The Strange...'ARSE!!...Case of John Tourette

Reblogged from Keith Newby:

It was the evening of 24th of October 1642, the day after the bloody battle at Edgehill. Long into the night I was still attending the wounded from that most horrific of encounters. Working for the Parliamentarians under the tyrannical rule of Oliver Cromwell, I found my belief in our Lord God waning. How could someone, in whom we put so much love, trust and faith, someone to whom we Worship?, destroy those He professes to love and be ‘thy saviour’ of.

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this is nice....MMMmmm...yes...I like!!!!!!!!!

OH Mother!!!

Courteous to the last, a trait Mother said ‘would endear you to the opposite sex’, had surely gone too far this time. At first sight, albeit from behind, She looked every inch a Lady. Dressed in the finest silks from the Orient, Hair Golden, and ringlet filled bows that looked like flowers in the golden sunlight, draped all around. Her lily-white neck, and silken skin without blemish, her slight frame, visible through the delicate fabrics that encased her beauteous form, animated by the midday Sun as it illuminated her graceful curves and taught buttocks. It wasn’t until she turned around that I took a step backwards and emptied the contents of my stomach down her front! PLEASE FORGIVE ME…. MOUSTACHE!!… I can only offer my deepest….SNOUT!!… I retched again….EIGHT CHINS!!!!!…. and counting!, I cried, FISH MOUTH…. I could take NO MORE!, Her orange eyes, crossed like the legs of an unwilling prostitute, followed me as I ran like a coward from the battle, the image of her VENUS MOUND like a fully formed Bullock protruding her dress… a ghastly image THAT SHALL HAUNT MY MIND!!, That was to be my BRIDE?.. OH MOTHER! YOU BITCH!!! I wailed, How could she have done this to ME! her only living Son. It was then I took my own life!

The Slingback Soldier

The Slingback Soldier.

The Slingback Soldier

I knew I shouldn’t have joined up!, but they made it all look so glamorous in the posters. That mustachioed man in uniform,…. it was as if he was pointing right at me,his eye’s piercin me soul….. made me feel ever so special…

 ‘Adventure!, Excitement!, and a Uniform’!…..I thought, ‘Ooo! Just up my street’,…. more like a back alley in Hoxton.

 Six weeks basic training at camp, …. ‘You could do wiv an ‘oliday’, she said… me Mum that is… Hilda, lovely woman…….. ‘You go luv’ she said, ‘you deserve a break, an anyway I’ve got your Auntie Enid comin Monday for a couple of days’.

 So, I went…. I met some lovely fella’s on the way down. Big and Strong,…’Real men’, as me Dad would say, God rest ‘is soul…… That’s as good as it got I’m afraid, from then on it was a nightmare. Up at 5am, I don’t usually go to bed till then! After me night’s out… well you know what I mean. Greasy fried breakfasts, I usually have a cup of tea and round of toast… does me till lunchtime….Anyway, I knew I’d made a mistake when they gave me the boots,…… ‘I can’t wear them’, I said, …well, …what with me bunions and ballerina instep! I could be crippled for life!…’ GET UM ON LAD,’ he shouted, ‘I beg your pardon’ I said, ‘don’t they teach you no manners where you come from’…….. ‘You see’, as I said, ‘its me arches’,….. ‘SHUUUTTT UUUPPPP! YOU SQUIRMIN PISSIN MAM’S BOY!!’, …… very nice, I must say!…. ‘GET EM BOOTS ON DOUBLE QUICK!!!!,

I sat on me bunk, which was another bugbear, I can’t share a room with all these men, It’s usually just me an Mum. We ave a routine see, Radio, Ovaltine, Bed by half past 8, unless I’ve got a job on, you know…….Anyway, I sat on the bed and put me feet in the boots, swimmin on me they were,….. ‘Sergeant’ I said, ‘Look, they’re much too big, play havoc with me bunions’, and before I could open me mouth again, he was there, in me face, well, I started to laugh didn’t I………’WHAT’S SO FUNNY YOU LITTLE POOF’!, he said………… ‘It’s your Tash Serg, ticklin me, reminds me of an, Acquaintance of mine’, well,…. he threw me all the way across the dorm,….. nearly broke a nail….’ GET YOUR POOFY LITTLE ARSE TO THE STORES AND FIND THE RIGHT SIZE, …QUICK, MARCH!!!

 I knew he’d come round in the end, and he noticed my little arse,…bless him.

The next day was hell!…….when we got back to the dorm I couldn’t walk, one of the men had to carry me back on his shoulders. Then!, we had to shower…all together….with no clothes on!, no one’s ever seen me in me altogether before, except Mum, not even me closest ‘acquaintances’…. I won’t go into detail,… But… they were all shapes an sizes, I’d never seen such a variety!.

