call me Eddie Blizzard or I dont go on.
That sounds like a fifties pop star, but its a deal, you drive a hard
bargain. insisted Doc.
Eddie and Chris took themselves and their drinks to a table well away
from the stage. Best let them get set up now, suggested Chris.
Doc whispered to Norman he would like a few private words in the office.
They wandered off, Norman wearing a nervous look. Both sat in the office.
Doc broke the silence, I had a phone-call today, at home, from Nigel. Hes
coming back, which is good; hell stay up at the flat with us. I need to
mention something though re. Nigel. You know he was pretty fucked up in
his head, thats why he went home to his family. Well, the reason was
Norman, he had been having a relationship with Betsy, and she dumped
him. Not long before you dropped onto our planet, they were an item. He
was living in, the, apartment. Her parents bought that, so shed have a nice
place of her own. You see Nigel is about your age, Betsy of course thirty-
ish. He thought it was forever. But Betsy isnt up for that. She comes from a
wealthy back round and she isnt going marry one of you poor bastards. One
day when the time is right, shell go back to Norfolk and marry some rich
farmer, but in the meantime grab it and shag it Norman, shes hot. Sorry but
with Nigel coming back.
Thanks for telling me Doc, Nigel and I will not be crossing swords, not
quite.
The two men returned to work, Doc wandering what Normans last
comment had meant. Norman was excited by Docs news. It was still an
hour or so before opening, Doc took the orders for the chip shop. He soon
returned, all now gathered at one large table. Some of the bar staff swelled
their numbers. The noise of eating gave the venue an atmosphere of troops
before battle. Lenny barged in, This place stinks of fish and chips guys, Im
going to open some windows. Lets get professional here.
Hes right, it takes the doorman to get us back on track, announced Doc
as Lenny spotted Mr. Patel and Co. arriving and let them in.
Eugene Binx
Dont pay us any attention boys, well just reserve our table till youre
ready, good evening everybody. Said Mr. Patel most humbly.
This place is weird, whispered Eddie to the others as he and Chris
returned to their table.
So who you going to be tonight Eddie? enquired Chris.
Make em laugh son, just make em laugh.
How?
I got five minutes man, thats all, by the time I introduce myself, its time
to say goodbye. I will just tell em a joke, just one. You know why, no. Ill
tell you why. Only one joke only one possible failure, right. I throw in a few
half funnies as I go along, if the punch line doesnt hit the spot, its not a
problem, youll see, theyll still applaud me, bet you and my hair looks
cool.
This crowd will not be your cruisers you know Eddie, this is an
alternative comedy venue.
They are just fucking punters man, Joe public, bet me.
No, you want another drink?
Just a large one.
Lenny opened up, after he had been round twice with the fresh air spray
that was giving Mr. Patel a coughing fit. I preferred the fish and chips
smell, joked Eddie.
There had been a queue and they filed in, handing over their hard earned
cash as if in search of some Holy Grail. Soon they were throwing even more
money over the bar, which reminded the bar staff of why they were there.
Patrick only employed attractive females, there were, Tits everywhere, he
would often comment and the busier the bar the more they wobbled up and
down, he would advise the customers as if it was like some old fairground
game.
Roll up and put your money in the till and see the action, he shouted in
his charming Irish accent. None of this was wasted on Mr. Patel he admired
the girls every move. They were aware of his eyes fixed on them, it made
them feel uneasy, except Lisa, she boasted, Id fuck him for a grand, but Id
fuck anybody for a grand.
Within an hour and a half the venue was packed out, it was very noisy.
Doc insulted the audience and the auditions got underway. Eddie would go
up last after a special introduction. He now waited his call in a subdued
manner. Chris noticed a change in his mate and wandered if he could and
would produce the goods he had promised. Eddie smiled as he watched the
auditions struggling to break through. Without notice Doc closed that part of
the show with the announcement of a special audition still to come, Here at
the World famous Two Buttocks, the true home of comedy we bring you
another, yes another first. A special audition act, yes a truly international
audition act live-ish right now. Hes just back from entertaining our boys
and girls on the high seas, its Mr. Eddie Blizzard, yes thats Blizzard folks.
Eddie, set off towards the stage. He grabbed his beer and Chris cigarettes.
Save your applause for the ones that are getting paid, Quipped Eddie.
They wont feel guilty taking their wages and you wont feel youve been
ripped off. Dont point them at me love, they might go off. Everyones a
winner, what about those old sayings though, old wives tales. Hard work
will not kill you, what, do you know in the developed countries work is still
the biggest killer, honest. Two can live as cheaply as one, thats a double lie,
that one. One cant even live cheaply; two can live twice as expensively as
one it should be. A problem shared is a problem halved. No, a problem
shared is in fact a problem doubled. Opposites attract, bollocks, however,
with that in mind I will now, if I may, share with you a recent family
problem, as I feel so relaxed in your company. My brother and sister- in-law
have a teenage daughter. Claudia, their only child, yeah they tried it once
and didnt like it, you know the sort of family Im talking about. Sad with a
capitol F.
Claudia has had a sheltered life, well nearly. Little while ago they all
visited the Zoo. As Claudia is nearly seventeen, she was allowed to wander
off on her own. After a while her parents hear this siren and see zookeepers
running towards a large cage. They decide to be nosey
Perhaps someone has fallen in with the lions, thats handy, said her Dad
switching on his cam-corder. When they catch up with the crowd, they
discover Claudia is the centre of attention. A massive gorilla has, well lets
say tried it on with her. She is traumatised but unharmed. The family leave
the Zoo rather embarrassed Kids! Any way back home Claudia goes into a
sulk, will not come out of her room, wont eat. After a couple of weeks her
mother decides, enough is enough. A woman-to-woman chat is needed.
Claudia, we know you had a traumatic experience, but the Doctor says
you are fine and must forget it, move on. So tell me Claudia what is it? What
is the matter dear?
Claudia spoke, at last. He hasnt phoned or come round or even written!
The crowd laughed enough, The old ones are the best, shouted Eddie,
jokes, women, cars, shoes, whiskey. Have a good week, if you aint coming
back, have a good life. Night-night.
Eugene Binx
Eddie launched a doll he had quickly made up out of balloons out over the
crowd. Doc shook his head at Norman, both men smiled. Eddie had passed
his audition. Even Mr. Patel laughed as the life size doll flew by his table.
Doc took over the stage to introduce an audition, the Bag Lady. She
clambered up onto the stage, cursing everything and everybody. Doc
rejoined Norman.
I guess you could do a spot tonight Zen, well split the middle act, ten
minutes each, suggested Doc, You first.
Sure, I got some ideas, replied Norman, this Bag Ladys a bit rough
Doc.
Yeah, but it works well, a great character. Shush listen to her.
I told the old bill, I was graped down the market. You mean raped
Madam said this snooty little bastard. No I sez, there was a bunch of them.
Eddie was now watching the Bag Lady with Chris they laughed. A few of
the audience passed by, they wanted to know more about Eddie. He obliged,
even handing out bogus business cards with a fictitious web-site address.
Youre so full of bullshit man, remarked Chris.
Yeah I know, replied Eddie, but I mean well. You will need to get
Norman down to Kings cross tomorrow first thing for some jabs, at the
hospital of course, if hes coming with us, right.
Sure, replied Chris, handing back one of the business cards.
The night was going so well that Mr. Patel could spare his ears the
comedy disco. He had seen enough. He called Norman over, We will go
now my boy, he whispered, I see that Paddys goose is laying yet another
golden egg. We will meet tomorrow, mid-day here if it suits you. Ill take
you for lunch after, my place, my treat, just us. Norman just nodded and
smiled.
Doc arrived at Eddie and Chris table, Hey Eddie, would you do an intro
for Norman, I mean Zen, please.
Eddie jumped up and made his way up onto the stage. Testing, testing,
one two, one two. Is it switched on? He banged the microphone like a
steward at a working mens club. Yes I think its switched on now, testing,
testing, yes thats better. More treble please, thank you, can you hear me at
the back? The lady by the fire exit, no theres not a fire dear, can you hear
me love, put your hand up if you can hear me. No, over here love, you cant
hear me, you can hear me. Well make up your fucking mind love, we are
trying to do a show, a show dear. O.K. she can hear me, great. Before I
make an announcement, the committee has asked me to remind you the Two
Buttocks fridge magnets are on sale behind the bar. All proceeds go to a
good cause, to send Stan and Joans daughter Beryl to America for Silicon
breast implants. Now back to the evenings entertainment. It is my privilege
as joint acting secretary of this establishment to welcome on stage, a young
man with a big dick, yes its Mr. Zen Warwickshire. Ladies and gentlemen
give the lad a big round of applause. Zen the stage is yours son.
Norman arrived pan faced. The crowd went quiet and attentive; some
knew Zen as Norman the doorman, some as the venue manager, some as
Zen. Some had even heard the name on the circuit not knowing it was
Norman. Nearly a minute passed without a Zen moment. Suddenly he pulled
a box of matches from his jacket pocket. He showed the crowd they were
real, even lighting one as final proof. He walked away from centre stage
having placed the box on the floor on its end. Then turning to the crowd,
took his jacket off and started to clap his hands above his head. Eddie joined
in and the clapping soon spread through the audience. Zen lined himself up
with the matchbox and after some athletic type final preparations, he ran
towards the box jumping over it. The crowd lead by Eddie cheered. Zen
looked back at the box with a desperate expression, then clenched his fist
and turned to the crowd to take their applause. On queue one of the
barmaids walked on stage and presented him with a pint jug, he spoke, Id
just like to say, a big thank you to all my friends and family for supporting
me, believing in me and saving me all their empty matchboxes to practice
on. But its not all me, me, me. I just hope that I will be an inspiration to
other young kids growing up rough on the streets of Golders Green. Ive
been there, done that, got the skullcap. But it doesnt have to be like that, the
Zen Warwickshire and Jonathon Backwards foundation sponsored by Red
Light matches now offers real hope to others that want to pursue extremely
silly sports. Thank you.
Doc was caught out by Normans abrupt finish, leaving the stage lights
up. The crowd presumed they were getting more. Norman just walked back
on held up his trophy kissed it and left the stage again. This time Doc still
surprised by the Zen act did blackout the stage. Norman slipped backstage to
the office to continue with the paperwork that Mr. Patel would wish to
inspect the next day. The Fiasco played on.
That was weird, said Chris.
Very alternative, as long as he can blow up balloons hes got the job,
replied Eddy.
I wander where hes gone, Ill go check him out.
Sure, on your way back if you pass the bar mines a large one.
Chris took off in search of Norman after Doc pointed him in the right
direction.
Eugene Binx
Mind if I join you Eddie, asked Doc as he sat down.

