Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

It's not really an outhouse she's shoved him in. It's more of an annexe to the house, like a little bungalow.

They'd spoil another couple, wouldn't they?

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

Another good read Mollie, he does get himself into bother doesn't he I liked his attempt at poety. Looks like he's going to be away from home for a long time and he'll probably be broke at the end of it all and will probably drive Bel around the bend

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

He does love his poetry and yes, there is another new punishment coming up for poor Crusty.

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

Mollie - are you having a little break? Missing my Crusty & Bel fix

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

I'm also missing them

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

Si' thi'! I just replied to this when the forum went down!

Sorry girls, I've been side-tracked for the last few nights, but I'll put the next chapter on now. Neh then, weer amma. Oh aye, Chapter 118 methunks!

Stand by for action!

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

118

Crusty Recites a Poem
(and Gets Poetic Justice!)

Two months and three thousand pounds later, Crusty's house was okay to move back into again, but it was still devoid of furniture, and he looked around him.

"Ya know summat Bel. I never gid it a thowt. I never thowt about having't buy all new carpets and furniture as well. I could do wi' a 60-Minute Makeover."

Sulk!

Wor’a bluddy shame!

"I'll buy ya a few odds and ends owd lad!"

"Ta Bel!" he beamed.

Crusty's tongue dropped out and he started grinning his head off again.

"We'll go to some second hand shops and see wot we can get for ya. Ya needs a new settee and some chairs. I've seen a lovely suite in a charity shop, and it were only ninety five quid! It looks brand new! It's good enough for't likes o' thee anyway! I'll buy that for ya, so we'll go and pay for it this week, then I'll get one o't lads to go for it and we can pur'it in one of me warehouses for't time being until we've gor’a nice carpet down for ya. Okay!"

"Yer proper good hearted you Bel, even if ya do paste me every now and again. I know I usually deserve it, burra don't know why ya keeps purrin up wi' me!"

"Neh don't start skryking again. I pur'up wi' ya because deep down I luvs ya."

She paused for a moment while he sat sniffling, then she lightly put her arm over his heaving shoulders then, just as quickly, whipped it away again when she realised he had th'owd black jacket on.

"Ya remembers ages ago owd lad, when ya were on yer way't save me in Blackpool, and ya crashed th'owd Larda. When I were told that ya'd de'ed that neet I broke me heart!"

He looked up at her in amazement.

"Did ya owd lass? I didn't know!"

"I know, 'cos I never told ya, bur'it's true lad. I know yer just a daft owd pigmy, but yer such a bluddy character tharram proper proud to know ya!"

He was beginning to get suspicious. He waited for her to deliver the punch line, or the punch, but it didn't come.

"Am going to try and be a better person from now on Bel. All these things keep happening to me an'a never seem't learn. Can ya buy brain cells from anywhere 'cos I think I've only getten one left and it's a proper lazy bugger!"

She burst out laughing.

"No lad, ya'll just have't make do wi't one ya've getten!"

"Pooh, wot's that stink?"

"Wot st .... oh that stink. Well, they allers say that monkeys smell their own muck first. Get to't lav and don't forget to flush it!"

"Reet owd lass!"

Within seconds he was back and sat down at the kitchen table with Bel. The only things they'd been able to salvage were the kitchen appliances and units when the rest of the house had been flooded.

"I've just bin thinking Bel!"

"Well ya've only getten that one brain cell, so don't go wasting it!"

"Aw Bel. Everybody in this street's gor’a nice front door only me. Canna have a new front door Bel?"

"No ya bluddy well can't. Get th'inside sorted first. Yer allers trying't keep up wi't bluddy Joneses!"

"I don't know anybody called Joneses Bel. Where do they live?"

"Shaddap!"

They sat quiet again for a few moments, but the earlier pong still lingered so Bel got up and opened the back door.

"Ya know summat lad, there's only you can manufacture such a bluddy pong!"

"I know. Can ya tell worrave bin aytein' Bel."

"Aye, ya've bin at some bluddy cabbage again!"

He tittered.

"Yer gerrin proper good at Spot the Fart, Bel! It's a belting game, an'a really enjoys playing it!"

"Hmmmmph! Ya could start yer own windmill goin' wi' all that bluddy wind thy passes. I bet ya could even run a bluddy generator on it for a month before it needed re-fuelling!"

"Neh theer's a thowt. I could save on gas and electricity!"

"Ya could save on gas, but not electricity!"

They both started snickering.