Three weeks into ‘Basic’ trainin… ‘if this is basic’!I thought,… ‘I’d hate to be the poor sod’s on the advanced course’,…. we were given our special training orders….. Thank god I thought,…. I could do with a rest, ….. an what an addition to the concert party I would be, specially with Christmas coming…I’d make a great Dame!

Well, I could ave cried!…. Paratrooper!, Para..Bloody..Trooper!, At what point in those first three weeks did I show any skills that would compliment me as a Paratrooper!… I don’t even like heights, I get a nose bleed standing in me boots!.

Paratroopin it was then. For the next three weeks I was tossed about, thrown out of aeroplanes and taught… ‘how to survive behind enemy lines’. Survive! BEHIND enemy lines!… ‘Oh my giddy Aunt’, ‘this is it then I thought, the end!, …’MY END’!

I quickly scribbled a note to me Mum,

‘Hello Mum, just a quick note to let you know I’m avin a wonderful time…. I met lots of new friend, and we go up in a plane five times a day, you should see some of the views. Hope your keep well How’s Auntie Enid?, bless her, give her me love won’t you. Tarra for now. Love and kisses, your, Nigel.

p.s. Won’t be home for Christmas, we’re all going on a secret holiday.

I didn’t want to worry her or nothin, especially around Christmas…. Sad time you see. It was a Christmas Eve when Dad Passed. I was only 6 years old at the time, and he, God Bless him, thought it would be nice for his little son if Father Christmas Came down the Chimney, Only he’d ad one to many, slipped off the roof, crashed through the coal ole and landed on the Christmas delivery!, ……so I couldn’t tell her I was about to be dropped slap bang in the middle of Berlin!… BUT, slap bang in the middle of Berlin I was goin!

It was 7pm and we was all havin a laugh in the mess hall when the Sergeant came in and said….. ‘Right you snivelling little toe rags, get your kit, you is on your way to Berlin’!… this was it I thought, I will soon be joinin me poor old Dad! …I crossed me self… not that I’m Catholic, but they do seem get a better deal when it come to death.

It was a mad dash back to our bunks!… ‘now, what will I need to take’?, ‘don’t wanna be caught short or naffin…..Clean underpants and socks..Check..,’these army issue one’s are playing havoc with me urticaria,…. Brush and comb set..Check,…Mirror..Check….’get me with me soldier speak’,…Brillcream…Check,…. Slingbacks, well, you never know!… Check’.

I was half way out the door when I thought,….’Bleedin Hell! I forgot me boiled sweets!…can’t go on a trip without some’in to suck on’!

Three hours later, somewhere over Germany the pilot come’s over the tannoy,…..

‘OK Chaps 3 minutes to drop zone’,

Bloody Hell! I thought

‘you’d better prepare yourselves for the jump’

He sounds like that man on the BBC, I thought,

‘You may recognise my voice… I was with the BBC’

Didn’t stop me from a near miss in me combats though.

It was time, …we all stood up in a line and hooked ourselves up…. I was too nervous and me hand was shaking that much I couldn’t get me hook on…. never mind, I’ll pull it off meself when I get out.

As the line got shorter, me legs got wobblier, until, it was my turn. I looked down out of the doors… it was pitch black, I couldn’t see a thing, ‘how are we supposed to find where we’re going if we can’t', ….I felt a push and then the noise of the air whooshin past me at a hundred miles an hour. Bloody hell!!!!!, me chute, me bloody chute!!!……. I knew there was somethin I needed to tell the Sergeant….I forgot me Rifle!…NO! Me chute didn’t open… I HAD forgot me rifle, but I weren’t bothered about that right now. What was I to do?… then, at that moment of sheer panic, it all clicked in to place, all that time trainin, I knew exactly what to do…. I felt ever so proud…..So I pulled me cord as hard as I could,…several times,….success!, …out flew me parachute. I didn’t ave a clue where I was, and I couldn’t see a bloody thing, but i felt wonderful, empowered, all me trainin in those few seconds came back to me. I can just hear me dear old Mum now….’Ooh you are a clever boy’, she’d say, pinchin me cheeks and rufflin me hair. I was in a world of me own up there, smiling to me self,. Then! All of a sudden,… I was jerked back somethin rotten…. nearly did meself a damage what with that harness cradlin me privates… and then I looked….. Oh my good god!’…..I was only hanging from a flag pole on the roof of The 3 Reich HQ. Hangin there… like a puppet… waitin for me strings to be pulled….. I was just about to bang me button when……

Ooh! Ello! I said,…..(tryin to compose meself and look demure)…….

Hans: ‘Who is der!’, ….(he said in a commandin voice., cockin his rifle).

Nigel: ‘It’s me..I’m up here’…….. (Oo I felt a right burk)…..

