Uncanny Tales – (098) Indecent Proposal

 

The Dulcets are a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet St Mary, Dulcet Green, and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet-on-Willow which was a large sprawling village beside the gentle shallow River Willow, which ran unhurriedly from the Pepperstock Hills to the more vibrant River Brooke.

Ryan Lansbury was a long-time resident of the village, and he was popular with many of the other locals because Ryan was young, tall, dark, and handsome, physically fit, well-toned and had a reputation as a ladies’ man, which was very well warranted.

He was 28 years old, and his father owned half of the Dulcets, and he was grooming him to one day take over the reins of his modest real estate empire, unfortunately for his father Ryan had no interest in the business as he was primarily interested in crumpet in all its forms.

Obviously, he didn’t restrict his conquests to just the inhabitants of the Dulcets he also cast his net far and wide as he shagged everything in sight.

But his father controlled the purse strings, so he was often restricted to the villages, which he didn’t mind as he actually loved it, it was a beautiful place, it was quiet and the air was clean and the women were as attractive, friendly, and willing as any city girl, and there were more than enough to keep him entertained, both new conquests and frequently flyers. 

Among the local villagers, lonely widows, desperate singles, even more desperate divorcees, and the bored house frau’s he was manna from heaven, and he was very indiscriminate in spreading himself around, but he made an exception in the case of Goldie Vaghese.

She was neither a widow, a divorcee, a frequent flyer, or a local cougar, what she was, was the vicar’s daughter and she was only 17.

Goldie had been trying to get into Ryan’s bed since the moment she turned 16 but he had resisted her allure.

The reason for that was not that she wasn’t attractive, she was very, she was a petite blonde, with a beautiful face and tidy body.

Nor was it her age, he had bedded plenty of 17- and 18-year-olds in his time and would doubtless have a good many more.

His issue with her was the fact she was the vicar’s innocent daughter and he thought it would be a step too far, so he kept dodging her less than subtle advances.  

He managed to keep her at arm’s length for more than six months without too much difficulty, but she became bolder and bolder until one day when he had been for meal at the Pub in the village and walked over to his car and found Goldie sitting in the passenger seat.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I was just passing” she replied.

“You have to stop doing this” he said and got into the driver’s seat.

But when he got in the car, he noticed she was wearing a pale blue top but was completely naked from the waist down.

“Can we go now?” she asked and put her left foot up on the dashboard.

“For God’s sake Goldie cover yourself up”.

“Why, don’t you like what you see?”

“That’s not the problem” he said, “Someone will see”.

“Then take me somewhere else” Goldie said coyly.

“How many times do I have to say it, no” he said.

“Now cover yourself up and I’ll take you home”.

“I don’t want to go home” she replied “but you can “take me”“

“Stop!” he snapped.

“Why? What’s wrong with me?” she said angrily.

“You have absolutely no morals whatsoever and you shag anyone and everyone” she retorted “So why not me?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You don’t need to get defensive; I know you’re shagging half the women in the Dulcets” she said matter of fact-Ly “and so does everyone else so don’t bother trying to deny it, I even know who a lot of them are,”

“I think someone has been spreading rumours” he said defensively.

“If they were only rumours, I wouldn’t be interested in letting you shag me” she said.

Ryan went to speak but Goldie stopped him by asking.

“So why not me?” she said angrily.

“You’re too young” he said.

“Rubbish I’m nearly 18 so it’s not illegal”.

“And I’m 28 so it may not be illegal but it’s certainly immoral” he pointed out.

“Why? It’s not as if I’m a virgin” she said, and he looked shocked.

“What? you thought because I’m a Vicars daughter that I was all virginal and pure?” she scoffed.

“Well yes” he said.

“Really? Well, I haven’t been a pure Christian maid since I was 13” she confessed.

“So now can we go somewhere and shag?” she asked and

Ryan replied by starting the engine.

Uncanny Tales – (093) Rewriting History One Fact at A Time # 3

 

If there is one thing that irritates me more than any other, it has to be historical inaccuracies in film and TV scripts.

Now I’m not talking about things like Braveheart or The Battle of the Bulge or countless other attempts by the Americans to rewrite history.

No, the things that irritate me are the little things, the small easy to verify things, the things that they just can’t be bothered to do right.

 

For example, take the 2006 movie “the Holiday” with Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jude Law, Jack Black, and Eli Wallach, which. I particularly liked.

It has all the ingredients required for a great Christmas film, engaging characters, humour, pathos, romance, cute kids, and a happy ending, or in this case a multiple happy ending.