"Well owd lass, I don't know about you burram gerrin proper hungry. Shall I see wot's left in me cupboards?"

"NO! Leave it to me. Yer not to cook for me, remember?"

"Oh aye, I nearly forgot! So, worrava getten in then Bel?"

"Nor’a lot."

She brought two tins out of the cupboard.

"Which do ya want? Spaghetti Hoops or Alphabet Soup?"

"Er .... you choose Bel. I likes 'em both!"

She tipped the contents of both tins into two pans and lit the gas.

"Am sorry Bel!"

"Why, worrave ya done now!"

"Nowt. It's just tharram sorry for everything I've ever done wrong!"

"Don't be so bluddy daft. If ya hadn't've done all them daft things we wouldn't've had such a lot of fun, would we?"

"I hadn't thowt about that Bel, wi' nor'avin' much of a brain!"

"Don't worry about it."

"So, wot yer really saying then is, thar'if I don't do owt daft anymore, we'll nor'ava good giggle?"

Her eyes softened and she looked down fondly at the pathetic little pigmy.

"That's exactly worram saying owd lad. Neh then, let's get this etten and then we can go to them furniture shops and see wot we can get ya!"

"Great Bel. I've finished now. Just let me put me owd black jacket on again and then we're ready for the off!"

"Er, haven't ya gor'owt else ya can pur'on?"

"No Bel, all me clothes got spoiled in't flood an'all. I've only getten worram standing up in! I only managed't save a few things."

She sniffed up.

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

"I thowt there were a nasty smell again. Do you mean to tell me that ya've been wearing the same clothes for't last few months? Yer socks and yer underpants and everything?"

"Yis Bel!"

Bonk!


It took Crusty and Bel another month to re-establish his house into some kind of order. After purchasing his furniture, Bel got some decorators in to paint his living room and little hallway. The kitchen hadn't been that badly damaged and with a lick from the left over original paint used it was soon looking nice, and the back bedroom floor had been fixed as well where Bel had gone through. The stinking old threadbare carpet from his living room was hauled up and replaced with a nice new one with a jazzy pattern so it wouldn't show the muck. Crusty had sulked because he'd believed that, with a bit of a clean, his old one could be salvaged, and he could place his new furniture back over the holes again.

"Well canna not just have a nice bit o' lino instead. It's chepper than a carpet an' easier't keep clean?"

"No ya can't. Ya'll freeze to death wi' only lino on't floor. It wouldn't be so bad if ya had a wooden floor, bur'it'd cost about the same as a carpet and carpets are warmer, especially when yer gerrin on a bit!"

"Okay then Bel, a carpet it is."

When everything was in place Crusty stood in the middle of his once dingy living room, thumb in mouth and a big grin on his face.

"Dun't it look nice now Bel? It's a pity I've not still getten me knick-knacks, only that fire hose sucked a lor'of me stuff out."

"It were only a load of owd rubbish. Wot d'ya need knick-knacks for anyway? Ya've only got to keep cleaning 'em. Yer better off with the minimalist look."

"I suppose yer right there Bel. Hey! I've just had a great idea! Shall I have a house re-decorating party? I could invite all me mates!"

"Wot mates? Y'ave none, only me!"

"Oh aye, yer reet again as usual. Well, I could have a party just for you and me then. Wot d'ya say owd lass?"

Her eyes softened and her heart melted for about 0.2 seconds.

"Well, alright then lad. I don't see why not. Ya can have yer do on Saturday night. I'll come at about eight. Will ya have everything ready by then?"

"I will that owd lass! Plus, I'm goin't throw in a special surprise for ya as weel!"

Oh no! Now what?

"Like wot? Let me see. Yer goin't pur’a fresh pair o' knickers on for the occasion?"

"Well I will Bel, but that's nor'it!"

"Well don't bluddy-well cook anything!"

"I'll not!"

Of course, Bel had finished up paying for everything again, including replenishing his wardrobe, but she'd decided it was worth the few grand to get Crusty off her premises at the earliest possible opportunity, as he was in no rush whatsoever to leave his comfy digs. After the Pest Control people had finished fumigating his room, she'd stripped the bed of everything, including the mattress, and made a bonfire of it all.

Anyway, after he'd finished work at one on Saturday, Crusty threw his owd black jacket round his shoulders and tootled off, with his carrier bags full of booty. Because it was Saturday, any food that got left over at the cafe was to be thrown away, at Bel's specific instruction. Nothing was to be saved or frozen for Monday. This particular instruction was very handy for Crusty, because he was able to beg or secrete his stash and take it home with him and today his carrier bag was full of meat pies, meat and potato pies, fresh sausages and burgers, barm cakes, and some left over cold meats. He decided he'd keep the burgers and sausages for himself!

