Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

Yes Mollie, some are more funny than others. I wouldn't normally read anything funny but I do enjoy reading about Crusty. I reckon I would give it 8 out of 10 overall and some I would probably give 10 out of 10

Ooh wonder what he does to get her really angry, probably whilst they are on holiday

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

Thanks for your input lass. That's much appreciated.

Yes, I'm afraid the holiday which she has so carefully planned for him won't quite pan out as she expected. He gets something wrong - again!

I'm going to put the next two chapters on now as I want to move it on to something else as I might not be able to put any more on for a couple of days.

Let me know when you've caught up.

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

85

My Boy Lollipop!
(See Ya Later Alligator?)

Well, it seemed he was no worse off for his ordeal and life continued pretty much in the same old way as before.

A few weeks after he'd "shuffled off this mortal coil" and returned like the Phoenix rising out of the ashes, Bel had managed to secure yet another little job for him as a lollipop man at the local school, and that gave him one heavy duty problem as Crusty couldn't synchronise people crossing and the stopping of cars.

It all went pear-shaped on his very first day and, because of Crusty, the traffic had built up a tail-back of four miles. He'd been dashing about in the road trying to get the kids across, and now having the power to stop cars, trucks and all other vehicles having gone to his feeble head, the drivers had got so angry with him that they all got out of their cars and advanced on him mob-handed.

They'd leant out of their vehicles shaking their fists at him at first and calling him a few choice names, but he'd got to the point where he'd started sniggering and tittering at them, acting daft and lolloping about that they went into complete "over-drive".

He was scared half to death, so had run for his life straight down the road and into the Loaf About, still wearing his uniform, clutching at his lollipop for grim death, and once through the door had collapsed in a heap! He lay there for a while gasping and panting for breath and then he started wailing again.

Jim got Crusty back onto his feet and could see he was badly shaken.

"Are ya alreet owd lad only tha' looks a bit shook up?"

"Am alreet Jim. I'll be okay in a bit. I don't know worrave done wrong this time, but them drivers were proper nowty wi' me for summat!"

"Well is there owt I can get ya? A nice cup o' tea pr'aps?"

"I wouldn't mind a good brekkie as well Jim. I missed mine this morning," he lied through his teeth, patting his belly with a grin.

"Reet lad. Sit thi' down an' I'll cook thi' a bluddy beltin' breakfast. Calm yerself down and if ya still feels shaky when tha's etten, tha'd best go 'wom and have today off. Is it the Full Monty ya wants?"

"Ooh yes please! Thanks Jim. Yer a good boss!"

After that for the next half hour, every time the little bell jingled over the door Crusty leapt up a foot from his chair, but it was only the usual customers coming in.

Even Faggie, Aggie and Maggie left him alone after finding out about what had happened to him earlier.

Crusty's big breakfast was brought to him by Jim, and what a breakfast it was. It had everything on the plate and Crusty's greedy eyes lit up. He already had his knife and fork at the ready and, no sooner did the plate hit the table, than he abandoned the cutlery and dived in grabbing a big fat juicy pork sausage with his fingers and dipped it in his fried tomatoes.

"Gaaarrrrumph, mnyam, mnyam, sluuuurp!"

Faggie walked over to him and he flinched back thinking she was going to make fun of him again.

"Neh then lad. Wot's bin gerrin up to this time?"

He had a mouthful of bacon, egg, sausage and mushrooms, but he still managed to snort out an answer.

"Nowt, but nobody believes me! Grumph! They said I were a danger to traffic wor'ever that means!"

"Canna sit wi' ya for a few minutes? I'll not make fun of ya, I promise!"

"Aye, okay then. Wot d'ya want me for? Schnorrrt!"

Faggie grimaced, watching the faces he made whilst he was devouring the food greedily.

"Nowt special. Neh then lad have ya gor'owt planned for Christmas this year? It's not so far off now!"

"Yeh, my Bel's takin' me on a jaunt on't tenth o' December an' we'll be gone a month so I'll not see ya for a bit!"

"A month! Who's a lucky boy then? Your Bel must have a few bob stashed away as her's allers tekkin' ya on trips. Where is she taking you to this time?"

"Dunno, (gobble). She says she wants it to be a surprise, bur'it's somewhere near a place called Specific and we'll be at Specific for a week, then we're goin' somewhere else bur'er'll not tell me weer!"

"Specific? Never heerd of it! Well I hope ya have a nice time lad. We'll miss ya. Won't we girls?"

All of them gummy and toothless nodded their heads then carried on sucking their digestives. Faggie returned to her mates and they all got their heads together, whispering and tittering like the three old witches they were.

Crusty managed to do the rest of his shift then he plodded into the back, took off his pinny, put on his owd black jacket and said his goodbyes to the full time staff.

"See ya tomorrer everybody!"

"Yeh, see ya tomorrer Crusty. And don't ger'in any more mischief!"

"I'll try me bestest!"

