Re: Crusty's Comical Capers
Crustabel Extracts Revenge
(Goodness Gracious - Great Balls a-Fire!)
The door of the restaurant was opened for them and a little Indian waiter with a happy smile and wearing a colourful uniform greeted them.
"Good evening sir, good evening madam!"
"How do," said Crusty, "ar't alreet? Crusty's here an'e wants a treat!"
He tittered at his own poetry.
"Weer's that funny music coming from?"
Crustabel glared at the back of his head and thought to herself silently with a smirk.
"Ya will have a treat, don't you worry sunshine!"
They were shown to an immaculately laid table with a snow-white cloth and were each given a menu.
Crusty studied his with a frown. He'd never heard of any of these dishes before and didn't know what they tasted like. The only bits he understood were the words lamb, chicken, prawn, etc. Crustabel would have to translate yet again.
The waiter asked them if they'd like something to drink and Bel ordered them both a pint each and a bottle of wine for the meals. Well, Crusty was paying after all for once in his life!
"Bel? I don't know wot to order. I don't know wor'all these things mean!" he said, whingeing.
She knew he'd say that!!
She looked at him slyly. Poor Crusty was totally unaware that she'd brought him for his latest punishment. It was either this, or a good lamping! As it turned out, he told his Bel much later on that next time he'd prefer a pasting!
"I'll tell ya wot Crusty. Why don't ya let me order for ya. I've tried just about everything in an Indian restaurant an'a know wot ya likes. Trust me. I'll make sure ya get the best meal ya deserve! Ya like a bit o' chicken don't ya?"
"I do indeed. Okay Bel, anything ya say, I trust ya."
The waiter came back and Crustabel ordered eight poppadoms between them to start with and she placed the rest of the orders for herself and Crusty.
As the waiter was turning Bel stopped him.
"Oh an'a think ya'd better bring us a very large jug o' cold water an' a glass for my friend please! I've a feeling he may ger'a little bit thirsty later on!"
If ever I heard a loaded statement that was one, with knobs on, but Crusty didn't notice the sarcasm in her voice.
The poppadoms arrived within moments, all stacked up on a plate. Crusty watched Bel to see what she'd do.
She picked the top one off and put it on her side plate. Crusty did the same. Then, breaking it into pieces she spooned on some of the relishes that came with it and started feeding her face. Crusty followed suit and started tucking in.
"Mmmm. These big crisps are good Bel. I've never tasted owt like this before. Is all Indian food like this? Wot's it goin't cost Bel?"
"Stop thinking about how much it's goin't cost! I take it ya remembered to de-crud yer welded wallet so that ya can open both parts! It's usually stuck fast wi' lack o' use!"
"Yis Bel. I managed't ger'it open. I used me scissor jack on it and it worked a treat!"
"Good! Anyway, trust me Crusty, ya'll enjoy the meal. Indian food is very good. It is a bit on the spicy side but ya don't mind that do ya?"
Crusty shook his head while he crunched and had a slurp of beer.
Slobbering and guzzling he hadn't noticed that she'd said "trust me" twice already!
When they'd finished, the starters came. For herself Bel had ordered a prawn cocktail and for Crusty the sheik kebabs.
He studied them closely with one piggy little eye then picked up some of the garnish from the tops.
"Worra these funny lickle green things Bel?" he asked holding some between his fingers and squashing them.
"Chopped chillies. Be careful Crusty they're a bit hot."
She was trying very hard to stifle a laugh. He had a terrible habit of picking his food up in his fingers.
Although moist napkins were available Bel knew that Crusty wasn't a great one for washing his hands, and he didn't this time either after handling the chillies.
Crusty stabbed at the kebabs with his fork to make sure they were dead, totally ignoring the salad that accompanied them. That was rabbit food, according to him. He spooned some of the mint yoghurt on them first then tried a bit of the kebab.
"Mmmm! These are most tasteyful Bel! They're a lickle bit hotter and spicier than I thought they'd be but dee-lish all the same!"
"Good! I'm glad yer enjoying 'em lad!"
Now he'd got the poppadoms and starter over with he was beginning to get a taste for this Indian food. It was good, so he settled down, relaxed and started to enjoy.
Once they'd polished off the starters the main course was served and another pint each was delivered.