From the Loaf About he went into the nearby greengrocer, which had quite a few people in until they saw him coming, to buy some salad stuff for Bel .....

Yes, I said BUY! Well, he'd nicked everything else and Bel had paid for that!

Then he called at the off licence to buy some cans of beer and a nice bottle of wine.

As soon as he got home, he took a spin round his hall, living room and kitchen to make sure they still looked nice for his Bel, unpacked his carrier bags then whooshed upstairs and TOOK A SHOWER.

I'm not repeating that again, but he did clean round while he was up there and, by the time eight o'clock arrived, Crusty had prepared them some nice food for a change, brewed up and was just putting the milk in the cups when Bel arrived.

"Perfect timing as usual, Bel. I've just brewed. D'ya want t'ayte now or leave it a bit?"

"Can we leave it just for a little bit owd lad? I will have that brew though. I'm fair parched! I see ya've named yer house now thar'it's all back to normal!"

He started tittering again.

"Yeh, but ya cawn't gi' me a punch this time Bel, 'cos it's my house, not yours!"

He'd made himself a house name from a tatty old piece of wood, just like he'd done with Bel's a couple of months previously only Crusty's read:


They chatted for half an hour, and Crusty's Macaroni was playing some good tunes in the background. Thank goodness it hadn't sustained any water damage.

"Neh then lad, I'm ready for a bit o' scran now. Let's get to it!"

"Just a sec Bel. I promised ya a surprise if ya remembers. I'll just go an' ger'it!"

"Worisit?"

"Ya'll see in a minute. Don't start aytein' bowt me!"

"Hurry up then!"

He scurried off to his spare room where he spent a good few minutes rummaging. There was clattering and banging and the slamming of drawers and eventually, with a big grin on his face, he shouted downstairs with a grubby piece of paper in his mitts to the patiently waiting Bel.

"Bel, Bel, I've getten it!"

"Well keep it to thi'sell. I don't want to catch it!"

He zoomed back down stairs.

"Crusty's back so have no fear, and he's gor’a piece o' paper here!"

"How come ya likes yer poetry so much owd lad?"

He started tittering again.

"Why Bel? I think it comes from me mam, Mambo. She were proper good at poetry, and when we all left Mombongo she wrote one specially for me dad as a special thank you for givin' me to her. The poem's all about our trip o'er here, I think, from worra can understand, and it got wrote down for posterior! Am not really sure now, as it's a long while ago, burrave still getten it. D'ya want me't read it to ya?"

"Oh yes please owd lad. Let's see wot she had to say about ya!"

"Reet owd lass! I've getten it here si' thi'. Here goes!"

"Hang on! Are ya sure ya can read it properly. Ya know yer nor’a very good reader!"

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

"Oh I know Bel burrave read this so many times o'er't years I more or less know it off by heart. It's a good 'un this, bur'it is a long 'un! Are ya sure ya don't mind?"

"No lad, I'm doin' nowt else for't next century!"

"Okay then, here goes! Are ya ready?"

"Ger'on wi' it!"

A POEM
by Mambo Nibbleswick

Bel started tittering. She'd never put his mother's first and last names together before!

'Twas in the land they call Mombongo
Many years ago
Lived a pigmy named the Crusty
A smelly so and so

"That's me, Bel!" he beamed.

"Shurrup an' ger'on wi' it!"

He were just a lickle baby
When he were born that day
When Mambo went to pick him up
The tribe all heard her say;

"Wor’a bluddy ugly baby!
I'm nor'avin' any o' this.
It's got squinty lickle piggy eyes
I cawn't give thar'a kiss!

I couldn't bear to touch him
He'd drive me round the bend
With his squawkin, skrykin' an' whingin'
And the smell from his arse end!"

They were laughed at by their neighbours
So they packed their bags and left
They really couldn't stand the shame,
Of funds they were bereft.

They made a raft of palm leaves
And sailed away one day
In the distance they heard him squawking
And again they heard her say;

"I'll drehn this lickle bugger
If he doesn't shut his trap.
Hast sin the state o't gob on him
An' 'ave ya sin him crap?

You did all the damage
This is such a bluddy farce,
He'll pee up yer nose if you don't watch
SO YOU CAN CHANGE HIS ARSE!!"

Said poor old Egglentine to his wife
"No, no my dear not me!
I wanted us to have a girl
But they gave us this you see.