That aside the Grinch in me won’t forgive the unpardonable sin of a glaring error and a failure to research correctly.

Eli Wallach’s character, Arthur, asks Iris played by Kate Winslet

“What part of England are you from?”

To which she replies “Surrey”

“Cary Grant was from Surrey” Arthur says.

“That’s right he was” Iris confirms.

No, he bloody wasn’t from Surrey he was from Bristol.

How did they not get that right, why did they not check a simple fact like that?

If they wanted to keep the Cary Grant reference, Iris could have answered Arthur’s question.

“What part of England are you from?”

By saying, “Bristol”

Or if they wanted her to be from Surrey, why didn’t they pick another internationally known actor from Surrey such as Bill Nighy, Colin Firth, Edward Woodward, Julia Ormond, Julie Andrews, Laurence Olivier, Peggy Ashcroft, Peter Cushing, or Ronald Colman.

How simple would that have been “Laurence Olivier was from Surrey” Arthur could have said, but no they had to ruin an otherwise perfectly good film.

Uncanny Tales – (092) Rewriting History One Fact at A Time # 2

 

If there is one thing that irritates me more than any other, it has to be historical inaccuracies in film and TV scripts.

Now I’m not talking about things like Braveheart or The Battle of the Bulge or countless other attempts by the Americans to rewrite history.

No, the things that irritate me are the little things, the small easy to verify things, the things that they just can’t be bothered to do right.

 

For example, in the American hit TV series NCIS there is a character, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo played by Michael Weatherly, who, apart from being a special agent also considers himself to be a bit of film buff.

DiNozzo is constantly either quoting from movies or is making endless film references to accompany any given situation he is in or indeed crime scene he is at.

In one episode he is drawing a parallel between his own situation and that of the characters in the 1938 classic “Angels with Dirty Faces” with James Cagney, Pat O'Brien and Humphrey Bogart.

And the afore mentioned parallel would have been quite apt, had he not made a serious faux pas, well I think it was serious.

He referenced to the fact that Rocky Sullivan and Jerry Connolly grew up as tough kids in Hell's Kitchen, the toughest part of New York, and their destinies were set when Rocky got sent to reform school and Jerry escaped the law and went on to becomes a priest.

So far so good, but where DiNozzo went wrong was to say that the Father Connolly character was played by Bogey (Humphrey Bogart), who was in the film, when he was in fact played by Pat O'Brien.

Quite unforgivable when DiNozzo is supposed to be an aficionado of film.

Uncanny Tales – (091) Rewriting History One Fact at A Time # 1

 

If there is one thing that irritates me more than any other, it has to be historical inaccuracies in film and TV scripts.

Now I’m not talking about things like Braveheart or The Battle of the Bulge or countless other attempts by the Americans to rewrite history.

No, the things that irritate me are the little things, the small easy to verify things, the things that they just can’t be bothered to do right.

 

For example, there was an American sci-fi series in the 90’s called “Babylon 5” which I much enjoyed, and if truth be told I liked it more than the Star Trek equivalent of “Deep Space 9”.

However, in one episode, “Comes the Inquisitor”, there was a character called Sebastian, who it transpired as the story unfolded was in reality Jack the Ripper.

When his true identity came to light during the story it was announced that in the late 1800’s Jack the Ripper plagued London’s West End.

No! No! No! Jack the Ripper did not stalk the theatre district he was too busy amusing himself killing prostitutes in the East End.

It was a simple mistake that just shouldn’t have happened, but it did and there really is no excuse for it this day and age when research is such a simple matter.

I find it difficult to comprehend that such a basic error made it to the airing.

Surely one of the writing team or production staff or even one of the cast, would have asked “Are you sure it was the West End?” but apparently not.

 

Last Christmas my wife bought me the boxed set and when we were watching the relevant episode, we both braced ourselves for the fateful moment and then laughed when we discovered it had been rather amateurishly dubbed.     

Uncanny Tales – (090) There’s More to Life Than Being Young and Fit

 

Now I’ve left middle age behind me in the distance I occasionally hark back to my youth when I really was as young as I felt, to the days before my six pack became victim to too many six packs, I suppose my current physique I have to confess is not so much a six pack but rather more a party seven.

(If you don’t know what a party seven is then this ramble probably doesn’t apply to you).

The thought of my girlfriends of the day with their firm buttocks, flat stomachs and gravity defying breasts stir my loins with more than a sense of nostalgia, and part of me wants to return to those carefree days of youth but I have grave reservations about being a teenager again or worse being myself amongst teenagers.

