Sunday, October 19, 2008

Pointless Chatter

“Hermits and gargoyles,” said Harold, kicking his feet against the raised letters of Harold Potter (1747 – 1798). “That’s all churches are good for.”

“And jumble sales,” I corrected him, “though they do seem to have gone out of fashion a bit. What with the social frowning upon second-hand clothing and the rise of e-bay and Freecycle people just don’t save stuff up for a good jumble sale any more.”

“I used to love jumble sales,” said Harold. “I turned my first 100% profit at a jumble sale when I was five.”

“Seven, actually,” I said. “You always thought you were five because it made a better story, but you were really seven. Tom Blesset still thinks you diddled him”

“That’s a complete lie,” said Harold. “He was older than me, anyway. He tried to bully me and the Reverend Sandy gave him a good telling off.”

“Yes, but he was an angel in disguise,” I said. “He wanted you to kick off the apocalypse early so that he could get some smiting done.”

“I didn’t know that then.” Harold heaved himself off the fake tomb and stared up at the tower of St. Marples’. Eleven o’clock on a Sunday and the bells of St. Pity’s were already competing with the bells of St. Jude’s. The papists wouldn’t let the protestants have the peal to themselves and had moved their morning mass back an hour in order to compete. They had the better bells, naturally, the Catholics were never short of a bob or two. “Maybe I ought to furnish this place with bells and train the gargoyles to ring them.”

“Too suspicious.” I frowned. “Although if you installed some off-key bells on and automatic mechanism it would be a cracking way to annoy people on a Sunday.”

“They’d just take an injunction out against them,” said Harold. “A better way would be to install enough of a range to be able to play some decent show tunes.”

“Porgy and Bess?” I grinned.

“It ‘aint necessarily so<” said Harold.

“You should sponsor St. Jude’s instead,” I said. “Reverent McKenzie would be grateful.”

“Bishop McKenzie now,” said Harold. “Would he let me slip some advertising in the parish magazine, do you think?”

“Not if its market ‘Occult and Evolutionist Books’ he won’t. He’d allow ‘Spiritually uplifting,’ I expect.” I punched his arm. “Or ‘Mortality Downsizing’.”

“Don’t,” said Harold. “I saw an advert for Fabian’s Post-Mortality Services’ in yesterday’s paper. Did you know he quotes for ‘Redemption Guaranteed or Your Money Back?’”

I laughed. “How would you ever claim it?” I said. “If you had any way of knowing if your loved one had been redeemed you’d get a one way ticket to the loony bin.”

“We don’t say loony bin’ in a politically correct environment,” said Harold. “We say ‘Secure Facilities for the Mentally Challenged.”

I nodded and lit a cigar. “They have those in America,” I said, “Except they call them ‘voting booths’.”


stephanie said...

Yes, we do! Ha - well said, Jasfoup.

Leatherdykeuk said...


aims said...

And - Heaven help us next week.

Let's all pray that that idiot Palin doesn't get in. The Rapture will surely happen then.

What's freecycle?

Leatherdykeuk said...

No president has managed to screw up in only one term.

Freecycle is a local mailing list - - where you post your unwanted stuff for people to collect. It's a recycling list.