Hans: ?’Ver’,

Nigel: ‘Up here,.. On the flag pole love’,… (well he nearly died of fright when he looked up and saw me stuck up there like a fairy on the top of a Christmas tree)…..’

Hans: Voss are you doing up zer?’

Nigel: ‘I was just passin love… thought I’d drop in’….(well… what was I supposed to say!)

Hans: ‘Get’un zee downen’ …..(he said, pointin his rifle at me).

Nigel: ‘I would’ ….’Only I’ve tried tuggin me button, but it won’t come… couldn’t give us an hand could you?

Hans: ‘J’a, of course,… Nien! Englander!, you are a prisoner of war and I must take you to my Commandant!

Nigel: ‘Oooh, don’t be like that’… I’ve been stuck up here for ages and I swear I’ve got chaffin round me nethers.

Hans: Vait a minute zen,

He gripped me button and gave it a good tuggin, and before I knew it, I’d fallen into his big strong arms,…our faces touchin. We stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. I could see straight in to his soul….. Nice.

Nigel: Aint you got beautiful blue eye’s

Hans: Danka

Nigel: And lovely, thick, wavy, blonde hair

His nose wrinkled when I said that, must be a bit shy, …Ooo!… I love a bit of vulnerability in a man.

Nigel: What’s your name?

Hans: Hans.. vait! Stop! You are confusing me!… Zey told us dat in training camp, you English are tricky und vill stop at nassing to confuse us!

Here we go I thought…

Nigel: Your confused now are you, well I should have known…. Thought it was too good to be true!Me Mother warned me about men like you…givin off signals then twistin em around!

Hans: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…………

Nigel: No! You never do, your sort!

I went off in a huff, sat down and took me boots off, corr they was hurtin. All that hangin around had made the blood settle in me feet. I was rubbin me balls when,…….

Hans: Here, let me….

He came over, lookin all broody and strong, picked up me feet and started to rub….. OH, MY, GOD!!!!!…. I’d never felt anythin like it in the whole of me life…. GOOOOD GOD!!!… I could have stayed there all war.

Hans: My farter voss a shoe maker so I know about feet and how you must look after zem. Zees boots,… are not good for your feet……. Zer, all done.

Nigel: No don’t stop.(I said)

But he had finished, as was I,…completely wasted,… no good to man nor beast.

Hans: Voss is your name?…….(here we are, I thought…. down to business)

Nigel: Pocklinton, err err Nigel…..wait a minute!… your tryin to confuse ME now!….. Private Pocklinton 723865, and that’s all your gettin out of me….. you can torture me all you like… I won’t say a word!

Hans: Torture you? I only vonted to know your name…..

Nigel: Oh,…(feelin a bit sheepish)… well then… why didn’t you say so………….. Nigel, its Nigel. Pocklinton, Nigel Pocklinton.

Hans: Hans Grubber, very nice to meet you….. ‘Old Chap’

Hahaha, we both fell about laughin, him tryin to do an English accent and me with me melodramatic strop, Hahaha.

We must of been there for hours, talking, lookin at the stars,… listnin to the RAF Flyin over head, bombs explodin everywhere, but none of that seemed to matter….

I’d taken me Slingbacks out me bag and put them on, well you need a bit of comfort. Hans thought they were lovely. Midnight Blue with Diamanties tracing the line from me little toe up the outside to the strap. He said he had a pair similar in Gold, with silver and Pearl embroidery and solid silver clasp fastener, His Dad made them for him for his 21^st Birthday. It was lovely…

Hans: Vi are you here any vay?

Do you know, I’d completely forgot I was on a Mission.

Nigel: Oh Yes! I knew I was here for a reason… Hang on a minute, I’ve got it written down somewhere,….. Thats it!, I’m here to kill a… Mr A Hitler.

Then all of a sudden, the mood changed! Gone was the tender, handsome man, replaced by a common ‘o’ garden German soldier!

Hans: UNCLE ADOLF!!!, OH MEIN GOD! VAS IS DA TIME….. SHEIZA,SHEIZA, DAS IS YOUR FAULT ENGLANER!…COMEONZIONNEN! YOU MUST COME VIS ME!

Nigel: Oooo! You changed your tune, one minute holdin hands in the moonlight, the next its Do This, Do That… Don’t whether I’m comin or goin with you!

Hans: NO! You don’t understand…..

Nigel: I THINK I Dooo!

Hans: NO! NO!…. IT IS MY UNCLE!… ADOLF!… He vil be vunderink ver I am!

Nigel: UNCLE ADOLF!…

Hans: YA, YA! He vil be……. Vait a Minuten!… You are on a mission to KILL mine Uncle Adolf!

Nigel: Yesss…. ang on, did you say UNCLE ADOLF… As in Uncle Adolf Hitler?

Hans: YA! YA!