When he got home he picked up the phone and dialled his Bel's number, but there was no reply, except for the answering machine. Presuming she must be at work he then dialled her mobile number, but only got an answering service on that as well, so he phoned her landline again and waited for the answering machine to kick in so he could leave a message.

"Hiya Bel. This is your Crusty a-caaaalling from his phone in his lickle hallway at 13 Bakewell Drive an' he's got to talk to ya as immediate as ya gets a-wom. It's muchly important so please ring soon. God's peed Bel!"

Bel listened to the pathetic message on her return.

"God's peed? The daft owd bugger! He means God speed! I'd love't hear him saying his prayers at neet. Makes ya wonder wor'other daft things he's said to Him!"

She dialled his number and it rang, and rang, and rang then, just as she was about to hang up the familiar voice answered.

"Hiya, this is Crusty's phone so this must be .........."

"Crusty shaddap! Neh wot d'ya want me for? I've just walked in from work an'a got yer message! Wor'ave ya been up to this time?"

He told her all about the people that had bullied him while he'd been lollipopping that morning and how much he'd been "frikkened" of them.

"Crusty doesn't want do that lickle job any more Bel. Is he a danger to traffic Bel?"

"Why? Who's said that?"

"Me, just now!"

"Ya daft sod! I meant who said that to you this morning?"

He told her his tale, embellishing here and there, and that was the last time Crusty ever lollipopped and his Bel took the pole back to wherever it was she'd got it from, along with his uniform.

After that Crusty begged Bel not to find him any more little jobs to go to. He was happy at the caff, despite the name calling, but he knew he could cope with that. She promised him faithfully that she'd never make him do anything he didn't want to do ever again as she was so thankful just to have him back.

Well, they do say that its better the devil you know, but they also say that familiarity breeds contempt, and Crusty could be very contemptible at times.

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

One week later, Crusty once more whizzed through the doors of the cafe and hurriedly threw his owd black jacket from his shoulders into the back room. It landed in its usual heap, which always resulted in a crumpled mess. He was always being derided by the staff and customers about his jacket, but he didn't let anything like that bother him.

Unfortunately though on this particular day, a nasty old tom cat had somehow managed to find its way through the open window to the room where they all put their belongings, and lifted its tail up on Crusty's jacket.

Nobody else's!

Bel had promised to meet him at one o'clock that day as she was taking him shopping for new clothes for the holiday.

What had happened was, Crusty had asked Bel what he should take with him on their next jaunt. As he'd no idea where they were going he needed his Bel to tell him what to pack. Warm weather clothes, cold weather clothes, fancy dress outfits, seaside outfits or what? Apparently, he needed them all, except for the fancy dress!

She still wouldn't tell him where she was taking him, but did tell him that there was nothing that he owned that was suitable for this particular trip, so she was going to buy him some new stuff.

At one o'clock exactly she came through the door, everyone totally aware of her awesome presence as she walked in.

Crustabel the Mighty!!

Not wanting to keep his Bel waiting he was just scuttling through the door, his owd black jacket half on and half off his shoulders.

"Hiya Bel! Am here. Am ready for ya to tek me shopping!"

As he moved through the closely positioned tables the people tucking in got a whiff of his jacket and they recoiled at the smell, but Crusty was oblivious to the pong as usual.

"Tha' needs peggin' up on a bluddy line and let fresh air get to ya, ya smelly owd sod!" shouted Maggie to his back.

The jacket, teamed up with the OBJ which he'd put on that morning, was unbelievable. The OBJ had been festering in his corner for nearly twelve months and he'd begun to think that Crusty didn't love him anymore, so had sunk into a deep depression. However, this morning being a little chilly, Crusty had popped his old mate over his head and taken him out for a breath of air.

The OBJ was delighted!

As he came nearer, Bel also recoiled with the stink. She slapped him one across the arm leaving a hand print on the skin through the jacket sleeve.

"Ouch. Worrava done now?" he wailed holding his arm.

"Tha' stinks!"

He sniffed up, his large hooter bobbing up and down.

"Yer right theer Bel. I must admit I do detect something that's not my usual aroma!"

"Aroma? You never smell bluddy aromatic. Ya allers stinks, but this time it's different!"

"Well, ne' mind eh? Let's ger'along to the shops shall we Bel? I want to see wot yer buying me!"

"I'm not goin' anywhere wi' you stinkin' like a bluddy owd pow cat!"

"Ya means a pole cat Bel!" he said correcting her.

She glared at him, bottom lip curled down, arms folded, tapping her feet.

"Don't bluddy contradict me ya nasty owd gobsh!te. Tha' stinks like a nasty owd pow cat! Wot d'ya stink of?"

"A nasty owd pow cat Bel!"

"Reet. C'mon and get wom. Yer gerrin changed before I tek ya anywhere. Get that bluddy OBJ off. Ya've not worn it for twelve months an'a can tell it's never been out of its corner. It's covered in dust!"

"Okay Bel, anything ya says!"

Poor OBJ started sulking again but cheered up at the thought that Bel might give him another long-awaited wash.