Having shared a train carriage with four teenage girls only a day ago and having endured the incessant and inane jabbering for two long soul-destroying hours, when they had exhausted their limited vocabulary within the first 10 minutes, the thought of repetitious teenage pillow talk fills me with dread.

How is it that with all the many means of communication at their disposal they still have nothing meaningful to say?

There is a lot to be said for being with a woman who is wrinkle free and supple and of limited sexual experience, carnal knowledge was so much fun to learn, and all this reminiscing leaves me with a certain longing.

But the price is too high to pay, it is so much better being with someone with life experience, someone you can have a proper conversation with in between the love making or indeed instead of it.

It doesn’t have to be deep and meaningful converse just a bit more than he said/she said init.

It can be as simple as a common history or shared knowledge, someone who knows the name of the dragon in Ivor the Engine, or someone who watched Brief Encounter and didn’t think it was funny.

Someone who remembers being able to play music at the wrong speed and who remembers having to wait for the black and white TV set to warm up.

Just someone who understands what you are saying and doesn’t stare vacantly at you when you mention an event that happened pre-1990.

Uncanny Tales – (085) An Unsuitable Candidate

 

It was a beautiful June evening when Ian Livesey was sat by the river in the beer garden of the Mulberry Tree in the village of Brocklington, about six miles downstream of the River Deighton when Angie Faulkner, who carried a torch for him, joined him at the table. 

“Hi Ian” she said, “I’m looking for a date for the Summer Ball”.

“You’re leaving it late” he said, “I can’t believe you’re struggling to find someone”.

“I was hoping it would be you” she said and smiled.

“That’s a terrible idea” Ian retorted.

“Why is it?”

“I never take a date to the Ball, I always go Stag, for obvious reasons” he pointed out.

“But you wouldn’t need to pick up a woman if you took me as your date, and then you could have me” Angie said. “So be my date”.

“No”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I am not dating material” Ian replied.

“But you’re my kind of material” she pleaded “You’ve always been the one for me”.

“I am not a suitable candidate for you”.

“Your perfect to me” she said.

“I’m a womanizer Angie”, Ian said “I’m not the boyfriend type”.

“But I’d be really happy if you were my boyfriend and wouldn’t care about your infidelity as long as you never touched my sisters, or my mother.”

And then almost as an afterthought she added, “Or my Aunt Agnes.”

“Isn’t she the one with the moustache?” he asked, and she laughed.

“Yes, but she has great tits” she pointed out.

“Fair Comment” he agreed.

Her sisters were six years old so were far too young to be candidates for his lust, but he hadn’t considered her mother or moustache Pete for that matter, although her mum was still quite fit, so under the right circumstance he might.

He was just digesting what she had said when he caught sight of one of the barmaids, collecting glasses and at that precise moment she bent over to pick up an empty glass and he could see up her skirt to her thonged womanhood.

“All I would want is your undivided attention when we were together” she said and punched him.

“Sorry” he said.

“That’s ok, you can look at her nonny” she said, “as long as when you got an erection, you’d give it to me.”

“Well, I’ll give it to someone” Ian said.

“Why not me?” she said angrily “Why can’t I be a notch in your headboard?”

“Because you’re better than that, you can do better than that”.

“But I want you” she said urgently. “I love you”.

“You might be happy to put up with my peccadilloes in the beginning, but a time would come, probably sooner rather than later, when you wouldn’t be” he said, “And then love will turn to hate”.

“But…” she began.

“I would just make you unhappy” Ian Said

“Save your love for someone who will cherish it, who will cherish you”.

Uncanny Tales – (083) A Blank Canvas

 

In the southern town of Abbottsford, the biggest in Downshire, the administrative capital, seat of the Downshire government is the location of the Abbotsford Regents Hotel, where twice divorced Vicky Wey was staying, and she had just celebrated her 40th Birthday and as a special Birthday present to herself she seduced 19-year-old virgin Hotel Employee Jamie Pullen.

He wasn’t her usual kind of prey, but he was good looking, physically fit and she could bend him to her will.

She saw Jamie as a blank canvas for her to paint with lust, so she lured him to her suite and took him to paradise.

Uncanny Tales – (082) Rejecting the Nanny State

 

The town of Shallowfield sat on the southern edge of the Finchbottom Vale and it had always relied largely upon forestry and agriculture for its prosperity, sitting as it was sandwiched between fertile farmland and the Dancingdean Forest.

This was reflected in Addison’s Cafe where Forester Paul Dyer was having breakfast with his farm labourer girlfriend Ellie Dyke.