Nigel: Well, in it a small world.

Hans:, Kvik, I must take you too him.

Nigel: Oh aint that nice… Introducin me to the family already, YOUR keen aintcha!

I gathered me stuff and we went, hand in hand like two star-crossed lovers in the first flushes of young love.

Eight flights of stairs!, nearly broke me neck in these heals. When we reached the basement, the ‘Bunker’ as Hans called it, amazin what different words we have for the same thing I thought.He told me to wait outside.

Hans: Vait here.

Nigel: Ooo, I love it when your masterful

He knocked on the door and went in. There was a mirror on the wall, so I took advantage and checked meself. Suddenly the door opened and Hans reappeared.

Hans: Comeonzeinnen!

Nigel: Don’t mind if I do Love.

I entered the room, and sat there on a Chaise Long in a lovely deep red dressing gown and a beautiful pair of ruby slingbacks, listening to Jazz on his Gramophone was none other than the man himself, ADOLF HITLER!

Hans: Uncle, ze Englander I vos telling you about.

Adolf: Comeonzeinnen… sit…Glass of Vine?

Nigel: Don’t mind if I do Mr H.

Adolf: So!, Hans tells me you are here to kill me are you

I looked over at Hans.

Nigel: Tell Tail Tit!….Well…. yes,… in a way….. It wasn’t MY choice, I thought I was going to the Concert Party…. Got the shock of me life when they put me in the Paratroop Regiment.

Adolf: And how do you propose to do zis visout a Gun?

Nigel: Well, you’d never believe it… I was packin me bag to come here, when the Sarg started is shoutin thing he does, put me right off me concentration, I even forgot me boiled sweets!, lucky though, I remembered um and went back,… can’t travel without me sweets,… gives me summin to suck on, takes me mind off things. I’m not good traveller.

Adolf: So, you are veaponless.

Nigel: All I have is me wit and me charm

Adolf: Und a lovely pair of shoes.

Nigel: Charmer

Adolf: Ya, dat iz a sad misconception of me, I don’t understand vy I am portraid as a Tyrant!. Look at me, I like American Jazz, French Vine, YOUR Shakespeare, und I like ladies clothes. I am not ze monster zat i am made out to be, so vy do you vont to kill me?.

Nigel: Wellll!,… I feel a bit stupid now,…. Hang on, I do remember the Serg sayin somethin about you wantin to invade Britain, and……. Oh yes, that’s it! Me Mum said before I left to join up. ‘You make sure you give that Hitler bloke a good seein to!, It was Im that bombed our ouse’!

Hans: UNCLE!

Adolf: Shutenziuppen Hans! How vos I to know it vos HIS house!

Hans: Sorry Uncle.

Nigel: Oh don’t blame yourself Mr H!… You wer’nt to know…. Aww… don’t cry!… Its alright, she’s fine…didn’t like the old place anyway… been on at the Council for years to get a new house. She’s In a Pre-Fab now, lovely little place, she’e got it lookin right homely what with the bits and pieces the neighbours gave her, and the Sally Army have been ever so helpful! They gave her some lovely wallpaper…. Green with little Birds on it, sittin on Figleaves…. So don’t you go worryin yourself, happy as Larry she is…… Here, have a Boiled Sweet… Make you feel better.

Adolf: Danka, you are very Kind.

Nigel: Don’t you even mention it Mr H

Adolf: Vas Is Das Sveet…. It iz vunderbaa!

Nigel: Mint Balls… Uncle joe’s Mint Balls, nice aint they?

Adolf: Ya!

Well I couldn’t believe it! There I was Sharing me Uncle Joes with very man I was sent here to knock off! When all of a sudden he started bleedin chokin didn’t he. Slappin his chest and barkin like dog. Well I didn’t know where to put me self, Hans was running round the room shoutin

Hans: ‘Uncle Adolf! Sheiza! Uncle Adolf!.

So I leapt up and started pummellin him from behind, bangin away like a good’un I was, well I didn’t want him dyin with one of me balls in his mouth! All of a sudden, Hans starts goin at it from the front shoutin

Hans: ‘FUCK ME! FUCK ME!

Poor Mr H, He was goin up’n'down like a whore’s draws. Then all of a sudden he just keels over… DEAD!….

The Strange…’ARSE!!…Case of John Tourette

It was the evening of 24^th of October 1642, the day after the bloody battle at Edgehill. Long into the night I was still attending the wounded from that most horrific of encounters. Working for the Parliamentarians under the tyrannical rule of Oliver Cromwell, I found my belief in our Lord God waning. How could someone, in whom we put so much love, trust and faith, someone to whom we Worship?, destroy those He professes to love and be ‘thy saviour’ of.