They got outside the cafe and Crusty scouted round for Bel's Volvo. Ah, there it was. He started walking towards it.

"Oi! Worra ya doin'?"

"Gerrin in yer car Bel so as we can go to Crusty's house for him to get changed!"

"Why d'ya sometimes talk about yerself in the third person?"

He looked around.

"There's only the two of us Bel. Where's the third person?"

"Forger'it. Ya can walk home while it's not so far. I'll meet ya outside yer house once ya've got changed. Yer not gerrin in my car stinking like that, and shove that bluddy jacket and OBJ into yer Crustamatic. I'll ger'em washed for ya when we get back!"

"Okay Bel!"

The OBJ beamed! Th'owd black jacket sulked!

Glumly he plodded off on his own in the newly fallen snow and ten minutes later he was putting the key into the lock of 13 Bakewell Drive. Bel had been waiting at the kerb for nine minutes with the engine running, keeping warm!

Crusty was frozzen!

She unwound her window as he reached the door.

"Oi you! Wot the bluddy hell d'ya call that thing at the front of yer house?"

He put his hands to his mouth and started tittering, eyes streaming at the memory.

"D'ya like it Bel. I made it last night 'cos I were bored and it did snow a lot last neet!"

"I know. It's bluddy cold today so make sure ya wrap yerself up warm. Ya could've done wi' that bluddy hat on that ya've pur'on its yed!"

"It's alreet Bel. I'll wrap up warm. Ya can count on me."

"Alreet then. Just as long as ya don't put yer bluddy Sherpa Tensing outfit on. Yer not walking round Wigan wi' me looking like that!"

"Okay Bel. No probs."

He went through the door and she sat in the warmth of her car studying his latest pathetic attempt at art.

A snowman!

It didn't take him long, and soon he scampered back out of the door wearing his owd brown jacket and the new old beigey this time, and jumped into the car with his Bel. He didn't smell any better though, as he hadn't bothered changing out of his owd brown trousers!

"Wor'ave ya stuck that carrot in its face for? It favvers bluddy Pinocchio!"

"Well it needed a nose Bel. Wor'else were I supposed't use?"

"Well all sorts, burram just surprised ya used perfectly good food when ya could've etten it."

"Well I found it on't street an'a don't know how't cook 'em anyway. I always buy mine in tins Bel, ya know that!"

"Yeh well. I must admit though Crusty, I can't tell wot ya've made the eyes out of. How did ya manage that? I can see they're not made out of coal or stones!"

He really hoped she wouldn't ask that.

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

"Come on lad, spit it out. Tell me how ya made his eyes. They're proper good them are!"

He really, really didn't want her to ask that question.

"Promise ya won't paste me if I tell ya?"

"Why would I paste ya for making a snowman's eyes?"

"Just promise!"

"Alreet, I promise, now wot did ya do?"

He took a deep breath.

"Well Bel. I made him at about two this morning. I couldn't sleep so I thowt I'd ger'up, get dressed and make meself a nice cup o' tea. That was when I noticed how much it were snowing. I've always loved the snow since we came to this country Bel as I don't think there's any such thing on't Sandwich Islands. At least I never saw any!"

"Wot did you do then?"

"Well when I'd finished I stuck his nose on an'a found thar'owd hat in a skip so I put thar'on him an' all to keep his lickle yed warm, bur'e looked funny wi' no eyes.

"I'm still waiting!"

"Well by then Bel I were brastin' for a pee an'a .....! Wot?"

"Don't tell me. Please don't tell me that ya peed eyes into him. Talk about p!ss holes in the bluddy snow! Ya nasty owd bugger and at the front as well! Wor'if somebody had seen ya?"

He was cringing as far away from her as he could on the passenger seat, but unable to escape her clutches.

"Bel, Bel, ya promised!"

"I'll give ya this much though owd lad. Yer aim's a lot better than it used't be! At one time ya couldn't pee straight in't lavvy bowl and that's big enough!"

His reptilian tongue dangled out again in a big grin.

"Yeh, I've been practising!"

She didn't ask him where. She didn't want to know.

"Reet lad. Let's be off now as we've wasted enough time. We'll get to town, park up and then I'll take ya to some nice clothing shops. I need a few bits and bats for meself as well, but there's always Saturday if we don't get everything today. We've another few days before we go on our holidays!"

"I wish ya'd tell me where we're goin' Bel. It's proper defrosting not knowing wot to tek!"

She rolled up her eyes.

"Frustrating, not defrosting! Don't worry about it lad. It's somewhere ya'll really like an'a promise ya'll be thrilled to bits when we get there! We're goin't get ya some nice shorts, and tee-shirts and trousers and stuff, okay? And some jumpers and cardies, alright lad?"

"Okay then!"

"Neh then lad. Tell me a bit more about the Sandwich Islands. I really enjoyed hearing about them the other week!"

"There's nowt else to tell Bel, honestly. I towd ya everything there is to know!"