Paul had just started tucking into his full English breakfast when Ellie finished her second bowl of muesli.

She had her phone on the table in front of her propped up against the flower vase and she was reading an article.

“Apparently today is “Eat What You Want Day”” she said.

“That’s good, because that’s just what I’m doing” he retorted.

“Yes, but you do that every day” Ellie pointed out.

“Quite right” he agreed.

“Shouldn’t everyone’s day be like that?”

“I don’t think it’s about prohibition” she said.

“It’s more about awareness.”

“Well, I’m aware it’s about the Nanny state” he retorted.

“I think it’s more about getting people to think about their health and wellbeing” Ellie said in her best patronizing tone as she patted his hand.

“Well, my health and wellbeing would be served by not trying to make me feel guilty about food all the sodding time?” he replied and laughed out loud.

“I’ll get you some more toast, shall I?”

“Yes please” he replied with a grin.

Uncanny Tales – (081) Anger Management

 

Wayne Evans was up before the Beak at the Magistrates Court in the southern town of Abbottsford facing public order charges following a road rage incident while his brother Matt waited outside.

“How did you get on?” Matt asked when his brother left the court building and walked down the steps.

“A £400 fine” he replied, “and the judge said I need to go on a bloody anger management course”.

“Well, that’s not so bad then” Matt replied.

“Anger bloody management! I ask you” he ranted.

“What you need is a good woman in your life” Matt suggested.

“As a calming influence”

“Are you mad?” Wayne exploded.

“It’s having a bloody woman in my life that got me so angry in the first place.”

Uncanny Tales – (078) The Ultimatum

 

The Dulcets are a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet-on-Willow, Dulcet Green, and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet St Mary which where Amelia Allford and her boyfriend Steve Moore

were sat in his lounge and had greedily dispatched their Chinese takeaway and were cuddled up on the sofa, halfway through the credits of a Sandra Bullock movie called “The Lake House,” he definitely would, by the way, when Amelia suddenly said.

“Do you remember a few months ago when I said I didn’t mind you shagging other women?”

“Yes” He said cautiously “but…”

“And I know you still are so don’t bother trying to deny it” she said sternly, and he went to speak but she stopped him with a look.

“I don’t know who, though I have my suspicions,” she said flatly.

“And I don’t think I want to know but I know you’re sleeping with other women” she paused.

“And as I said last time I don’t mind.”

She paused again.

“For now, but there will come a time in the not-too-distant future when I will.”

“I love you and I’m certain sure of that, and I know you say you love me but I’m not so sure of that.”

“But I do love you” he said taking her hand.

“But you don’t love me as completely as I love you” she retorted taking her hand away “you are enough for me, but clearly, I’m not enough for you.”

He tried to speak again but again she stopped him, so he got up and paced the room.

“So, you have until February to sow your wild oats or to curb your appetites or whatever it is you do.”

“But by my 21st birthday I need to feel your commitment”.

Steve went to speak.

“And no that’s not a euphemism” she said without humour “you need to want me and me alone.”

“And that’s all I have to say” she said, he was cleared to speak now but he didn’t know what to say he wanted to say don’t be silly you’re the only one for me, but he knew he was a dog.

Steve knew that he was getting plenty, and he was liking that, but if he wanted to keep the girl, he loved it was obvious he would have to change.

“Is that why you don’t use the door key?” he asked.

Amelia was on her knees removing the DVD and Steve perched on the arm of the sofa just watching her almost in a daze.

“Yes” she replied without turning around.

“Because…” she began but couldn’t finish.

“You don’t want to catch me with another woman” he said finishing her sentence and she carried on what she was doing slowly and deliberately.

Steve was a little shocked, firstly because and it never occurred to him for a moment that he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, and secondly although he knew he loved Amelia more than he had ever loved anyone he didn’t realise quite how much that was until that moment when he realised, he could lose her.

The prospect of losing her stunned him and he knew he had to make changes in his life.

Amelia finished putting the DVD in its box and switched off the TV.

“Don’t look so glum” she said as she stood up.

“I’m not giving up on you yet.”

“We’ve dealt with the serious bit,” she said slipping off her cardigan.

“Now we get to do the fun stuff.”

And she walked towards him unbuttoning her blouse as she did so until by the time, she was stood in front of him her pert unfettered breasts were in his face.

Uncanny Tales – (077) Conditional Lust

 

The Dulcets are a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet-on-Willow, Dulcet Green, and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet St Mary which where Amelia Allford and her boyfriend Steve Moore

were sat in the Cross Key’s beer garden discussing the previous week and Amelia raised an eyebrow when he told her about the meeting with a proper cougar in a hotel.