 Brave men with the most horrendous injuries I had ever borne witness to, limbs blown away, stomachs ripped open like fatted pigs at slaughter, eyes that will never more gaze upon their loved one’s, nor witness the beauty of a setting sun, neither the perfection that IS Mother Natures splendour. All this, for the greed and control of one tiny nation and the honest folk whom reside therein. Whatever my thoughts, feeling, now was not the time to contemplate mine own, place in this sordid war or question the wisdom of others who profess to be doing the Lords work, mine was to tend the sick and the wounded.

 After fourteen hours of constant blood and guts, amid the stench of death, and the choral voices of the dying, moaning in a symphony of pain and anguish, I was presented with the most intriguing case of my medical career to date.

 As I staggered to my tent, exhausted, stained with the blood of a hundred men and drenched in sweat, deeply affected by what I had borne witness to on this day, I heard the cries of the guards patrolling the perimeter.

 ‘Lord av mercy.!…. poor sod!…..how can he still be alive! ……My God!, what was to befall mine eyes? What cruelties of bloody war, GODS WAR, were to present themselves? Nothing surely can surpass this day’s nightmares!…………… I was wrong!……………

 For two days, this poor wretched soul had wandered the battle field, alone, without comfort or succor, carrying around this most sickening of injuries, barely alive, almost, The Undead!

 As he reached me, bloodied, soaked in the rancid concoction of blood from a thousand men and the mud from the battlefield, he fell to his knee’s, head bowed as if kneeling at the altar in prayer, prayers I thought would not help him now. I gathered him in my arms and took him to my operating table, his eyes wide as if pleading with me to save his life. My heart sank to depths It had never reach before. What was I to do for this poor soul?…….his injuries were something I had never come across, my medical expertise did not extend to this level of disfigurement,…..’how was I to give this man hope when I myself had lost all hope of ever saving him?.

 As I lay him down, his mouth seemed to tremble as if forming words. I lowered my head and positioned my ear to his mouth in the vain hope of hearing perhaps, his last words, words that may, somehow, comfort those he would leave behind. His slow stuttering breath was inaudible. Bathing his lips with water I Lent closer, praying to god that I could hear, that I may give him peace in his final moments, peace so that his tormented soul could rest. Once again I took him in my arms, tenderly stroking his face, awaiting the moment his eye’s closed for the last time……………. ‘Hush now’…I whispered, smiling down on him,…..‘save your strength’, your war is over my friend,…..He mouthed some words that again were inaudible to mine ears,…..’ make peace with your god’ and sleep now…..

 My heart sank once more, rage welled up inside me, I raised my eye’s to the heavens and cried, ‘Why?!…why have you done this?!……. Holding him to my breast, a tear running down my cheek, his eye’s open wide, staring as if in fear of the fate that awaits him, coughing, his blood spattering my face……

 ’ARSE‘!!!!!!!……….What did this mean?………’BUM CLAGG’!!!!, He shouted as his body spasmed into…. ‘TITS’!!,…life, legs stiffening, arms stretched in front, fists clenched tightly. I carefully placed his head back down on the table, rejuvenated by his strong will to… SHAG!!,… live, I vowed to do all that was in my power to save him!.

 Removing his breast-plate and loosening his….’ BALL SLING!!!… blood soaked blouse, I listened to his heart, it was Strong as a….’MAN STAFF!!!’….. oxen!. I felt a surge of….’LOVE MUCK!!!,… joy,… this,.. man,.. to all intents and purposes, dead, had shown unbelievable courage and an even stronger ‘COCK!!!’…. will to live, I could not fail him now.

 ‘M..M..MM…MAN CREAM!!!’….. he cried, his body again spasming into ‘MUFF FLEECE’!!!….life.

 What was this strange affliction?. I started to remove the cannon ball that had lodged itself square in the middle of his forehead. How could one man withstand the impact of an 8oz….’TIT’!!!… granite ball, square in the…’ARSE’!!! …. face!.

 Withstand it he did, and now, 20 years on, John Tourette, back in the bosom of his family, working the land, lives an almost normal life. Afflicted still by the events of that day and what is now known in medical circles as ‘Tourette’s Syndrome’, the one regret I have, was my inability to surgically remove the helmet that had embedded its self in Johns head, the helmet that to this day remains in situ and worn with pride.

The Storm

It was exactly a month since Father died and I found myself alone, the last of the family line, the last remaining soul in this house, a house too large for one person, a house once full of laughter and singing.

Having secured the doors and windows, I ventured up to my room, a single candle  flickering in the draught of the vast hall way and lighting my way as I ascended the large staircase. I entered my room, it was cold and unwelcoming, and now  seemingly devoid of life, as did the rest of the house, as did the rest of my life.