"Well ya didn't tell me which island ya came from. Wot was the name of it?"

"Oh I see. Neh let me think. It's been a long while since I were theer!"

"I know but ya must remember where ya lived!"

"Oh I know! The actual island's name was .... er ....Mombongo, that were it. It's the licklest island in the group Bel."

"Mombongo! Wor'a bluddy stupid ...... Oh sorry Crusty, didn't mean that!"

"It's okay Bel. Now ya know why I don't ler'on when anybody asks me weer I'm from. They'd only laff at me an' call me names again."

Wor'a bluddy shame!

"Did they do any fishing or owt like that, if ya can remember?"

He couldn't remember if he could remember.

"Oh aye! Thinking about it, there was nowt else to do. The men went out in their coconut coracles every day wi' their nets and their spears and they'd fetch loads and loads back wi' 'em later on. Then the ladies of the tribe would gut them, clean 'em out and cook 'em on a spit o'er an open fire. It were beltin' that. It's funny Bel. I can remember lots o' things about when I were lickle, burra can never remember when I last had a wash!"

"That's 'cos ya don't do it often enough. Is there owt else ya can tell me?"

"Well, the men did the fishing, the women did the cooking and us lickle lads had to bring the fruits off the trees. I towd ya about the rituals didn't I? Well, after that we had to shimmy up every day and pick fresh bananas and oranges and limes and wor'ever else we could ger'our hands on."

"Wor'about coconuts?"

Bel was trying to find out as much as she possibly could about where he'd originated, but with Crusty being such hard work she was having a difficult time of it.

"Coconuts Bel?"

"Yeh, coconuts!"

"Oh aye well we needed coconuts Bel. Not just for the milk, but for their shells, 'cos we used them for drinking out of, eating out of and me mam even made me me first pair of shoes out o' coconuts! I sounded like a bluddy horse cloppin' about. T'other kids had soft shoes made from owd dead alligators that the Elders had killed, bur'I had to wear me coconuts! Most of the time I ended up running round wi' nowt on me feet though as me coconuts were round and weren't very comfy until me mam made me a new pair out o' some owd kippers. They were more like flip-flops though where I just shoved me feet in where their yeds had been, but they kept falling off me feet, and they didn't half pong Bel!"

She could feel a good bray coming on but managed to keep it inside. That's why he was always rocking on his ankles! He'd been used to having his feet in a ball shaped shoe!

"And how did she make yer coconut shoes lad?"

"Why! She'd get two practically the same size and cut out holes in them, then scoop everything out so that me lickle feet would fit in, but like I said, the bottoms weren't flat, they were rounded underneath! It made walking a bit difficult burra could rock along and get to where I were goin'. They were alreet once I got used to 'em!"

Bel's eyes had started watering again at the thought of him wearing these unusual kinds of footwear, but in deference to Crusty's feelings, she didn't burst out laughing this time.

"Everybody had alligator shoes and you only had a couple of owd coconuts an' a pair o' smelly kippers attached to yer smelly little feet? Wor'a bluddy shame! Reet lad, tha's waited sixty odd years, but today yer having a pair of alligator shoes as well! Wot d'ya think about thar'owd lad?"

"Oh thanks Bel. Trouble is, an'am not very good at these things, bur'aren't alligator and snakeskin and crocodile a lorra money't buy Bel?"

"Oh they don't come cheap lad, burram goin't spoil yer. When I thowt ya was dead I were so upset as I hadn't realised how much I care about ya. And, now that yer not dead, I don't think it'll do any harm to buy you a few expensive presents from time to time. I can afford it Crusty so why not?"

"Why not indeed Bel? Why not indeed?"

She gave him her biggest Rottweiler grin then drove off into town to take him on the shopping spree of his life.


© Mollie M
27.09.02

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

86

Sandals, Shirts, Socks
(and Sandwiches Perhaps!)

Bel finally managed to park in the multi storey on Mesnes Street. They'd had to go up to the very top because, being near Christmas, there were a lot of people shopping for the festive season.

She'd had trouble finding a space big enough to put the Volvo estate in, but once she'd straightened the car up and made sure she wasn't blocking anyone in, they got out and headed toward the lifts for the way down.

"No Bel, no! I don't want to ger'in that thing!"

"I didn't know ya were scared o' lifts owd lad! Wot's brought thar'about?"

"Oh I've never liked 'em Bel! Never liked 'em ever since me tung got stuck in't doors o' one when me mam took me shopping in Pendlebury's years ago when I were about twenty five! I were bein' naughty and I'd stuck me tung out at this big fat woman 'cos she couldn't manage to ger'in and the doors slammed on me tung!"

Her eyes filled up again at the picture she was drawing in her mind. From the outside of the lift it must have looked horrifying for people waiting on the other side to see this big greyish-green and pink snake-like thing sticking out and wriggling away trying to break free.

"Come on, ger'in and keep yer bluddy tung in yer yed!"

"No!"

