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Susan stopped reading and addressed the other 4 members of the Thursday Book Club. "As you can see, the book is very engrossing and has the ability to envolve those reading it into the story. I was reading it a while back and was killed. It hurt a bit but I'm better now. Sometime I think that the author is a bit schizophrenic because of the way the plot changes course."
Rachael, the blonde in the group with huge gazungas, piped up and said "...
... Can anyone tell me what to do with this bag of gazungas? I bought them from a Jewish deli down the road but I don't have any recipes."
Susan replied "...
...I don't know either, stuff them up your jumper to keep them warm untill....
they ripen."
Lisa said "My Dad used to make gazungas mashed with yarbles. He made a lovely sauce out of ...
... the remains of a discarded fondue. So there's half a chance he may ...
a roue (sp) of flour and water to which he'd add milk. He used to love making it with Bernaise, who was a French maid that we used to employ.
Sometimes, just quitely, I think it was more than just sauce they made.
Why one day I walked in and found them ....
... conjugating an irregular French verb.
"Mon Dieu and coq au vin!" exclaimed Bernaise, rapidly adjusting her clothing. "What have we done?" She ...
... queried querulously, qualifying her query with a quick quip, "I mean, it's not like we're not grown adults you know." With that, she picked up the large ladle and began to ...
crack a woody when he wades through the fog of Alzheimers and rea;lises it was the bloody Gazungas what did for him due the, the, the..... now where was I? Hells Bells, WHO am I?????.
Monsueir you are Napoleon Bonaparte
Merci Monsieur, I shall make you a Marshall in my army and send you to invade a small country for moi.....please bring back some.......
...icy cold french fosters...
Unfortunately, due to a transcription glitch, this came out as "icy cold french foresters" which explains why Napoleon was eventually confronted by a small group of blokes in green kit, encrusted with ice particles, shivering and querying, querulously: "Quoi ...?"
Behind them loomed a lugubrious Pom wearing a downturned moustache and a French gendarme's uniform. He said:-
"Cin I holp ye?"
"Oh no!" they cried "It's ...
...the muffin man....
"
"Not the Muffin Man!" exclaimed Napoleon as he had a flash back to a movie with a green Ogre as the lead.
A donkey started to ...
..gnaw on the back of his greatcoat as he pondered whether or not to...
... slowly transmogrify into a mule. Muffin the Mule!! (Which, by the way, is incorrectly considered by some to be an event at the Idiots Olympics: alongside such time-honoured sports as Heading the Shot and Catching the Javelin) ...
This reminded him of the time he was entered in to Idiots Olympics but did not qualify. This negative event made him as happy as a one legged man at an a**e kicking contest. Enough of the past he thought, as he tapped his wooden leg and.....
and realized it was infested with termites so he....
... dug a few out and chewed reflectively on them as he tried to remember the other event from the Idiots Olympics. The one that eluded his memory. What the hell was it ... that's it!
"Roger the Cabin Boy!" he exclaimed.
"Coming!" said Staines, gleefully, unfastening his pantaloons as he clambered back through the rip in the fabric of the universe ...
but as Staines was "sans cullottes" the rip closed in disgust. So Roger was saved from his lustful advances for once.
Thanks heavens thought Roger. If I have to put up with that buffoon invading my personal space one more time, I swear I'll ....
take up woodwork for a hobby instead and no more BB for me.
"Now, children," said Susan. "I hope you understand that the plot deviations are intrinsic to the literary worth of this many-layered piece."
"What is she talking about?" said young Henry. "I can't make head nor tail of the plot. The only thing I have understood in this chapter is the bit about Napoleon making someone a Marshal of France."
"Does that mean he gets to pin a star on his waistcoat and smoke thin black cheroots?" said Herbert.
"Back in your box, you idiot!" quoth Henry, swatting him with a manuscript. "You're a ...
hobgoblin who should never see the light of day.
With Herbert the hobgoblin safely srowed, Susan was able to continue her tale of Marshall Crabtree and how it was that he managed to earn the Legion D'Honour.
You see children, it all started when Captain Crabtree, as he was then ...
an ardent fan of Herr Flick of the Gestapho????, who on this occasion was dressed in his favourite...
.....Wooden vest with the wooden buttons and his best pair of wooden pantaloooons which were unfortunately somewhat splintered, which explains why he exclaimed loudly, " I have a big prick!" as he...........
pulled his wooden pantaloons down. He also suffered a splinter in the bum. Several of the book club ladies ...
... were dressed in trenchcoats and wearing black berets and ankle socks. Yes! this clearly identified them as members of the Resistance. Their leader, a tasty looking brunette, leaned forward and addressed Susan:
"Listen vary carefoolly," she said. "I shall say zees only wence! Get zat berm-spleentered Gestapo buffoon wiz zer wooden pantaloons out of zer plot line immediatement or my girls will be obliged to splinter more zan 'ees berm!"
Susan blinked a couple of times and ...
lo! it was so.
Captain Crabtree turned to the luscious ladies of the resistance and said:
Mon dieu, why do you tease me so, you little ...
But he was immediately interrupted by the tasty Michelle. Addressing him in perfectly enunciated upper clarse Pommy English, she said:-
"Pull yourself together, Crabtree! You're supposed to be impersonating a gendarme, old chap. Gendarmes don't flirt with members of the Resistance!"
This gave the Legion d'Honneur recipient serious pause - which was a bit of a bugger because they didn't really go well with his gendarme's uniform (the paws, that is). He attempted to scratch his head and succeeeded beyond his rather modest expectations. The resultant lacerations to the scalp induced a degree of sympathy from the increasingly tasty Michelle. She dug her official French Resistance Girls' Personal Medical Kit from the pocket of her trenchcoat and proceeded to ...
...roll it onto the Captain's....
to give Crabtree succour.
"Mademoiselle!" ejaculated Crabtree, eet has bin a long time since I've been succoured like that.
To which the tasty Michelle said ...
"Why, you amorous secret agent!" said Michelle in her most seductive Franglais accent. "And I 'ave not even been awarded a medal!"
"Perhaps you misunderstood me," said the Captain. "I was not referring to the traditional peck each side of the face but rather ..."
something much more Eenglish.
As you know mme, the rosbifs are fond of zee stick. Zey learn ziz in their ...
.. upper class private schools (known as public schools)."
No sooner had the words left his lips than Michelle hurled him to the floor and began to have at him with a riding crop.
"Oh Bloody Hell, No! Ow! *****! Gawdelpus!" yelled Crabtree. "I went to a council elementary school! I'm not one of those bloody public school and Cambridge-educated Communist deviates! Stop whacking me!"
"Oh!" said Michelle. "Sorry! I thought you might like it!"
"No!" said Crabtree. " I ..."
love it!!
Now I know why I was always told not to have ideas above my station.
Those bloody aristos just wanted to keep the fun for themselves.
Crabtree was so outraged by this discovery that he resolved to ....
go back to school and learn how to ...
... Roger the ...
...saurus (that was Roget, wasn't it?).
Roget's Thesaurus would possibly help Crabtree to find synonyms for those words he had most difficulty in pronouncing.
Michelle was delighted with this notion and showed her approval by ...
scratching her bum with the salad fork which also came in handy as a......