I placed the candle on the window ledge, its flame dancing in time with the increasing ferocity of the storm and a wind that seemed to sing as it pounded against the pane. Rain beating down with the sound of a thousand drums as it clawed like waves on the headland as it grasped at the rocks below. I remembered as a child, Father would comfort us on nights such as this, telling us to count between the flash of lightning until we heard the rumble of thunder, the ever-increasing numbers signalling the eye of the storm getting further and further away.

As I watched the storm, a flash of lightning gave me the briefest glimpse of a shadowy figure out on the moorland. I stepped back in fright caught between fear and the need to see it once again, to make sure my eyes did not deceive me. Again the lightning struck, more fierce than before, and again the shadowy figure stood alone on the desolate moors, closer this time. I blew out my candle… what would I do?, there is no one around, the nearest village is 12 mile south-east from here,….my mind began to o’er take my senses, sending me into a panicked state. Why was he here, and what did he want?!

I ran down the stairs to the drawing-room, opened the cupboard where Father kept his rifles, shaking in fear. I somehow managed to load his hunting rifle, suddenly, four large bangs on the front door, I turned sharply, knocking over the picture of Aunt Maude, my Fathers Sister, with the Grizzly Bear she had stalked for two and a half months before it finally succumbed to her relentless tracking and a single bullet. Frozen to the spot, I could not bring myself to move toward the hall. Again, four loud bangs on the front door, I had to move, to face this fear and confront this stranger. Gun in hand I slowly moved toward the drawing-room door and into the hall. A noise from the side of the house startled me,…. he was move around the house, looking for a way in! Oh Lord God! in your infinite mercy…… FOUR LOUD BANGS! this time coming from the doors at the rear of the house!…. Had I locked that? I couldn’t recall. standing alone in the hall, the only light coming from the storm outside……. Where was he now?….. shaking, I started to see shadows in every corner with every flash of lightning…….. Suddenly from behind me, the pounding started again at the main door, this time louder and more intense than before. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and walk slowly toward the huge Oak doors that separated us. Gun loaded and ready to fire in an instant, i turned the key and opened the door……………………..

Sorry to bother you love, but have you ever thought about double glazing?, On nights like these, you could really feel the benefit…….. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve had a look around, and I’m pleased to say.. we can offer you a discount, Buy one Get one free…… what do you think?, can I leave you my card?

Jack the Ripper,NOT!

I stumbled out of the tiny ram shackled theatre in the bowels of the East End of London, my head spinning, sweat pouring profusely down my forehead. I loosened my cravat gasping for the cold night air. It was no use, my breathing became more and more difficult,………  I had to light my pipe!

Aaahh….Mellow,… Like a breath of fresh air, I imbibed more and more, sucking harder and harder, breathing easier and easier. As I stumbled along aimlessly,amidst the tumbledown grey buildings of this cesspit, peering into the gloom of the now descending mist, half lit in the yellow haze of the gas lamps,… angry,,,, feeling  cheated of my twopence halfpenny entrance fee, paid in good faith! to watch a revue of  ’soundly crafted songs’  from an alleged ‘songbird’!

Suddenly!, from the shadows of a nearby alleyway, a scream!, then the heavy, plodding sound of someone running…..running fast, as if escaping from some hideous crime scene. Momentarily, amid the ever thickening fog and urine yellow gaslight,  I saw the shadowy figure of what seemed to be a man in top hat and tails running as if in fright.

Wait! I said to myself, the words inaudible to the human ear, yet visible by the eruption of warm breath on cold night air. That’s not a man! It’s Jac….Jac….Jaaaaccc!

 It was no good, my breathing seemed to be worsening in the damp night air…….. I lit my pipe again, instantly regaining the ability to breath, the rush of nicotine spinning my head into clarity once again.

 I whispered to myself…… Jacquelynn Le Rapier! the ‘Star’ of the theatre revue I had stumbled out of…… Stop! I screamed….. I would get my twopence Halfpenny if it was the last thing I do. Sto…(cough, cough) I broke down again, my throat stinging…. Stop! Jac…. (cough), JAC…..my voice tailing off, ….. le rapier!

As if in an instant, from every alley, street and Bar!  like a stampeding herd of Penguins,…. a dangerous sight, yet strangely magnificent in standard blue Metropolitan issue uniforms and matching hats…. boots, gleaming, and truncheons like Felice’s standing to attention.

It was only Twopence Halfpenny, but under the circumstances, I needed all the help I could get in apprehending this…….scandalous excuse for a singer,…. cabaret she ain’t!

 As I ran faster and faster, the distance between me and my money shortened with every step, confidence building to a euphoric level, and the comforting sound of the countries finest Police officers running in support, two abreast in a line that seemed never ending , shouting Stop! stop! like a choir of Welsh Miners in hot pursuit….. God I love this City!… 

Finally I was within touching distance of this, this, ‘vocal fiend’ and with one last effort I pounced, only to be outdone by the boys in blue, who in a mass leap, reminiscent of a pack of jackals downing their prey stole my prize.