Be honoured Doc, want me to introduce you too?
How did you guess?
Male intuition Doc, same style do you?
Yeah, that was fine, good idea. What do you make of Zen?
Takes bottle that sort of thing, but I think your crowd is up for it.
Wonderful thing entertainment, they should let those Palestinians into that
Eurovision Song Contest you know, after all Israel is in it. Thats probably
whats causing most of that problem.
Are you serious, Eddie or what!
What, actually.
Interesting theory though, the simplest solutions are often over-looked
and Ive never understood why our Foreign Minister is never foreign.
They were joined by Norman. Chris was still at the bar. Where is that
retched boy, asked Eddie, man shouldnt be dieing of thirst in a pub,
imagine if the papers got hold of this story.
Chris arrived with the drinks swimming in the tray. Never think he is a
waiter, would you? asked Eddie, Look hes still rolling with the ship.
The four laughed. Eddie headed off to the stage.
Once in position, he banged the microphone, Ladies and Gentleman I
have an announcement to make. He pulled a piece of paper from his
pocket, along with a pair of glasses. It has come to the attention of the
committee, that certain members of the Two Buttocks Working Mens Club
have been removing the toilet rolls from the lavatories thus causing much
distress to other folk. If this continues the committee will have to withdraw
the two-ply extra soft toilet paper and put on sale behind the bar, individual
toilet tissue packs, thank you. Now it is time to move on again with the
entertainment, so without further ado here he is The, Spin, Doctor, funny
name! Is that right aye?
Yes thank you very much Eddie, hes doing a great job tonight. Yes Im
the Spin Doctor. Do you ever ask yourselves, why is there only one
monopolies commission? Should Gays be allowed to vote? Should the
homeless be tagged? Should women have to take the same driving test as
men? Was there Football on Mars? How many sides has a football got? Two
aye, you cleaver fucker, want a job? Did Jesus just heal those people with
Germolene? All questions that need answering. And what was that? That
Meatloaf would not do for love? The mind boggles; I would have thought
that guy would do anything, Oh how we laughed. Lets get back to football,
Wembley Stadium, why knock it down? Oh yeah, I forgot, to build a new