Crustabel's meal was a T-bone steak, chips, peas and gravy.
Crusty's was a chicken curry, naan bread and pilau rice!
"I thowt ya was 'avin' an Indian meal Bel. Wockle it cost, all this?" he wailed.
Ignoring his question yet again she replied.
"I am having an Indian meal. It's been prepared and cooked by an Indian chef so it must be an Indian meal!"
"I suppose so burra thought ya was havin' one o' these types of meals," he said pointing at the food on his plate.
"Now Crusty, don't start whining. Just ger'on wi' it but before ya start I'll give you a little bit of advice, being as ya've never etten Indian food before. Once ya start ayetin' don't stop. Keep gooin' an' ya'll be alreet."
He didn't know what she was talking about but he took her advice anyway. He started shovelling the highly spiced food into his mouth fork after fork after fork without actually taking a breath in between.
He stopped just for a moment to speak.
"This is Crusty's first Indian meal Bel and it's very good burra bit hot. Wot's it going to cost Bel?"
"Aye, an' it'll be yer bluddy last meal if I've owt to do wi' it ya little sod," she thought to herself again in silence.
After a couple of minutes and several mouthfuls of food his temperature started to soar. Bloody hell! He was hotter now than when he'd had double pneumonia a few years ago. He was pumping sweat. It must be up to a least 107 degrees by now and his blood pressure was off the scale! He couldn't take this any longer and he had to stop, just for a rest! That's when the fire in his mouth really, really started and he started to gasp.
Much to the alarm of the other customers he jumped to his feet, snatched the jug of water and, without bothering with the glass, started to pour the cold fluid down his throat.
Glug, glug, slurp, slurp, guzzle, guzzle.
He felt that the cold water was just making it worse so he stopped, still gasping. He couldn't get his breath and his lips had gone numb like at the dentist! He was bright red, you know, like the cartoon characters when they start going red at the toes and it creeps up the rest of their bodies then steam comes out of their ears and then their heads burst.
That was Crusty right now.
He drank so much of the water from the jug that he had to quickly dash to the loo for a pee. Very weak bladder has our Crusty! Of course, if you remember, he'd got squashed chillies on his fingers when he'd handled the kebabs.
He shouldn't have handled anything else until he'd washed them thoroughly first! His poor old crinkly crusticles didn't half cop it.
He unzipped and started foraging about playing hide and seek with Mister Floppy.
Aaaah, relief, luxury, ecstasy!
"Aaaarrgh!! Wot's 'appening? Wot's that burning?"
On making contact he started screaming like a man possessed of a thousand demons and there was only one other person that could hear him!
The poor bugger's eyes popped out on stalks and were streaming like mad. There was more sweat on his brow than on a furnace worker's back! The hot chilli on his fingers had made contact and had started to burn.
Everybody knows that you don't touch ANY sensitive part of the body when you've got chilli on your fingers. Eyes in particular, and most especially those parts, but Bel knew that Crusty wouldn't have known that.
What a punishment!
Of course she was right. Crusty didn't know that.
He whipped off his coat and wrenched the old blue jumper from his shoulders. Poor OBJ was just having a kip and wondered what the hell was happening, although it had noticed that Crusty was beginning to feel a little warm. That was why it had nodded off. It joined th'owd black jacket on the floor where Crusty had lobbed it.
With mad, streaming, popping out eyes, a bright red face and his eight strands of hair standing on end he looked like one of those monsters from a fifties American "B" grade horror movie.
Luckily, he was in a one-person toilet that had a little hand basin. Crusty hurriedly filled it to the top with cold water, then standing on the toilet, tried to lower his dangly bits in it but that didn't work, despite jumping up and down a few times.
Instead he draped himself over the toilet bowl facing the wall behind like he was riding a horse, but the bowl wasn't full enough.
In desperation he started scooping the water from the toilet into his hands and splashed it down his front, his pants round his ankles. (He had actually already used the toilet remember, and in true Crusty style hadn't bothered to flush it). He'd also cracked his shoulders on the walls a couple of times too when he'd been leaping about making an awful banging and splashing noise inside the cubicle, not to mention the screaming.
He didn't know that someone was waiting to go to the loo after him, and was outside listening to what was happening.
"Me bluddy crusticles!!"
he screamed loudly, still red in the face, and elsewhere by now!