Great Cheers of delight rang around the streets, much congratulating and back slapping went on…… all this for such a small price!….my heart swelled with pride, a fine job I exclaimed! Jacquelynn Le Rapier was finally apprehended!

From behind me, a deep voice of authority seemed to ring in my ears for an eternity. It was the Sergeant from the Metropolitan Police, East End Division.

In a thick East End accent, that was in some way, comforting, if a little harsh on the vowel sounds, heavy on the consonants and almost no diction whatsoever, …..  He said…

‘Jac-Lynn the Rippaaa?, did oi jus ear you roight Sir! Jac-Lynn the Rippaaa?

‘No Sergeant, I said… Jacquelynn Le Rapier…….. you see Sergeant, there’s a differ….

Na you di’nt,… he said, rudely interrupting,…’you sed Jac…..

‘It doesn’t matter what I said, merely the fact that you have apprehended this…. ‘thing’..

‘But, but,…. he stammered, my confidence draining with every wrongly pronounced syllable.

‘We woz unda de apprehention da we woz ot on de eewls of dat no-torious villain an namba wan wont-ed feind… Jack the Ripper!

Raising my eyebrows skyward I said,…… ‘I do not know, whom, gave you that idea my dear Sergeant’… ‘I was in pursuit of this woman for the return of my Twopence Halfpenny admission fee, cruelly taken from me by wanton deception under the trades discrimination act, for falsely advertising herself as a, and I quote, ‘Singer of Finely Crafted Song’s from Repertoire of Melodic Parisian Love Songs’, Sergeant! I give you…Not Jack The Ripper, but!, Jacquelynn Le Rapier!….. THE BUTCHER OF EAST LONDON  VAUDEVILLE !!!!!!!!!……..

Meanwhile….. Back in Hanbury Street, East End London!

The little Bastard!

What had gone wrong! how could it have been such a disaster. I sat up all night going over and over my routine, Nothing! but nothing!, had changed these 25years, so why was it such a failure.

I sat at my mirror and composed myself, applied the moisturiser and then the sealant. My character, already predetermined, was being constructed before my eyes. First, the nose, the most facial altering feature, then, the brow. A new chin followed by facial hair, eye brows, a beard. Once set, I apply the make-up, finishing with the hairpiece and glasses. Today I have aged 30 years in a matter of minutes, a  necessary device for the work i am employed to do.

At six o’clock sharp I leave the house, 3 minute walk to the bus stop, dressed in a 1950′s double breasted suit, blue, and a full length Mackintosh, brown, with matching Trilby hat. I board the bus, and take the ride to the tube station 5 minutes away. I could walk to the tube, but being amongst people gives me the confidence that I look OK, nothing out of the ordinary, a nobody, someone who could mingle with the crowd without suspicion.

Alighting the bus, I make my way through the crowd to the tube, buy a paper and some mints, again it is more of a confidence thing, I certainly don’t need the mints, my bag is full of them. Boarding the tube train I go through my routine again in every minute detail. Place, time, subject, escape, preparation and timing is everything in this line of work, one slip and everything fails, and to date, I have never failed, never had to abort a job and God willing, never will. 

As I leave the tube station the fresh air hits me, the buzz of life around me is exciting, exhilarating, I feel alive and refreshed. Then, within moments all is silent, I hear nothing, see no one, I am totally focused on the job in hand.

Reaching my destination I check all around before entering, sometimes I take a walk around the building, checking and double checking that I haven’t been followed. Walking in, hoping not to arouse suspicion, quietly make my way upstairs, I usually enter via the rear, but this time feeling confident, enter through the main doors. People are milling around, coming and going, porters helping guests, the concierge being hounded by an irate customer, no one takes any notice of me. I slip quietly to the first floor then get the lift to the top floor. Making my way to the emergency stairs and through the Staff only door to the roof.

Checking my watch, I have 30 minutes, long enough to set up my equipment, check the location and double check the subject. Positioning myself behind the bell tower gives me the best view of everything, the subject, traffic, people numbers below.

Twenty minutes, I take out my equipment and set it up, positioning it at the subjects window directly opposite. He should arrive home at 7.30pm, take off his jacket and loosen his tie, move towards the drinks cabinet and pour himself a large single malt, sip it on the way to the bathroom, turn on the shower and return to the living room, moving toward the window where he sips his whiskey and looks at the world below. It is at that point that my work is done. I then gather my things, making sure not to leave any traces of my being there and exit the building in a calm manner. I usually take a walk or catch a movie before returning home, make a nice cup of Horlicks, kiss the wife and retire to bed.