one. For what reason, sweet F.A. So why dont all old buildings get replaced
then? New Stone Henge, the New Pyramids.
Norman, Chris and Eddie had got chatting, having lost interest in Doc and
the Two Buttocks. Norman called a waitress over with more drinks.
So Norman, said Chris is this a farewell drink to all this.
Norman nodded, Oh shit, he said, I forgot to sort things out with Ernest
and Katie, about your gear. Ill pop round to the Prince, just catch them for
last orders and see you in fifteen. Oh shit its their birthday and I havent got
them a present.
No probs just tell em youre leaving, thatll make their day special, said
Chris, as he and Eddie laughed at Doc doing a Tony Blair impersonation
followed by David Blunkett looking for weapons of mass destruction. Now
you know why David Blunkett, shouldnt be Prime Minister, talk about the
blind leading the blind or what, he screamed.
This is another World Chris, said Eddie. But give me the open sea any
day.
Doc was off stage before Norman returned, making his way back to Eddie
and Chris.
Ive sorted things out, Ernest and Katie know Im off too. We are always
welcome to use the room when were in London guys, announced Norman.
And they werent born on the same day Chris, you fucking wind-up
merchant. They just celebrate the two at once, as theyre close.
Bet they think were going back to war.
No you silly fucker, they were winding you up, they know youre on the
cruisers, I forgot that I must have told them about you. Ill pick up your
worldlies tomorrow lunchtime.
Ill head back with Eddie first thing to his folks in Newbury, offered
Chris, give you space to sort things out with Betsy. If, sorry, when she
kicks you out, you can use that room and then meet up with us at the ship.
Dont forget first thing tomorrow your jabs and my worldlies. Norman
nodded.
The music stopped as Bungalow Bill had decided against Docs wishes to
introduce himself, this novel idea had the crowd in fits of laughter and
became half of his act. Norman, Chris and Eddie all studied him and
enjoyed being insulted along with the audience. He finished by singing the
Long and Whinging Road.
Eugene Binx
Doc had decided this night to put Rasta on last, as he introduced himself
he pointed to a loud speaker, Magic box speak-um, he announced. This
Doc funny went down well with the crowd. The live music finished off the
show in the most perfect way; with the help of a Doc Reggae composition,
Lord of de tings. Rasta had brought along his next-door neighbour to play
bongos, Unpaid of course, Doc had insisted.
Lenny was fairly swift sending people on their way Sundays, reminding
them they had work the next day. By 1 oclock the evening was just a
collection of blurred memories as a few staff hung back for a free late drink.
Doc had left. A taxi hooted at 2.30 to take Norman, Chris and Eddie back to
the apartment. They had agreed there was no need for a game of cards as
Betsy would be pissed off enough as it was and they were shattered. Betsy
was asleep; Norman quickly dimmed the lights and pointed the guys
towards their sofas. Once in bed he whispered his explanations to Betsy, she
responded.
If I didnt know you better Norman Id think you were perverted. You
keep bringing all these strange men back after work are you trying to tell me
something, trying to spice up our sex life?
No its not like that honestly, just mates.
Only joking dear, get some sleep because thats all you are getting
tonight, goodnight.
Norman slipped out of bed stumbling his way over to Chris. Tell Eddie
about the Police barge man, dont want him getting freaked out like you
did. he whispered.
Betsy was not amused trying to get to sleep to the sound of three men
snoring in different keys and gave some serious thought to her situation
before she was overcome by tiredness. The three men left early in the
morning. Norman scribbled her a note, explaining he had much work to do
at the pub and the guys had an early train to catch. The three travelled to the
hospital, there Chris and Eddie left Norman in the queue for his jabs. They
then made their way to Paddington Station for breakfast and their train
journey to Newbury. Norman was still feeling a touch faint when he arrived
at the Two Buttocks just after eleven. Pleased to have some time to finish
the books off, he made himself a strong coffee and lit up a cigarette. By
mid-day he had all the cash accounted for and was on his third coffee and
cigarette when he heard the doorbell ring. It was Mr. Patel, Norman showed
him through to the office.
Take a seat Mr. Patel.
Thank you Norman, are you well.
A little hung-over, to be honest.