It seems that no one wanted him
Now isn't that a shame?
So I said that we'd take care of him
And Crusty would be his name!"

Her husband thought that she'd be pleased
By giving her this treat,
But that was only just before
They both could smell his feet.

It really wasn't Crusty's fault
She'd made his shoes from kippers,
To put upon his lickle feet
And wear them for his slippers.

"I'll shove him in this watter
He'll meet a watery grave,
Or I'll sling him o'er me shooder
Ler'im land upon a wave!

I'm only young and all I want
Is a lickle bit o' fun,"
And this is where Crusty's fear of water
Was said to have begun.

They came upon the Dougie
A river of toxic waste,
And just as she was pushing him in
Egglentine made great haste.

"You can't do that to him my dear
As drown, he probably might!"
"I don't give a sod oh Eggy my dear
'Cos he's only a lickle sh!te!"

And now its time to end this tale
A sad one to relate,
She and husband Egglentine
Had yet to meet their fate.

They'd sailed for months without much hope
They'd sailed with heavy heart,
There was nowhere to escape to
And the Crusty sure could fart.

Gassed into unconsciousness
They drifted into reeds,
And came to three months later
When they offered up some beads

To the Wiganners who had found them
And had compassion in their hearts,
But buggered off like a flock of birds
When they smelled poor Crusty's farts!

THE END!

"Neh then Bel. In't it nice that? Wot d'ya think about that Bel! It's a good 'un in't it? Bel, where've ya gone?"

Halfway through his poem Bel had started her silent braying. Tears rolled down her face, her fat jiggled away and her throat was constricted by trying to hold in the laughter, so she'd crawled behind the settee and stuffed a cushion in her mouth.

"I think me mam must've bin a bit fed up when she wrote that Bel! Bel where are ya owd girl?"

On hearing Crusty call her name yet again she crawled out from behind the couch on her hands and knees, cushion still stuffed in her mouth and her face red and puffy and dripping with tears of laughter.

"Worra ya doin' down theer owd lass? Wor'at skrykin' for? I know it's a proper emulshional poem in't it, but there's no need to cry owd lass. Am here now an'ave turned out alreet haven't I?"

Well that just made her worse. Her knees collapsed from under her and she started giggling and tittering, laughing and braying like an old donkey again, her right cheek firmly pressed into the carpet.

"There, there Bel. Don't cry for your Crusty. I'll tek care of ya owd lass!"

"Thee tek care o' ME? Ya can't tek care of yersell ne' mind ME!"

"Oh! I thowt ya was skrykin'. I didn't realise ya was tekkin't Mickey out o' me again, burra should've known better! Did ya not like me poem then?"

"It were a bluddy corker thar'owd lad. It deserves some kind o' recognition, bur'it's over sixty years old now. Ya wants to try an' ger'it published. It'll earn ya a bluddy fortune that!"

He looked a little doubtful.

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part three)

"D'ya think so Bel?"

"Oh aye. I can just picture somebody like Mike Harding reading thar'out!"

Once again he realised she was just making fun of him, so he went into a sulk and started hanching the spud pies down in great heaving gulps.

"Have ya heard from Soreen lately Bel? Boip!"

"Yis lad, she phoned me a couple o' days ago to see if ya'd gor'into owt else daft."

"Wot did ya tell her then?"

"Oh, only about finding you in a jail in Hamburg, our trip to Holland and you smokin' cannabis, and then our trip to Arkansas, then yer house being flooded out."

"Did ya tell her all about them Wild American Native persons as well Bel?"

"I did that. Her were in bluddy fits laughing and said it was the best twenty quid phone call she'd ever made!"

"I wish ya wouldn't tell her everything Bel. It shows me up!"

"Well now ya knows wor'it feels like!"

"I tell ya wot though Bel. It's a good job ya didn't marry me when I asked ya that time in't it?"

"In wot way?"

"Well I were still married so wouldn't it have made me a bigamist if I'd married you as well?"

"No lad, in your case it would've made ya a pigamist!"

"Oh aye, that's reet!"

"Well owd lad, it's been an interesting evening burrad best be making tracks!"

"Oh no, not yet Bel, ya cawn't. We haven't come to the entertainment bit yet! I've getten summat proper special lined up for ya!"

She looked at him suspiciously.

"Entertainment bit! Yer not goin't sing at me again are ya?"

"Well I was Bel, bur'it's a bit special 'cos I learned the words proper, plus another surprise. Please Bel, let me!"