“Well, that’s just the perfect scenario for a lothario” she said tongue in cheek.

“What do you mean a lothario?” he protested.

“It’s alright I don’t mind you shagging other women” she said, and it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I know you do, so don’t bother trying to deny it” she said sternly.

“I don’t know who they are, and I don’t need to know who they are,”

He went to speak but she stopped him with a look.

“However, I have the following conditions, first you never touch my sisters” she said before adding.

“Or my mother”

Her sisters were far too young to be candidates for his lust, but he hadn’t considered her mother, and she was still an attractive woman.

“And as long as when you’re with me I have your undivided attention” she continued.

“Can I look at other women when were together?” he asked.

“Yes”

“And can I have lustful thoughts about them?”

“Only if I get the benefit of any resulting erection” she replied, and he was just digesting what she had said when he caught sight of the barmaid Molly collecting glasses and at that precise moment, she bent over to pick up an empty glass and flashed her thonged nether’s to all the customers in the garden.

“So, if the sight of Molly’s knickers wakes up the one-eyed beast, I get to tame it.”

“Well, that seems clear enough” he said.

Uncanny Tales – (076) A Roving Eye

 

The Dulcets are a collection of villages and hamlets comprising of Dulcet Meadow, Dulcet-on-Willow, Dulcet Green and Dulcet-on-Brooke, to name but a few, and of course Dulcet St Mary which where Amelia Allford and her boyfriend Steve Moore were sat in the Cross Key’s beer garden discussing the previous week and Amelia raised an eyebrow when he told her about the a meeting with a proper cougar in a Hotel, and his phone buzzed, he picked it up and saw that he had a voice mail, he selected listen now.

“Hi Steve, Kelly here, I just wanted to touch base with you, I thought it was a very fruitful meeting yesterday and I feel it might be mutually beneficial if we were to meet again, soon. Call me on...”

“I don’t think so” he said and deleted it.

“Who was that”? Amelia asked.

“It’s just one of those “Have you been miss sold PPI? We can help” calls.”

Uncanny Tales – (075) Consolation

 

It was 1.30pm when Gary woke up and decided to take himself into the bathroom and have a shower and he had just finished drying off when the doorbell rang.

He slipped on his robe and made his way downstairs and the doorbell rang again.

“Ok I’m coming” Gary called.

He got to the front door as quickly as possible and on opening it he discovered Evelyn standing the other side of it in tears.

“What’s happened?” he asked as he pulled her into the house.

He quickly closed the door, and she immediately threw herself into his arms.

It was some minutes before she had composed herself sufficiently to be able to speak.

“I’ve just come from the hospital,” she sobbed and then broke down again.

So, he chivalrously stepped into action, offering himself up to comfort her with arms open wide.

“I’m sorry” Evelyn said gratefully accepting his open arms and burying her tearstained face in his neck.

He made encouraging noises and stroked her back, but being a shoulder to cry on was the full extent of his expertise.

They held that position for some time until Evelyn’s sobs began to get shallower and shallower and eventually abated.

But still she held on to him tightly and began to nuzzle his neck and he could feel her breath on his skin, and while still nuzzling his neck her hands began to caress up and down his back and her nuzzles turned to kisses.

So, it appeared the Gary could do more than offer a shoulder to cry on as he ended up consoling her on the sofa, before consoling her some more later in his bed.

THERE IS A SPECIAL PLACE

There is a special place

In hell for people that play

Any Christmas music

Before Thanksgiving Day

CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE WORKHOUSE # 5

 

It’s Christmas Day in the workhouse

Just another grey day to endure

Jamie Oliver is cooking the dinner

So, no Turkey Twizzlers in store

NEW PUPILS

 

At the North Pole, For those

Not begun Schooling yet,

Must firstly be enrolled

And then taught the Elphabet

 

NEVER EVER CATCH A SNOWFLAKE

Never ever catch a snowflake

In your mouth

Until you’re sure all the birds

Have flown south 

JAMES DEAN LIVED LIFE TO THE FULL

 

James Dean lived life to the full

Seldom taking the time to pause

But he didn’t believe in Santa

So he was a rebel without a Claus

DIFFERENCES # 3

 

The difference between Santa Claus

And a serial philanderer, as it goes

Is in essence a total lack of self-control

Because Santa stopped at three ho’s

CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE WORKHOUSE # 2

 

It was Christmas Eve in the workhouse

And not a hint of the season in sight

No stockings hang by the fire side

So, it’s just like every other Night