Ah I see, the old Devil drink. I have a motto, to only get drunk once a
day, ha, ha, ha.
Ill certainly take your advice Mr. Patel, thank you, can I get you a gin
and tonic.
Yes please my boy, just a large one ha, ha, ha. Mr.Patel glanced at his
watch for approval.
Here we go then, Norman returned from the bar. He poured himself yet
another coffee.
Well Norman, I see your figures confirm the now obvious. Quite
amazing. I never knew. Paddy tripped over a pot of gold when he met Doc.
Alright Nancy still had to convince him to take that big step though. Terrible
shame about Nancy, nice funeral. Were you there Norman? I didnt notice.
Yes Mr. Patel, we were very close friends.
I see, sorry I had know idea.
Neither did I at the time.
We should move on, as I was saying. A plan, solution you could say to
apply here. Paddy as we know did not do so well here last year and the
comedy was slow to get going. Mr. Patel winked, therefore it is only
reasonable that after the alterations that were made here to allow the comedy
a better facility and the increased advertising that, business should have
increased to the present level. So now we can just bank everything as normal
for Paddy, I will keep the books going and authorise the outgoing payments.
It will be business as usual, all your jobs are safe, very safe in fact. I will
write those cheques now. Just pass me the list please. With his gold pen
and with scrupulous consideration he made out the requested cheques. Now
Norman I have decided to make an extra payment to you, call it a loyalty
payment re the Lenny factor. He handed over 500 in cash to Norman. I
will see Paddy gets his share also of course.
Eugene Binx
Chapter Twelve - What a Difference a Week Makes
This is awkward Mr. Patel.