He scuttled off again so Bel let him go galloping down the stairs and she got in the lift. When she got out at the bottom he was waiting for her trying to look cool, but his tongue was lolling out and dripping, giving the game away.

"Bluddy hell! Ya must've come down them stairs like yer arse were a-fire!"

"That's not funny Bel. It's not nice havin' yer arse on fire an' I should know!"

He got some very odd looks from passers by.

"Sorry lad. I'd forgotten about that time when yer backside were a-flame and ya nearly burned it to a crisp!"

They came out onto the main street to find throngs of people happily spending money they didn't have via credit cards, charge cards et cetera just for the sake of one day in the year, each trying to outdo the other. Bel had better things to do with her hard earned than that. She didn't believe in all this crass commercialism and Crusty was horrified by it.

He'd hated Christmas most of his adult life, but since he met his Bel and she'd made him enjoy it, he'd actually started to embrace the more spiritual side of it after Bel had explained to him what Christmas was originally in celebration of. He'd loved the story about that little baby Cheeses being born in a mangy bed and the three owd fettlers who'd gone to visit him taking him some pressies. He'd asked his Bel why that lady had had her baby in an owd cow-shed instead of going to the hospickal and Bel had gently explained it all to him.

Coming from a tribal background, Crusty's education had been somewhat limited but he enjoyed learning about different things in the western world, even though he had turned sixty-eight!

Remembering again when he was a young boy living at Gees Court, he recalled the more simple, heart-warming Christmases that his mother and father would treat him to in the early forties. He'd been given the same sort of present every year since he'd been old enough to sit up and take notice when he was about nine.

He loved his Christmas stocking each year. Well it wasn't actually a stocking, it was a pillowcase, but his mamma always said it was his Christmas stocking. It always contained a new penny in it right at the bottom which he would have to scrabble wildly for to retrieve, an apple and an orange, the annual new pair of socks which had to last him till the following Christmas, and a dozen cinders. He could always spend the penny on a pee or some sweeties and eat the apple and orange, and it never took him very long to get his socks all sweaty and mildewed so that he could throw last year's pair away.

For the life of him though he never did work out what he was supposed to do with the cinders, so he kept them all for about twelve years till he was twenty or so when he'd accumulated a big bag full, then he made a mountain out of them in his mother's living room, which hadn't gone down too well.

He'd only been trying to play Sir Edmund Hilary's who was preparing to embark on an expedition up a big hill somewhere in the not too distant future! He'd heard about it on the wireless.

He didn't get any more cinders after that!

One Christmas in particular when he was about eight, his father had invested in a radiogramme on which they could listen to the Light Programme, some other music stations, and tune into stories and plays. It would play records as well, if they'd had any! It was a fair sized Alba and, on that Christmas morning, once it had been unpacked from the large box and carefully arranged in its corner, Crusty was given his Christmas present.

He'd heard his dad remark to Mambo, "this'll do for our Crusty's present for him to play with" and Crusty eagerly awaited the special gift they'd got for him. That was when the dangling of the tongue and grinning all started, and when his daddy had spotted it he gave him a biff round the lug hole, resulting in the cauliflower ear we all now know and love.

Little Crusty played in that cardboard box happily for hours. He played choo choo trains in it. He played tanks and bus drivers and aircraft pilots, but his most favourite game was playing caravans and pretending he was on holiday. He'd got out his crayons and drawn windows and a door on it then, with the box turned upside down, he'd sit, play and sleep in there for days on end, only opening up when Mambo remembered she had him and brought him something to eat every now and again, and when he got desperate for a pee of course.

Yeh well. He was a very odd child so he was bound to grow up to be a very odd adult!

Listening to that radiogramme day in and day out Crusty's love of music was born and it wasn't long before he started his singing career which, unhappily for Crusty, didn't quite take off the way he'd planned. He'd wanted to be a singing star like that David Whitfield but sadly he sounded more like a box of bullfrogs so it was nipped in the bud at a very early stage.

He came out of his reverie just as Crustabel was dragging him into Burton's. As they entered, the four salesmen on duty looked him up and down and didn't try to hide their distaste. Nobody wanted to deal with him as they could see by his old brown jacket that it had some bird sh!t down the back and that he looked a little smelly and unkempt.

Someone shoved the junior salesman in the back on their approach and the poor lad had no choice but to deal with the big overpowering lady and the smelly little man.

"Good afternoon sir, madam. Can I be of assistance?"

"Ya most certainly can young man! I want ya't tog this smelly owd fart out wi' some of yer better stuff. We're off on holiday in a few days an'a want him to look posh!"

The young assistant's face drained. This was going to take ages. How was he going to make this nasty old sludge pump look posh? He knew he needed back-up and had to take advice from his more experienced colleagues so, smiling, he walked backwards away from them, wringing his hands, and went to a man who had a tape measure around his neck to explain what was required. All four salesmen then very cautiously gathered around the Crusty at a safe distance looking totally perplexed and scratching their heads, not knowing where to start.

