Such a prescient, beautiful sentiment.

Monday, 30 March 2009

Back in The Bunker!

Is this how it will end?

She sat outside in the poorly lit corridor. Since all briefings were confined to this deep underground basement it was her first visit. She had been waiting now for over three hours. People had come and gone. A medical team, many repeat visits by a Jeeves like man. On one occasion she saw a wooden rocking horse, smashed to pieces, taken from the room. The heavy metal door was always slightly ajar. She heard, every few minutes, the flushing of a toilet from behind the massive steel, bolt adorned, barrier.

She allowed herself occasional musings behind her foremost concentration on the weekend just passed. She wondered if his DVDs gift from Obi was declarable, since, unlike her own state of the art system, they were unplayable.

Suddenly she stiffened, her eyes now used to the single, uncovered bulb that lit the corridor, as she saw a tall, ermine dressed figure glide down the corridor. Just as this "creature" slid round the armoured gap in the door, she could make out shiny, snakeskin shoes. The heavy metal door closed with an alarming clunk.

As he entered, there were two figures sat on a small bench against the far wall of the room. So dark was the lighting neither was clearly visible. Only the humming sound from one portly figure distinguished one from the other. A slightly brighter glow came from a doorway adjoining the room. A tiled wall was barely discernible from that cubicle.

He knew the scene was set and he could not know if his once soothing presence would once more stave off the momentum gaining descent into madness.

He had but a moment to wonder who the second figure might be. A doctor, a last remaining companion, the last party believer, a trade unionist maybe? The humming continued, a very soft voice whispered to him to sit near the door. The twisted "R" and roundness of this man gave him his first clue. He thought to himself, "Strewth it's cojones man". Now he was worried. Here was a creature so loathed and detested by everyone, the man that would be King, almost canoodling with Heathcliffe. Had he relayed their plotting, was the post G20 coup now to be exposed. His usually calm mind raced with fear. He forgot that when the eruption came all would be screamed in a few manic rants of rage. He had barely sat when it happened. The clang of the steel door alongside his ear was deafening as the Nokia flashed through the air and ricocheted off the metal. He could just hear a chair clatter to the floor in the corridor.

The dark, brooding shape had turned into a horror movie. Round the room the figure leapt, bouncing from the walls. "This was to be my fucking world takeover. Every bloody Bilderberger on the planet, eating out of my hand. Billions of cocoa bean dollars splurged on a meeting of unknown luxury." He stumbled against the desk in the corner, totally ignoring the gash caused to his shin. He paused, hitching up the giant nappy he could now be seen to be wearing. He swirled towards the cloaked, now standing figure by the door. His face was contorted with rage. One empty eye socket added to the awful state of the man. His thick, matted chest hair was covered in sweat and spittle. The nappy was deeply stained. It waddled comically yet horribly across the room. He was clutching now a large wooden mallet.

"Is she outside?" was asked of the red, full length caped shape by the door. Before he could answer, the terry towelling coddled figure slumped to the floor. As the snake skin shod man gently raised the door lever, not dissimilar to an aircraft door lever he thought, "cajones" was just discernible. A strange rapid blinking of the eyes and a smirk was visible on that face.

The tall man squeezed through a small gap in the door. As he left the room the prostrate shaking figure on the floor looked pleadingly up at him. "What, what should I do" she loudly whispered to him. "Don't under any circumstances go in there", he replied. "What about you", the woman asked. "Me?" queried the man, "I have some offshore business to attend to" and slithered off down the corridor passing a hurrying team of doctors and male nurses coming toward him.


  1. Oldrightie, I do enjoy the small references to your previous spoofs. I may even become a fan!

  2. Well done Oldrightie - if only......

  3. You have far too much time on your hands, as opposed to the Timney creature who also has things on his hands.....

  4. "You have far too much time on your hands,"

    Ok, I'm off to do my under gardener stuff! As for Dick and his d.....well, better ask Jacqui! Thanks for dropping by.