I do not understand, Norman, a well deserved bonus surely and money
we need to loose after Paddies dealings. We will also now you see, be able
to pay you an increased salary.
Well maybe, but. Norman glanced at his salary cheque.
What is it Norman, we can only have one secret. No more.
Im afraid I have to leave here, move on, somethings come up, an
opportunity.
I understand that Norman, I arrived in England with only 5 you know.
But I do have an idea, perhaps a solution for you Mr. Patel.
Im listening.
Im sure Doc would love to take over from me as well as continue to run
the comedy. He would have Betsy to assist him, Patrick could become bar-
manager as he wants more work and Docs former partner Nigel returns this
week from a long holiday. Oh and Lenny could be your Head of Security,
part-time of course. You see I would not be missed at all Mr. Patel.
I know, you may be indispensable but never irreplaceable. When will
you want to leave?
My ship literally sails this Thursday.
Youre now going on a holiday!
No, I wish. Im going to work on a passenger cruiser
You call that work? I wish. You must arrange a meeting for me
Wednesday mid-day would be best. Please bring all those you mentioned,
do they know?
Not quite yet, Im working on it.
You guys really are comedians, please bring them all here Norman, no
need for Lenny to attend though, just ask him to turn up for work Thursday
night please.
Of course Mr. Patel.
Now I was going to feed you, but as you will be busy, well conclude our
business for today. I will however be pleased to entertain all of you on
Wednesday. A farewell lunch for you Norman. We will still meet up here
first though, goodbye then.
Mr. Patel placed all the takings and paperwork into his large briefcase.
Norman escorted him to the door; one of his large minders was waiting to
open the car door. Norman waved them off then poured a whisky to help
him face the rest of the day. He was pleased to receive a call from Doc
wanting news of Paddy and the future of the venue.
The news is great for you Doc and the others
All of us, what does that mean Zen.
Norman lit a cigarette, Funny you should ask me that; Im off mate.
Time to move on.
O.K. but tell me more.
Im going off on the cruise ship with Chris and Eddie, part of the
entertainment team.
O.K. tell me even more.
Well I have suggested to Mr. Patel that you take over as venue general
manager, Betsy to assist you, Patrick bar manager and Nigel would fit in
somewhere. So what do you think?
Aha, were only making plans for Nigel. When exactly do you sail,
Norman pray tell.
Thursday.
Thursday, I see. Does Betsy know? Because I guess the rest of us will be
cool with this news. Not that we wont miss you.
I will tell her today.
Good luck, hide all the sharp knives first. Ill talk to the others, call you
tomorrow.
Just one thing, Mr. Patel wishes to meet us all Wednesday mid-day at the
pub. Then take us all for the last supper; for me that is, at his restaurant.
O.K. the guys will be there, Ill leave the job of getting Betsy there with
you old sport.
Thanks, no problem as Rasta would say, see you Wednesday Doc.
Norman poured another scotch. Drunk was definitely the best way to
handle Betsy. He took his jacket off relaxed and wandered round the Two
Eugene Binx
Buttocks. Many memories entered his mind, then mixed in with the scotch
and were drowned. Now seated at the very table he had shared with Chris
and Eddie the previous night he struggled to imagine confronting Betsy with
his news. The scotch on optic was staring at him like a challenge that he rose
to. Soon it was empty as was his cigarette pack. Without success he fumbled
and even talked to the cigarette machine on his way out of the pub. The
effect of his jabs had now kicked in, only instinct got him to the nearest
mini-cab office. As a well-known regular he was accepted and well looked
after. At the apartment he struggled with the front door, having never been
this drunk in his life, he was relieved that Betsy was not at home as he was
now hallucinating. He dived at the bed; it was late afternoon the apartment
was dark enough for the escape he now needed.
Betsy returned to the apartment at 7 oclock. The chiming clock she had
inherited from her Grandmother struck out, this and the lights woke
Norman, his being fully clothed concerned Betsy. Norman stirred slowly,
searching his jacket for a pack of cigarettes. Betsy threw him a pack.
Coffee would be essential, he said in a gruff voice staggering off to the
toilet. On his return coffee was served. Betsy looked apprehensive. They sat
at the dining table in front of the opened balcony doors.
Phew, thanks I feel better, said Norman sipping coffee, I drank two
pints of water in the bathroom, but I still needed this. Mr. Patel is a bad
influence on me.
I doubt that dear, however Im sure you have an explanation.
Well funny you should ask me that, I do and I dont. Im leaving the Two
Buttocks. Taking a job with Eddie.
So youll be home late for dinner some nights, as Eddie works on a
friggin cruise ship.
Could be, several months late actually.
Youre dumping me Norman?
Not as such, look on it as promotion, if you like.
Promotion if I like, what the fuck does that mean Zen?
Well I have suggested to Mr. Patel you should become Assistant General
Manager.
And what am I now?
Assistant Pub Manager and you help Doc out with the entertainment as
well.
And who have you suggested to Mr. Patel he should make General
Manager?
Well Doc of course.
Well Doc of course, of course! Anything else?
Yes, Nigel will also work with Doc and Patrick can manage the bar.
I had a fucking nightmare like this once Norman, I ended up killing
somebody. I hope you packed your things before you got round to giving me
this news flash on my life.
Ill do it after one more coffee; what should I tell Mr. Patel, do you want
the job?
No! Fuck you Norman. Now its time for your news flash. Ive just
returned from our local estate agents. They will take over the letting and
management of this very desirable apartment. From this weekend it will
become a rented property and I can even leave my car here. So maybe I will
go on a cruise!
You know something I dont know you know?
Lots of things I would hope, but only two you need to know. One your
homeless.
I guess this is Instant Karma, do carry on though.
Two, you know when I came home yesterday, Chris was here. He was
feeling guilty and he told me he was trying to drag you off to sea, but he just
knows how you feel about me. So, he offered me a job, on the ship. Its
great Norman, we dont get to share a cabin but that makes it even spicier.
What do you say? Please be happy.
Sure I am. My head has been spinning thats why I got drunk today. This
is just perfect; Chris is one hell of a guy. I owe that dog, big time. So I dont
have to pack?
Course not, well not yet. We sail Thursday, its nearly Tuesday. Lets not
waist time honey. Betsy started to undress whilst she remained seated at the
table sipping her coffee and smoking, now naked from the waist up. Norman
was enjoying the moment as she stroked her breasts.
Theres nothing on the tele tonight, how about an early night. We got
two busy days if we got-to get out of this place, as the song goes.
Norman got up and walked off to the shower room. On his return Betsy
was in bed, she wrapped herself around him before his head hit the pillow as
if trying to prove a point. They made love in an unmemorable way, Betsy
Eugene Binx
soon fell asleep. Norman got up and dressed, he returned to the table,
pouring himself a large glass of red wine, lit a cigarette and settled down to
take stock of his life. With Betsy now snoring he reached for the phone.
Chris, is that you man?
Yes, Norman how goes it?
You ask me how goes it, Ive just found out that you have offered Betsy
a job on the ship because I couldnt be dragged away from her. How does it
go Chris?
I just thought when it came to the crunch, she would talk you out of it. So
I leant you a helping hand. Shes already got all the jabs man when she
travelled the world last year. Norman this fucking ship is like the Titanic
apart from it floats. Its enormous man, youd hardly ever see her, its like a
City on the sea. Trust me, besides shes a bit laddish Norman, shed soon
find someone else to shag, I wouldnt mind, no only joking. Besides I got
her a job as a food and beverage supervisor, she will have to work even
harder than the morons shes supervising. She will be exhausted Norman,
when shes off duty shell be sleeping. Now what do you say?
Try anything once I guess and shes as good as let the apartment now
anyway, Ive given in my notice at the Two Buttocks, Docs accepted my
job and I didnt have these jabs for fun, my arm aches.
Ill take that as a yes then Norman shall I? Now can I get back to
watching porno on the wide screen please?
I take it Eddies parents are out then.
Yeah Monday night, line dancing.
Whats line dancing? No-matter. Call me in the morning to confirm
Thursday.
Sure thing, relax Norman, go and shag Betsy while shes still got the
energy.
Norman sat back; relaxed, sighed and considered the red wine box, 3
litres aye, French suicide, what a way to go, its a challenge, He poured
another full glass, placed it on top of Betsys piano sat down and started to
play. Having had many years of piano lessons as a child he had no problem
bringing the instrument to life. The apartment was filled with music and
emotion, Norman listened and watched his hands as they seemed to move on
their own. Oh fucking hell, I wish I could sing, he shouted getting up and
pouring another large red wine and lighting a cigarette before slumping into
a sofa. How Betsy had ever slept through his concerto for two fingers he
would never know; however he thought if a wine box was a more attractive
proposition than your girlfriend, anything was possible in life. His eyes
blurred before he finished the drink and he fell into the deepest of sleep.
What the fuck is that, screamed Betsy as she heard Normans mobile
Peer Gynt ring-tone. Norman rushed round the apartment in a state of shock,
brought on by Betsys screams and was further confused by the darkness
and his fully clothed state. He tracked down his phone then the answer
button, Yeah, yeah, he muttered down the receiver.
Fucking hell Norman, are you on the job or what, is Betsy underneath
you as we speak? Is the scaffolding up mate?
Shush Chris, what is it man, when is it? Oh no.
Excuse me, you did say to phone you with times for Thursday yeah!
Yes, O.K. what time is?
Now! 8 oclock, to keep it easy we meet at eight on Thursday at
Southampton station.
Well be there, where ever Southampton is, go back to your porno
movies now, chow.
Betsy joined him on the sofa, Lets have an, us day. Our last full day here
together.
Sure, you could take me on a magical mystery tour. But first I need a
huge breakfast.
Youll have a healthy breakfast, go and have a shower, Ill cook.
Betsy cooked up scrambled eggs and beans served on brown toast her
favourite, followed by white toast and thick cut marmalade. Norman
produced a pot of strong coffee. Betsy insisted he have an orange juice first.