"Go on then, but ger'it o'er and done with then I can get wom and tek a yed warch pill!"

He scuttled off to get something then, before he came back through the living room door, he called to her.

"Close yer eyes Bel. I want to serenade ya without ya glaring at me!"

She tutted but complied with his request.

Bel heard him re-enter the room and heard him thump down in his chair. All of a sudden there was the most horrendous sound she'd ever heard in her life, but she kept her eyes shut for fear of what she might see.

Twang, twang!

I am lonesome tonight
I am p!ssed me tonight

Twang!

An'am sorry I rifted a fart

Does yer memory stray
To that bright summer day
When you tripped and I called you a tart

Twang, twang!

She couldn't stand it any longer. She opened her eyes and had a peek at what he was doing.

"SHUT IT WILL YA. THA' SEHNDS BLUDDY WEEL!"

"Sorry Bel!"

In his hands he held a battered old banjo which only had two rusty strings and which he was attempting to get a tune out of.

Brrrrip!

Fluuurp!

Ooops!

"Sorry Bel."

"Sorry Crusty. I don't know where that came from. Must've been that food I've just etten!"

"It's okay Bel. There's nowt wrong wi' a fart, 'specially between pals. It shows that yer bits and pieces are working proper!"

"Well lad, I don't think ya could manage to play Duelling Banjos on thar'owd thing, but between the pair of us we could play duelling arseholes!"

Crusty snickered.

"I'll keep practising with me playing Bel!"

"Well ya'd best buy a new set o' strings for it then. It's supposed to have four nice steel ones, not two owd rusty 'uns!"

"Should it? How much do they cost? Ne' mind. I got this from't charity shop Bel. It were only two quid bur'it's okay, in't it?"

"As I said, it'd probably sound okay if it had a decent set o' strings on it and tuned up professionally, burrad like to ask ya a little favour owd lad!"

"Wot's that Bel?"

"Don't ever play it again when I'm within hearing distance, or I'll breyk it o'er thi' yed!"

"Okay Bel! I'd like't learn how't play a bit o' Noah's Ark on this."

"Noah's Ark? Wot d'ya mean Noah's Ark?"

"Ya know Bel, thar'owd decomposer from hundreds o' years ago. I think he wrote summat called Handles A-Fire!"

"Handel's Messiah, an' it were bluddy Handel that wrote that! I've never heard of a piece called Noah's Ark .... just a minute ya dim witted owd pot bellied pig. Ya don't happen to mean Mozart, do ya?"

"Oh aye, thackle be him. I'll learn how't play some Mozzert!"

"Yer bluddy hard work Crusty! Are ya sure yer deef in that ear? Are ya positive that ya don't have a long lost sausage stuffed down theer that ya hid and ya've forgetten about?"

"Dunno Bel. I'll have a dig later on and see worra can find!"

"In any case, ya can't play classical music like Mozart on a bluddy battered owd farty banjo. It seynds bluddy weel. That sort o' music's supposed be played by an orchestra with violins and pianos, not bluddy owd banjos!"

"Oh I see. I didn't know!"

Just then he bent down and started fiddling about in his boots again with his fingers.

"Worra ya doin' now?"

"Me feet are itchy again Bel, an' before ya say owt it's nor'only nast this time. I've getten some fungus between me toes!"

"Have ya owd lad? I didn't know ya'd started growin' yer own mushrooms. Get some picked for yer brekkie in't morning and let me know wot they taste like!"

"Get lost Bel. Yer allers laffin’ at me!"

"Shaddap y'owd wet lettuce. Can't ya take a joke?"

"Yeh bur'everybody makes a joke out o' me an' it's not fair. Am only a poor defenceless anink mule!"

"Thar’a bluddy mule alreet. Thar'as daft as a donkey!"

Poor donkeys!

"Any road up owd lad, I'll have to get wom now. Worra ya doin' tomorrer?"

"Nowt special Bel. Did ya enjoy me party?"

"Wot party - oh aye, that. Yis lad, it were very nice. Thank you for having me!"

"Canna come to your house tomorrer for me tea? I'll bring summat wi' me t'ayte for our afters if ya like!"

"Okay then lad. I'll see ya tomorrer, about four?"

"Reet Bel, four it is. I'll bake us a nice cake. Am gerrin good at that!"

She wavered for a moment then felt sorry for him again.

"Alright then but don't pur'owt daft in it!"

"I'll not, I promise!"

"See ya tomorrer!"

© Mollie M
28.07.03