Five minutes, I can see the subject entering the building, he’s early, shit! puts my schedule out, I hate that! inconsiderate bastard!. Never mind, the sooner its done the sooner I get home and resume a normal life.

The hall light is turned on, he enters the living room switching the light on as he takes his jacket off and loosens his tie, at least he’s done that bit to plan. With my sight trained on him, following his every move I watch him pour his night cap. He moves towards the bathroom and switches on the shower, ‘good boy, that’s the way, stick to your routine’. Sipping his drink, he moves toward the window for his nightly look at the world below. Now is the time, I have him in my sights, Finger on trigger, ‘goodnight my friend’, I squeeze it gently, all will be over in a second. I pull the trigger!……………… Nothing!, no muffled shot no shattering of glass, no dead subject!

Panicking I lift the rifle, turning it this way and that, checking it feverishly, WHY! why had it not fired, looking over at my subject, he is still at the window, I Shoulder my riffle and take aim again, this time a free shot, standing upright for all to see, I have never failed never!, sweat pouring down my face, a tremble in my arm, focus! focus!, I aim again, he is in the cross-hairs, I can’t miss, its now or never, squeezing the trigger once more I could see in the sights a jet of water discharging from the end of my riffle………….. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!.. I’ll kill him the little bastard, just you wait and see if I don’t.when I get home, I’m gonna tan his little backside for him!, how many time have I told him……… DON’T TOUCH DADDY’S GUNS!!!!!!!…………. Hang on a minute,… If I’ve got his replica AK47  modified water cannon assault rifle, what the fuck has he taken to school !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Escape at all costs

It was dark enough now to start tunnelling. I was going to escape, at all costs. As I dug my hands became raw and bloodied, only the thought of my pregnant wife and two beautiful children,waiting for me at home spurred me on. Suddenly a noise from above my tunnel entrance, my mind spun, I could not be caught, not now, not when I am so near to the perimeter fence. I stopped and listened intensely. They had moved on, thank God, for my fate would surely have been sealed if discovered.

Needing air, I crawled back outside, using the cover of darkness to conceal my whereabouts. Suddenly, a gravelly voice, unfriendly in the extreme shout in a language uncommon to mine ears. Caught, but glad my work had been left undiscovered, I was marched at gunpoint and thrown into a cold unwelcoming room, furnished only with a single chair and an unshaded light. The door slammed shut and locked behind me. What was to become of me? Thoughts raced around my head, fear gripped me in the extreme. The only thing that kept me sane alone in that room was the thoughts of my dear sweet family, and the day I would be reunited with them.

Hour after hour passed, no sign of the interrogation I was expecting. As the dawn broke, sending a shaft of light through the grilled bar’s of my concrete cell, I could hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching. Three Set’s in unison, marching toward me. Then the key in the lock, the chains dripping to the floor like a metallic serpent. The door flung open, and in stepped three solidly bult men in uniform, surely this was it, the start of hell. I would not crack, they would see no emotion on my face, my stiff upper lip would not quiver and would not give the position of my rout to freedom away.

The tallest of the three spoke. How very decent of him to speak in English, and with an almost apologetic tone…… I AM SO SORRY SIR. To have have locked you in over night, I can only apologise. We did a number count when all the visitors had gone,it tallied with number of tickets sold so we didn’t know you where here! I wouldn’t fancy being left in the museum all night, creepy. We’ve ordered some breakfast for you, and then we will get a taxi to take you to your hotel, oh and a free family pass to any one of our attractions anywhere in the country.

Liberation! you have no Idea my friend.

Come ride with me

‘Come ride with me’, she said,

 and how could I refuse.The dawn was rising and the early morning Sun kissed her breasts as it’s golden ray’s filled the arched window that sat at the foot of my bed. Dressed only in a white cotton gown, her naked body was visible underneath.She WAS a goddess, a perfect creature, only God in his true splendor could have made such a beauty as she.

As I threw back the sheets that enveloped me, I hastily pulled on my britches before her gentle and most delicate hands pulled me toward the door. Seeming to float down the staircase and across the Cathedral like hall to the front door, half naked, we ran to the stable’s. Mounting are steeds we set off toward the lake, the cold air rushing past our unclothed skin, breath seeming like dragons smoke as it tumbled out of our mouths.

Finally we reached the lake. A fog drifting across in the early morning, birds finally awaking and the sometime sound of fish jumping. We dismounted and stooped down to the fresh, ice cold waters of the lake. Bathing my lips with her fingers, she suddenly stuck them up my nose, poked me in the eye and kicked me in the nuts. I went down like a baby, clutching my nads and wailing, half in the icy water. As I looked up, she had mounted her horse,and with cursory glance spoke. ‘you ever creep into my bedroom again, ya pervy get!, and I’ll chop ya knackers off!’

Fair enough I thought, but hey! he who dares, gets fair maiden.