They enjoyed their meal together, finished off with the first shared cigarette
of the day. They were closer than they had been; with no more work to
consider at the Two Buttocks Norman felt his mind clear of lifes clutter.
Mid morning they wandered off under a sunny London sky into the bitter
cold streets that led to Tower Bridge. They crossed the Thames on Betsys
planned tour. She took Norman onto the Docklands railway and down to
Garden Island station. They then used the old wooden lift down to the tunnel
walk under the Thames to Greenwich. Betsy broke their silence.
We should have borrowed a couple of Docs kids, could have played
happy families.
Or unhappy families, replied Norman.
Better still.
Eugene Binx
They boarded the Cutty Sark. Some practice for Thursday Norman, I
thought.
Hardly.
Betsy soon got bored, dragging Norman off to the park and then into a
favourite Italian Restaurant of hers. Another meal already, he asked.
I know you found breakfast light, she replied, They do great snacks here
and red wine. The pair spent nearly two hours on their snack and bottle of
wine each. The restaurant was Quiet; the staff remembered Betsy from her
spell of living in the area.
Soon places like this will be lost forever, announced Betsy.
What do you mean?
Anti smoking legislation Norman, will kill off moments like this. She lit
another cigarette, deliberately blowing the smoke in the direction of the non-
smoking area. This World is so fucked up now. We are allowed to buy
cigarettes but not to smoke them, what the fuck are we supposed to do with
them. You can now get a bigger fine for smoking one than for taking drugs.
Perhaps thats the answer stop smoking 99% Taxed cigarettes and start
smoking 0% Taxed de-bush-man. Ive paid to educate other peoples kids
through smoking, I should have been in the New Years Honours List, not
most wanted list. Then drinking, we have to support the Drinks Industry,
Ernest, Katie, Lenny plus a million others, but we mustnt get pissed up as
we puke into the Chancellors brief case and behave badly or we get arrested.
Its the same with fucking cars, the Government wants us to buy them to
keep some trade agreement its made with some fucking country its scared
of and then not use them. They even need us to buy petrol at 99% Tax for
what, to fund wars to build the American Empire, so what are we suppose to
use this petrol for, they keep telling us we should only use Pubic Transport
no I dont mean Public. Maybe we should pour our booze down the sink fill
the empty bottles with petrol stick a fag in the top and sell them to football
hooligans. So what will be next?
Right now we got the great Junk food debate, we need to support the Fast
Food Industry, buying their food, but, yes, you got it, we mustnt eat it,
cause if we do and get fat it cost the Tax-Man to put us back together again,
with the Tax money from our, ciggies, booze, petrol and junk-food.
So soon youll light up a fag whilst youre pissed at a drive-in
McDonalds and the Police arrest you, up to your eyeballs in legal taxable
past-times. Then youll get locked up in a cell youre taxes are paying for
anyway and the following morning be ordered to pay fucking Court Costs
for the privilege of getting fined. Its just not a perfect World. Nigel doesnt
smoke, fucking nerd.
If thats the end of your Political Broadcast on behalf of the Betsy Party,
then lets go.
Betsy summoned the waiter, and then sent him packing with one of her
many credit cards, more than Norman knew existed. The waiter returned for
Betsys signature, Please get us a cab to Tower Bridge. He nodded.
Glad you know a short cut home, said Norman.
Weve done enough fresh air today.
Their cab driver tapped on the restaurant window, they shook hands with
all the staff on the way out. Norman was finding the scenery back to the
apartment a total contrast from the railway journey earlier. Now you can
see how the other half live in London Norman, not a pretty site, sighed a
cynical Betsy as they were driven through a vastly populated area its a
poverty trap.
Their cab soon rolled over the cobble stone courtyard stopping just
outside their front door. Inside the apartment temperature was up in the high
eighties. Betsy opened the balcony doors. Norman poured two large red
wines. They took a sofa each to sink into, but Betsy was soon hunting
through her video collection till she found one of her cherished tapes. She
put it on the big screen, Norman was intrigued.
Its Roman Polanskis Cul-de-sac, announced Betsy, look at that scene,
where do think its filmed? The North East of England, would you believe,
Lindisfarne. There, even I could meditate.
They settled down for the film. Neither spoke till it finished.
Norman exclaimed, That was fucking great, got any more.
Its time for my shagging now, you know what Zen says about sex?
He shook his head.
No me neither, lets find out. Ill sort you out a film for later if you really
want.
She switched off the screen and in the winter darkened afternoon she
undressed on her way to the shower. Norman followed, they washed each
other, dried off slightly and got into bed. After a very memorable sexual
encounter they both fell into an alcohol induced sleep. It was early evening
before Betsy woke up Norman. She was hunting for another video for him to
watch.
Eugene Binx
Heres a great one, she shouted, Orson Wells Mac Beth. She put it on,
providing a rather bizarre backdrop to their cosy evening in. They opened
lots of packet snacks and another bottle of wine.
I lent this tape to Doc once.
Did he like it?
Oh you know what a pratt Doc can be sometimes. He reckons
Shakespeare was just in the right place at the right time.
What Warwickshire.
I think he was just trying to be clever.
Well Im enjoying it.
Betsy smiled at him, pleased that their time together was working out so
well; she loved constant companionship in small doses and knowing a day
was long enough retreated to her bed for sleep before the film ended.
Norman watched it through till the end before waking her for sex, she
obliged and after they both fell together into deep sleep.
Its friggin Wednesday and you know what that means, we have a
mountain to climb today having left everything to the very last.
Yes dear, Ill get started on the breakfast, go and shower, dont forget to
scrub your dick
The pair were soon finishing off their usual breakfast at speed.
I got to get sorted out at the pub to hand over to Doc and Mr. Patel by
mid-day Betsy.
Off you go then, Ill not join you boys for lunch, got to sort this place out
for letting.
Im tempted to skip the lunch myself, must stay sober to say farewell to
Ernest and Katie.
Ill give that one a miss too, now off you go Norman and climb your
mountain.
Betsy sighed as she heard the apartment door slam. With her minimal
possessions she would be packed up by early afternoon in time for a courier
to take away her two storage boxes.
Norman was hard at work in the Two Buttocks as Doc arrived
proclaiming hed, Discovered a new act, Bill Poster, should be a good
replacement here for you Norm.
Good, just thought Id get the place cleaned up a bit and ready for your
Thursday Doc.
Thank you Norman always a gentleman. Let me help. But we must leave
some work for the others. What time will Betsy be here?
She isnt coming Doc.
Ill sack her, only joking.
Shes sacked herself Doc; shes coming on the cruise with me and the
lads.
Good job really, I can just imagine you two in the cruise-ship panto; no I
cant, yes I can. Nigel is expected any minute by the way.
Norman had gone through all the paperwork with Doc by the time the
others arrived. Mr. Patel gave a lecture to Doc, Nigel and Patrick on what he
expected from the new team as he called them. He concluded, So Betsy has
left thats a shame, a pretty girl, youll all have to work a little harder now
Im afraid. With the hand over completed. There was talk of lunch and
Norman reluctantly agreed to join the others after he had visited the
brewery. They all departed the Two Buttocks at the same time.
At the brewery Lenny welcomed Norman who explained he was leaving
the Country but that he had secured Lennys job at the Two Buttocks. In her
office Katie was pleased to see her nephew, soon they were joined by
Ernest, She dont normally let me up ere, said Ernest. Just look ow the
other half lives. They both insisted Norman keep his keys to the house as
they wished him the best of luck on his first cruise.
What shall I tell your parents, enquired Katie
Youll think of something, Auntie knows best, were his parting words.
Having stopped of on route at the house to collect Chris worldlies
Norman arrived at the restaurant in time for the main course.
Eugene Binx
Chapter Thirteen - No Free Lunches
Norman having said his farewells decided to relax and enjoy. He was
close to Doc and would miss him. Patrick was a mate also and if Nigel had
read the Zen book and hadnt had a breakdown, Norman might not have
done lots of things. So with his pockets full of the money from Mr. Patel this
was certainly great company to dine with. The meal ran well into the
afternoon. Soon the other lunchtime diners had gone back to work leaving
Mr. Patel to indulge his new staff and Norman.
Nigels medication mixed with strong lager loosened him up, People just
dont fucking get it, he announced, the reason Saddam Hussein
didnt want those fucking Weapons Inspectors in Iraq is because he did not
want his enemies to find out he did not have any Weapons of Mass
Destruction; it was so fucking obvious. He then changed topics with a
nervous twitch and amused all but their host with an account of how he kept
his sanity whilst staying with his parents, By inventing a new religion;
whilst visiting their local church which is now a Wetherspoons; where
somebody told him the World was flat. Following on from that revelation he
amazed even his fellow comedians as he explained how he had also applied
for various advertised jobs. Supplying a false name and address he would
write the weirdest things he could think up; then get a real buzz on the days
he calculated them being read. He had on one application in the health
section, under are you taking any medication, written Viagra.
After a few more examples of how Nigel had in fact lost his sanity, Mr.
Patel put the four men in one large taxi and waved them off. Norman was
first to be dropped off, there were many more handshakes and nearly tears,
Best wishes to Betsy, tell her to send us a card and you, shouted Patrick as
Norman waved them off. Doc and Nigel avoided eye contact with him as
they waved back.
Nigel still on a roll started to tell Doc and Patrick, Of his invention of the
alphabetically indexed photo album, Ladies urinal, radiator magnets and of
course their rejection by the powers that be.
Still comes in handy then Nigel, that Degree in arbitrary measurement,
concluded Doc.
Inside the apartment looked much different on Normans return. Betsy
had placed his enormous case up against a wall; it looked like a wardrobe on
wheels.
Thatll be about all that will fit in your cabin Norman.
Wheres your luggage then.

