Archives for September 2004

Lazy Jack Silver was tall.  A little too tall perhaps.  He liked to drawl in his singsong Cork accent ““Boy, IÂ’’m tall and I’Â’m proud”.” He was also excellent at puns.  He sauntered into a bar anxious to pick up an Oxford graduate research student.  But he was a little tense.  He was in a long distance relationship with a girl in Dublin. Also there was the risk of putting his relationship with Heather in jeopardy.  “Although” he reflected wryly “ his recent flat sitting seemed to have soured things”.  And then there was the enigmatic Pog, would he ever meet her or would he just end up sitting in bars in exotic places, his eyes full of tears and his evenings ruined?  He tried to put that behind him.  His work allowed him to travel to exotic destinations where he could try to forget.  Working on a newspaper with a lecturing job on the side and (um silver, what is it you do?) meant that his every waking minute was filled with excitement and adventure.  People envied him his glamourous lifestyle, he supposed. But he had his own private tragedies, would he ever forget the bitter evening in August when Bolton beat his beloved Liverpool 1 – 0? And then there was the tormented relationship with the Skinny Within.  Ah, better not to think of it.  He scanned the bar looking for distraction….

belgianwaffleon 29 September 2004 at 11:41
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Comment Modified) Jack, I know you love it really. HJB, I don’t really know Menace the blogger so I’m looking more for head ripping but I’m afraid it can’t happen immediately because then our hero would be dead and the story would be over. Would you like to feature as a basic instinct type person? In exchange for that sweetie, I think we can pretty much write you up as you’d like. Get back to me.

A shot rang out in the bar.  LJS felt the bullet go by ruffling his glossy chestnut locks.  People screamed and fell to the floor but he remained immobile.  He knew that bullet had his name on it but he was sure that the assasin wouldn’t risk a second shot.  He had been a target before. Many times. Hhis three jobs were just part of his cover.  He was an agent of the underground movement for a free People’s Republic of Cork.  The police arrived. They immediately gravitated to LJS; with his chiselled jaw and calm air, he had an imposing presence. “Did you see anything?”

“No, but it was aimed at me. I think it could be one of my former lovers who lives in Switzerland.”  “That’ll teach her to get all ratty about a stupid cat”  he thought bitterly.  He supposed that in setting the police on Heather who lived, to all appearances, at least, a blameless life,  he had been cruel.  But she had been cruel to him and LJS was not in the mood to forgive.

“Excuse me sir, but would you like to see a counsellor?” asked an apologetic policeman.

Counsellor pah, thought LJS, I eat counsellors for breakfast.

“We have Jojo available…” the policeman interrupted his thoughts.

Ah, well, if it was the lovely Jojo, perhaps he would see a counsellor after all.  Rumour had it that Jojo had settled down to a life of blissful domesticity with husband and baby, but LJS had thought of an exciting new pun that he felt Jojo might enjoy…

*Author’s note. I am very poor at puns – can someone help me out here?

poggleon 30 September 2004 at 12:31
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Comment Modified) Shouldn’t that have read:”… but he remained nomobile …”??

LJS strolled languidly into Jojo’s beautifully appointed office.  He turned around and said to the empty doorway “Stay Barky!”.

Jojo rolled her eyes “Still got the imaginary dog” she muttered.  Honestly, talented and all as she was she wondered whether there was anything she could do for LJS. “Well,” she said brightly “I see you’ve got rid of the squirrel” but no sooner were the words out of her mouth than a small rodent wearing, oh good grief, a superman shirt, scampered up LJS’s arm and perched on his shoulder.

“I suppose that you heard that HJB tried to kill me” he said lazily.

“Don’t be ridiculous” snapped Jojo ” I have it on excellent authority that” Jojo paused and read from a piece of paper “naturally Heather had ensured that she was highly visible at a Raclette dinner with Phil Collins in downtown Geneva when the shot rang out. Perhaps it was sentimentality that had persuaded her to wear the 15 carat diamond necklace that evening; or perhaps she knew that such a fabulous jewel on the neck of such a glamorous woman would ensure maximum publicity in the international press.” “Our people in Interpol are speedy and efficient – well, the Swiss people are anyway – the pictures will be in “Hello” tomorrow”.

LJS flashed his magnificent turquoise eyes in irritation “Come off it, Jojo, you know Heather as well as I do, she could easily manage to be in two places at once or, failling that, get a hitman”.

Jojo looked at him appraisingly – what he said was true, there were more sides to Heather than she would like the Swiss police to know about but something told Jojo that HJB wasn’t involved in this hit.  Heather never made mistakes, if she wanted LJS dead well then he wouldn’t be here now.

She decided to turn the subject. She drew a deep breath “how are things with Pog?”  LJS turned away ashen faced, the squirrel cast Jojo a look of deep disapproval and offered LJS a nut.

LJS spoke with difficulty “this isn’t about Pog, forget her, I have, I’m seeing someone in Dublin now…”

Jojo raised her eyebrows, if LJS was seeing a non-Cork girl things had really changed. As though he read her thoughts LJS said “a Cork girl in deep cover”. “I see” said Jojo. Anyway, enough about his personal life she decided, she had had enough of that during the time she had worked as his counsellor and now she had other fish to fry.

“So” she said “who do you think shot at you assuming it’s not HJB?”

“I should have thought it would be obvious” he said.

Jojo remembered how LJS had never failed to irritate her in the past. “No, I’m afraid it’s not, do tell me”

“Well, I will, but first I have an excellent pun…”

*Author’s note: I’m getting a bit desperate for a pun here people.