Mister Tape Measure then assumed an ingratiating smile, came over and stopped five feet away. He was very tall and had a shiny, pink, bald, head which was as bright as a belisha beacon and had just a thin rim of white hair around it. His face looked like it had been scrubbed pink with a scouring pad and his white false teeth gleamed like a row of tombstones on Boot Hill!

And he was thin. He was so painfully thin. He looked like a chalk line!

He beamed at them with bright blue eyes through gold-rimmed bifocals and circumnavigated the Crusty with his hands behind his back.

"So sir requires a completely new look?"

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

"Yeh! I'm sick o' seein' him in't same owd muck-bags. He always looks like he's sh!tten in 'em!"

"Ahem! Er, yes. Quite so, madam! Perhaps sir is wearing the wrong size!"

Crusty stood quietly listening to what was being said about him.

Sniff, sniff!

"Er, excuse me for asking sir. But what is that funny smell?"

Bending down, Crusty fumbled about in his turn-ups and brought his sausages out, then removed his lucky kipper from his coat pocket.

"These'll be woritis that ya can smell owd fettler. Have ya gor'a drawer I can pur'em in until we've done? It's me sausages and me lucky kipper!"

Bel blushed with embarrassment and snatched them off him.

"Have ya gor'a plastic bag lad. I'll wrap 'em up and throw 'em away. I'm sorry about this!"

"But Bel, I need them!"

"Bog off!"

The salesman had lost his pink glow and it had been replaced with a mild greyish tinge. He turned around heaving, but managed to hand Bel a thin carrier bag into which the offensive objects were placed. She tied it up at the top then nipped outside and deposited it in a litterbin.

"I thowt ya only kept yer lucky kipper in th'owd black jacket! Wot's it doin' in that festerin' owd bird sh!tty jacket?"

"Sorry Bel. I just transferred it across when ya made me change out o' me owd black jacket 'cos that cat had peed on it!"

The salesman's colour was now deepening and he was beginning to resemble the Jolly Green Giant around the face.

"Does sir have any more rotting food upon his person?" enquired the poor chap, who by now was expecting absolutely anything.

"No lad. That's it. Ya can start now. Worisit ya want to do at me?"

"Please raise your arms sir. I'd like to take your chest measurement!"

Crusty's tongue flopped out and he gave a wink and a grin to his Bel whilst the salesman whipped the tape measure from around his neck and approached Crusty, just as he was raising his arms. He only managed two steps forward then he took four steps backwards, grimacing.

"I thought sir said that he had no more rotting food upon his person!"

"I've not! Oh, hang on a minute. I'd forgetten about these bluddy things! Look at wor'ave gor'ere Bel. We can ayte these later!"

From the shoulders of his jacket he removed two badly wrapped barm cakes and handed them to Bel, which she took from him between index finger and thumb, a look of disgust clearly written upon her face.

"When did ya stash these in THAT jacket ya festerin' owd fart bag? You only usually put yer barms in the shoulders of yer owd BLACK jacket for shoulder pads!"

"About a week or two ago Bel. I think that's the last time I wore this jacket. They're alreet! Boiled ham and piccalilli with cheyse and tomato and some strawberry jam!"

All the salesmen were beginning to thank their lucky stars that he hadn't come wearing th'owd black jacket, but the other three salesmen not dealing with Crusty fell about in a heap at the back, tittering away in a corner of the shop. They had never in their entire lives ever encountered such a couple, especially a lady who called her husband/friend a festerin' owd fart bag! She was so big and he a timid, smelly little chimp-like creature. They thought Crusty and Bel were brilliant and their stomachs were aching from laughing so much!

She made a second visit to the outside litterbin.

"Reet. Come on Crusty, let's go or we'll be here all bluddy day! Hast getten owt else stashed away?"

He shook his head and stuck his thumb in his mouth with a grin.

The salesman then made a third attempt to approach Crusty, but he was heart sick from the stench of the rotting food and he'd copped a whiff of his armpits as well.

"Gimme that bluddy tape measure here ya soft sod. I'll measure him or we'll be here till NEXT bluddy Christmas!!"

Crusty started tittering as the salesman slithered off to the toilets to be sick and once again the others shoved the poor junior out onto the shop floor.

"Don't tickle me Bel. Ya knows am ticklish!"

She took her trusty Crusty peg from her bag and placed it on her nose. The other salesmen at the back were watching her and they were rolling over and bent double by now with laughter. One of them had a stitch in his side. It was the best day they'd ever had since they started working there.

"Get yer arms up ya bluddy owd smelly sod!"

Crusty obediently did as he was told and Bel shouted the measurements across to the far side of the room where Crusty's pink assistant had, by now, re-joined the others dabbing delicately at his mouth with a tissue.
One of them wrote the details down on a pad.

"Chest 34 inches! Left arm - shoulder to wrist 42 inches!"

"Are ya sure about that missus? That's three foot six!"

"Yes, it's right. Right arm - shoulder to wrist 45 inches!"

"Positive?"