She pointed to a large hold-all next to the bed and her handbag. Thats
me Zen and my Walkman of course. We will need to eat take-a-ways tonight
Ive cleaned the cooking area.
Ill just have some of your left-overs, I went for that lunch.
And youre still sober?
We did more talking than drinking I guess.
Boys talk!
Mens talk actually.
Anyway youre home dear. How was Nigel?
How did you know Nigel was there?
Nigel miss a free meal, I dont think so.
He was fine, quiet, over you, I guess.
Doc told you then, thought he would.
Why not, avoids complications, the truth.
The truth aye, I doubt you got that. Well Im off for a huge shower, on,
my, own.
With Betsy out of the room Norman played the piano, very loudly. Maybe
I can do this on the cruise he considered, cocktail bar music. He played then
softly for a while before preparing a pot of coffee. Betsy returned, Norman
poured their drinks and even lit her up a cigarette.
I hope the frigging cruise isnt no-smoking, he said. Wed have to
jump ship. Betsy laughed, then sat down and played her piano. She was
brilliant and Norman was stunned as she rattled off some classics, old and
new.
I never knew you could.
Play so well.
Yes, play some more please.
No, I dont want to break a fingernail.
They spent the evening almost like condemned prisoners in a luxury cell.
Playing chess, till Norman gave up trying to win, watching the news channel
before they would leave such things behind them and very late some food
was delivered. After picking through dinner and emptying a red wine bottle
Eugene Binx
it was time to sleep. With the alarm clock set for 5.am sex was not even
considered. They both got up several times through the night; Norman
finished packing his case, Betsy checking round the apartment. In the end
they agreed to stay up for the rest of the night and Norman made his last pot
of strong coffee. Before the alarm sounded they were ready, just airing away
the last of the cigarette smoke with a wind blowing off the wharf tide.
Norman was surprised as Betsy announced it time to leave t 5.30 as he
was still expecting a taxi. He followed her outside. She slammed the front
door and double locked it.
Well this is it, keys please, she asked. I said Id post back a spare set
for my new tenants. The agent has his set.
Norman watched as she pushed his keys through the letterbox, Still no
taxi Betsy.
Ill give you a lift Norman, she replied, walking towards her car
parked in the courtyard.
A lift, now Im confused, I thought you were leaving the car.
You thought many things Zen, but thinking is not really knowing. Get
in.
Norman struggled to push his case and Chris carrier bags into the car,
then himself.
First Norman, you thought you could pass me over like an old employee
to a new boss, you probably thought it was handy with Nigel coming back.
He could take your side of the bed over; he preferred the other side actually.
But then a change of plan, alas your old school chum realises you may not
have the nerve to run away to sea, so tells me that you are as good as in love
with me so I will come and hold your hand up the fuckin gangway. Im
going hold your hand to the train and when you get off Chris can hold your
hand up the fucking gangway, not me. Im doing the dumping here
Norman.
Silence fell on their journey to Waterloo which was quick in the early
morning.
Here you are one railway station, announced Betsy in the coldest
possible tone.
Norman squeezed her hand and spoke gently, Thanks for, I trust youll
have a great life, Ill always remember us.
He closed the car door gently pulled his suitcase out of the hatchback, I
will always remember us, he repeated before dropping closed the last door
on their relationship.
Betsy drove away slowly at first, then faster when nearly out of his sight.
Norman would never know of the tears in her eyes and the pain in her heart
as she headed home. Neither of them knowing yet she had conceived on
Valentines Day.
At the first set of traffic lights she had to stop, looking down she noticed
under the dashboard, a book, a yellow post-it note on the cover read, Nigel
I never did finish this, but thanks for the loan, Norman.
As the London train eased to a halt in Southampton, Chris and Eddie were
waiting like excited teenagers for their friends. They spotted the lone figure
of Norman ambling towards them.
Have you forgotten something, asked Chris.
Yeah wheres Betsy? enquired Eddie.
Knew Id forgot something, replied Norman.
No not Betsy, my worldlies! exclaimed Chris.
They hurried off the platform laughing, in search of breakfast and all
swore to, To live happily ever after.
Betsy drove back towards Tower Bridge and her next life. Her car soon
rolled over the cobble stones in the courtyard; she parked up then re-entered
her apartment. She picked up the keys that lay inside the doorway and
laughed on her way through to opening the balcony doors, Thank fuck for
new days, she screamed, another chance to get it wrong, again. She
placed the Zen book beside the bed, and then quickly picked it up again
returning to the balcony only to toss it into the Thames. As she watched the
book floating off to the wharfs end with the post-it note flapping in the
wind like a sail, she felt cold and remembered Normans imminent voyage.
The door bell rang; she made her way thoughtfully over to the entry-
phone.
Delivery of storage boxes from Hampstead Madam.
Nigel, its been a long time, come on in.
THE END

