Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
“So here we are.”
“Yep.”
“Hang on.”
“There we go.”
“Oooooh!”
“OOOOOOH!”
“OH WOW! OH WOMAN, WOOOOW!”
“Crikey hun! You weren’t that good ten years ago!”
“YeAH aNd thIs feNCe wAsNt EleCtrifIeD TEN YeaRs AgOOoo!”
“Ack…”
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“That took some explaining,” laughed Saturn. “Hey look at that! They’ve done some work on the beer garden out back.”
“Yeah, that’s where we first did the business,” grinned Jessie.
“Yep, up against the fence at the back,” said Saturn. “Say. Wanna have a go there again. For old times sake.”
“Sure,” said Jessie. “I’m up for some beer garden nookies!”
“Hey, at least they replaced the rickety old wooden fence with a metal one,” said Saturn. “The splinters I got last time were a planetary pain in the arse!”
“Ah, yes,” laughed Jessie. “I remember you asking on a web forum about the best ways of removing wood splinters from your bum.”
“Yep,” grumbled Saturn. “Bad post…”
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“I always thought our second time together was better,” said Jessie. “Though that phone call we got afterwards was a funny one.”
“The woman who phoned me up screaming about what a dirty girl you were,” laughed Saturn. “How you’d split up her relationship by tempting her partner into bed…”
“I remember,” laughed Jessie. “I said ‘Hey you listen here! If the problem you have with your partner is so bad, you should tell them that!'”
“Yeah,” groaned Saturn. “Then you handed the phone to me…”
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“Ah, this place,” said Saturn.
“Yeah I thought you’d recognise it,” said Jessie.
“Our first night when we…” trailed off Saturn.
“Yeah,” grinned Jessie.
“Good call for a date,” said Saturn. “I was only in here the other day.”
“Same,” said Jessie. “I met Fuen and Yuffie here.”
“Odd there’s nobody here,” observed Saturn.
“It’s like the parrot themed club we visited that had no parrots in,” remarked Jessie.
“Yes,” recalled Saturn. “Pollygone.”
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“Do you fancy knocking off early, Reala?” asked Yuffie.
“Nothing’s going on here,” she replied.
“We’re gonna go watch the pigeon races, have a little flutter,” said Fuen.
“Ah, good,” said Reala, putting on her coat. “My aunt used to race pigeons.”
“Really?” asked Yuffie.
“Yeah,” said Reala. “I don’t know why. She never beat them.”
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“Here,” said Fuen. “Let me see that.”
Yuffie handed over her laptop. Fuen began tinkering.
“What’s the problem?” asked Reala.
“My laptop won’t take my password,” sighed Yuffie.
“What’s your password?” asked Fuen.
“Beefstew,” replied Yuffie.
“It’s probably not stroganoff,” pointed out Reala.
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Yuffie walked in trailing white paint behind her.
“Yuffie!” gasped Reala, putting newspaper down on the floor around her.
“Oh sorry,” said Yuffie. “I thought I’d give fingerpainting a go this morning.”
“How did that go?” grumbled Reala, reaching for the mop.
“Awful,” sighed Yuffie. “Took me eight hours to do the skirting boards.”
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“How’s your afternoon going?” asked Fuen.
“Not bad,” said Reala. “I think I have invented a new flavour of crisps.”
“Oh really?” asked Fuen.
“Yep,” replied Reala, holding out some hot dog flavoured crisps. “Combining British crisps with an American flavour.”
“Nice,” said Fuen. “If they’re popular you’re gonna make a packet.”
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Fuen stormed through the doors.
“Oh dear,” said Reala, “need rum?”
“Yes please,” said Fuen. “Make it a double.”
“What’s up?” asked Reala.
“The chicklets,” sighed Fuen. “You know they said I was old and out of touch because I didn’t know who Professor Green was.”
“Ah,” replied Reala, sliding Fuen a drink.
“Little gits,” moaned Fuen. “Of course I know who he is. I’ve been playing Cluedo for years.”
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“Oh, heck no,” shouted Reala. “We do not serve time travellers in here!”
Just then, a time traveller walked into the bar.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said, “could I have a drink.”
Reala caught her breath.
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Little Fears 