"Yes positive. Left shoulder seven inches. Right shoulder 15 inches!"

"Are ya positive?"

"Yes. Scummy neck size 18 inches."

Snicker, giggle, chortle!

"Length of base of scummy neck to non-existent waist 26 inches! Bally size 46 inches!"

The thin pink man that had had the tape measure piped up snickering.

"My, my! Sir does have a rather over-sized girth doesn't he?"

Bel heard him and retaliated in her usual sweet, gentle fashion.

"Well thy's made a bluddy miraculous recovery! At least he's getten summat to ger'owd of and nor'a skinny little sewer rat like thee! Ya needs a few good Sunday dinners down yer throat. I've seen more bluddy meyt on a tape worm than there is on you, neh let's ger'on!"

That had taken the smirk of their faces.

"Hip size 40 inches!"

Bel took a moment, then sucked in a massive lungful of air.

"Reet! Howld up a bit while I ger'on't floor!"

She got down on her knees to measure his trousers, but even the peg couldn't keep the smell of his knickers at bay so, with eyes watering, she measured his outside leg.

"26 inches!"

Then, this was the bit that she and the salesmen had been dreading most of all.

"Inside leg 21 inches."

Paaar-rup!

"Phew, wor'a bluddy pong!"

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

She punched him in the crusticles and he doubled up, tears spurting out of his eyes. It was a fair bet that he had his favourite knickers, Good Old Stinky on again today, making a record of at least twenty-two days without changing.

"Sorry about that Bel. Are ya alreet? It bubbled reet down me knicker leg that one!"

"Stop bluddy well showing me up!"

She'd called all these measurements out to the back of the shop and they were having a whale of time. Nobody had measurements like those so they knew she must have done it wrong but, nevertheless, they chose some clothing in those approximate sizes as best they could for the Crusty to try on, giggling their heads off.

One of them even commented that"A bluddy orang-utan would have better measurements than him! Look at the length of his bluddy arms! His bluddy knuckles are scrapin' on't carpet!"

They'd picked out some lovely clothes for him, in accordance with Bel's approximate measurements and instructions. Slacks, shorts, tee shirts, short sleeved shirts all in bright colours, woolly pullies, more new knickers and more new socks. They couldn't believe they actually fitted and that Bel had got the measurements correct after all. It would have been a tailor's nightmare though to even attempt to make a nice suit for him! Even a Saville Row expert would have a problem with Crusty.

The salesmen were elated with the large order she was purchasing and, just as they thought they were getting rid of them, she shoved Crusty into a chair then she turned and stared at their happy smiling faces as they were waving bye bye in anticipation of them leaving, and felt great sympathy for them.

"Neh then lads, which one of ya's brave enough to try him some shoes on his festerin' stinkin' feet? They'll be wet through and they'll stink like buggery bur'e needs new shoes. I'll give a little bonus to whoever teks him on!"

They all fled in terror, except for the junior salesman who wasn't quite quick enough due to lack of experience, and whom they'd left standing alone.

"Good lad! Come on then. He takes a seven when his feet are clean. Wot size shoes have ya gor'on today Crusty?"

"Seven an' a half Bel!"

She gave him a pelt.

"Sorry lad! D'ya want to borrow me peg?"

"Yus please missus!" the salesman answered miserably.

He scurried about getting different shoes for Crusty to try on then came back and knelt before him, just as that other hapless salesman in London had done some years back. Ever since then Bel had made a point of carrying a peg in her handbag, just in case it was ever needed.

"Here y'are lad. Get this on before he takes his shoes off or he'll gas ya!"

She placed the peg carefully and expertly on the end of his nose, nipping the nostrils together and the young lad gasped in air through his mouth. He had no idea he was going to have to put up with this sort of clientele. All he'd wanted to do was work in a man's clothes shop so he could get cheap gear and deal with the younger end of the market. Nobody had warned him about anything like this. His colleagues at the back of the room were having such a jolly time seeing the poor lad in so much discomfort. That's what juniors were for!

"Ya'll be alreet now lad! If ya moves swiftly it'll be all over with in no time at all!"

The other three salesmen had come and stuck their noses around the curtain, which separated the shop from their rest room at the back, and six watery eyes were watching the scene with merriment.

Crusty's right shoe came off and the lad placed a new shoe on encasing the nearly white woolly sweaty sock, which was indeed wet through and full of holes. Although the peg on his nose was preventing him from being gassed from the festering pong, he could actually taste the stink in his mouth and tried not to bother breathing at all for the time being. He looked up pleading with his eyes to the others, but they were all falling over each other laughing their heads off. They weren't laughing for long though as the smell from his sweaty feet enveloped the shop like a noxious gaseous emission from a nuclear waste plant.

"Do me feet stink Bel?" asked Crusty.

"Wot do you reckon? Yer bluddy socks are stuck on wi' nast. When's the last time ya scraped yer socks off yer scummy feet wi' that wallpaper scraper I got for ya specially?"

"Er. Dunno Bel. Should I have changed me socks before coming out?"