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Chapter Two - The Natives are friendly ......................................................................11

Chapter Three - The opening of the Two Buttocks .....................................................20

Chapter Four - Xmas is for giving ...............................................................................27

Chapter Five - Three Comedians and a Funeral ..........................................................45

Chapter Six - Back to Work.........................................................................................56

Chapter Seven - The out of Towners ...........................................................................60

Chapter Eight - Valentines Day Fiasco ......................................................................74

Chapter Nine - Enter Mr. Patel Centre Stage...............................................................90

Chapter Eleven - Hello Sailor ....................................................................................114

Chapter Twelve - What a Difference a Week Makes ................................................137

Chapter Thirteen - No Free Lunches .........................................................................147

Chapter One - Auntie Knows Best

name change, so Norman Frank Junior Smith was reborn out of

Chapter Two - The Natives are friendly

Norman took this advice, followed by a generous helping of Katies stew

Chapter Three - The opening of the Two Buttocks

Chapter Four - Xmas is for giving

seamed stockings upwards. The lovely Marsha, announced Norman. She

offered a cheese salad or an omelette, they then complain how Vegetarians

Buttocks, shouted Katie, Norman laughed, they all laughed. Well,

Chapter Five - Three Comedians and a Funeral

They broke their journey to return to the scene of Docs attempt at

Ill fuck you anyway, she screamed.

Doc greeted them, Welcome to Her Majestys Prison Hampstead, the

Doc had provided their transport to the Micro-wave; an old minicab

Chapter Six - Back to Work

The cab hit the curb outside of The Micro-Wave.

at fucking work, theyre always at the theatre or the cinema or on a fucking

Chapter Seven - The out of Towners

Not really, but I am. Did Doc really make it big?

Friggin schools, she shouted, of course children should be taught about

We got a venue to get re-open on Valentines Day, or did we forget? And

Chapter Eight - Valentines Day Fiasco

Norman laughed, Not really.

looking home-made instrument, with built in amplifier and speaker. He

Chapter Nine - Enter Mr. Patel Centre Stage

Chapter Ten - Three Comedians and another Funeral, but

What car-park, Trace?

Chapter Eleven - Hello Sailor

Chris Mason, you fucking great tart, shouted Norman as he started

Doc just shrugged his shoulders, I dont care.

condition of course that it be a white one. Therefore now when I am away

some of you too. Or you can visit me on my web site, thats

You wish dog.

Of course, would I drop you in it? Its entertainment man.

But youre up for it?

he mumbled to himself, causing a passing couple to avoid eye contact with

Mind if I join you Eddie, asked Doc as he sat down.

Wembley Stadium, why knock it down? Oh yeah, I forgot, to build a new

A little hung-over, to be honest.

Chapter Twelve - What a Difference a Week Makes

This is awkward Mr. Patel.

Chapter Thirteen - No Free Lunches

Wheres your luggage then.

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