"Ya should've changed everything, ya smelly arsed owd fart-face!"

The other three salesmen doubled over laughing again.

Bel was trying to stay manly by only breathing when she needed to. She'd forgotten to bring her gas mask with her and she only had the one peg in her bag, so decided that in future she'd carry half a dozen with her when she had Crusty in tow so she could hand them round in a crisis.

Meanwhile, Crusty was enjoying all the attention.

"Reet lad. We'll take that pair o' brown sandals thar'e's just had on and thar'other pair o' soft leather flip-flops as well, in black. We'd best have one o' them pairs o' furry boots as well bur'in a seven and a half so he can wear two pairs of sweaty socks inside 'em to keep his little feet warm. Plus, he can have one o' them pairs o' brown and white spats! He'll look a proper dandy in them. Lastly, have ya gor'any alligator shoes thar'e can try on?"

Spats?

Crusty's eyes lit up again.

"Alligator? Yes we do madam, but they are very expensive. Are you sure you want his feet in alligator shoes?"

"Most certainly! He nearly gor'is bluddy yed bitten off by an owd croc when he were a little lad, so it's his way of gerrin back at 'em. Now don't forget lad. Sevens!"

"Bel! Weer are ya tekkin' me so as I'll need sandals and furry boots. And ya've getten me woolly jumpers and shorts. Yer not tekkin' me to't North Pole and Spain are ya Bel?"

"Shurrup an' stop whingeing ya soft owd sod! Of course I'm not! I'm just covering all possibilities, that's all."

The salesman, still with the peg on his nose, had gladly escaped for a few minutes in search of the latest shoe requirements and found what he was looking for. He placed them on Crusty's feet and asked him to stand and walk about in them. Crusty felt like he was standing on air and bounded around the shop floor in a little dance then he started singing again. He'd suddenly remembered the song by Jimmy Nail:

Crocodile shoo - oo - oos
Crocodile shoo - oo - oos

"Belt up Crusty! This is no time for singing. How do them shoes feel on yer nasty owd feet?"

"Bluddy beltin' these Bel. Canna have 'em?"

"Aye. Ger'em wrapped up lad an'a can pay ya and then we'll be on our way!"

The lad had never moved as fast in his life and he had everything parcelled up in record time.

"Reet lad! Wot does it all come to, that little lot?"

The lad blanched as he totted up the bill.

"That'll be one thousand three hundred and forty two pounds seventy five pence madam! Is there anything else we can get you today?"

"How much bluddy more d'ya want out o' me? In't thar'enough for one day's shopping?"

"Yes of course madam. How would madam like to pay?"

"Wi' money, wor'else? I can't imagine that ya'd want me body as payment would ya?"

"Ha, ha! Very good madam. Is it credit card, charge card, debit card .... ?"

Sarcastically Bel looked down into her handbag and seemed totally distraught.

"Oh I can't believe it! This isn't possible! Wor'a daft owd biddy I am!"

The young lad thought for just one moment that he was dealing with a con artist until Bel dragged out a massive wad of notes.

"Will ya accept cash instead lad? I seem to have run out o' credit cards!!"

"Oh, ha, ha! That was very witty madam. Yes, cash will do nicely. Thank you so much! Do call again! Er ..... should madam be walking around with a large amount of money like that? You could get mugged!"

"Can you see ANYBODY daring to mug me?"

He looked up at her full five foot eleven and estimated she was at least nineteen stones, with a face like a bag of cement.

"Thinking about it madam, no. I don't suppose they would. See you again sometime perhaps?"

"In about twenty years!" he thought behind their backs.

The others were kicking themselves. They were all working on a ten percent bonus scheme for everything they sold for cash as individuals, and the new kid had just got himself over one hundred pounds in the space of an hour or so for the sale, and Bel had shoved in an extra thirty quid for dealing with Crusty's feet!

Nice little Christmas present. Lucky sod, they thought!

Luck had nothing to do with it though. Anyone that had to get so close to Crusty and his feet, and deal with him more than deserved it.

When they'd finished their shopping Bel took Crusty to one of their favourite cafes and, as it was late afternoon, they just had tea and a dozen sandwiches each for a snack. Bel wouldn't let him have anything else because she'd planned making them a big pan of lobbies when she got him back.

With this, he was perfectly content. He knew his Bel made the most tasteyful lobbies he'd ever had and he had his surprise jaunt to look forward to.


© Mollie M
03.10.02

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

Am up to date Mollie, read them both last night!!

Loved how Crusty made the snowman's eyes!! Ah and could just see him playing in the little cardboard box when he was likkle

Re: Crusty's Comical Capers (part two )

Yep, I've just caught up too

First he died ..... then he didn't, giving Bel a 'nice' shock Can just picture him wobbling around in coconut shoes and that poor salesman having to deal with Crusty's feet.....ewwwww

Just brilliant Mollie and like Marian, the laughter scale is mostly 10/10 For those chapters less humorous, that produce a few titters, would give 8/10