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Thursday, 14 June 2007

in Which Stevie comes out to play and Tom tastes a horrid taste......

Four million, eight hundred and thirty eight and some four hundred seconds later Little Bunny Foo Foo and Mazzer were NOT in the Oxford Arms getting drunk. Accuracy is important in these matters, and an accurate statement would be that Little Bunny Foo Foo, Mazzer AND Politico Steve AND Whisky Tom and Mastic Craig were in the Oxford Arms getting drunk (as quickly as possible). It was Friday pay day, and everyone should have been happy, but confusion reigned.

“I want my pork PULLED…” shouted Stevie, “Close the US/Canada border!” declared Foo Foo, “The domestication of the Bos Primogenitus IS interesting” protested Mazzer, “No, no, no, HADDOCK!”, called Stevie. “….and I don’t just like rye cos it makes you feel funny” Tom wailed, then continued “My head hurts”. Mastic Craig was trying to sweet talk to the barmaid, Claire. Claire’s husband looked on, un-amused.

Many things had changed recently. Crazed military dictatorships had been caught lying about the military capacity of their enemies, thus undermining their credibility. Most of the barstaff of the Oxford had been fired in murky circumstances which Mastic did'nt want to talk about, and Foo Foo had learned that the Wiggles were a global franchise, not a single foursome of uniquely talented Australians. He had’nt been able to sing “Beep, Beep, Chugga, Chugga Big Red Car” with quite the same enthusiasm since this discovery.

Unfortunately at the Biggest, Poshest Architectural Millwork Project, nothing had changed. If accuracy matters, as referred to previously, then the correct description of affairs would include the words “deteriorated”, “much” and “very”. This, despite three Very Important Meetings between GAS (now renamed GASTLI – Good And Slow Lies To Installers) and our now expanded group of playmates. (It appears that the earlier incarnation was only provisional). At the first meeting, GASTLI had first promised to make things go “more betterer”. At the second meeting, GASTLI had double promised, in writing, that things “wunt git much mores worserer”. At the third meeting, JR had taken control, told everyone that he “dint uset ter had a pot wot to pee-pee in” and then started shouting at LBFF and Mazzer.

At first, Mazzer and Foo Foo thought JR was angry and jealous because they could do joined up writing better than any of the Rots, even Marky. Some time ago LBFF and Mazzer had promised Marky that they’d send him a short note “immediately” if they noticed that GASTLI had made any mistakes. This was so Marky could fix the mistakes. Mazzer and Foo Foo kept their promise, which meant that they’d had a lot of practice writing and were now quite good at it.

Later, Politico Stevie, Whisky Tom, Mazzer and Foo Foo put their heads together and thought very hard. Like a flash it came to them – JR was shouting at them because that’s how you do Business, specifically Business operated under the B.L.A.M.E Management System. Under this System, getting shouted at was to be expected – it was just a part of Business. GASTLI had shouted at Twenty Something until he had gone away. Then they’d replaced him with Wince, Whine and Complain and shouted at him. Then they’d replaced him with Algenon and shouted at him. Now, it was only right that the finger of blame should be pointed at our boys. As Foo Foo pointed out, it was no longer fair to point the finger at anyone who worked for GASTLI , because hardly any of them had fingers to point back with.

Later that day though, after Steve had had his pork pulled, Tom’s head had stopped hurting and then started again, Foo Foo had counted all the Big Red cars he could see in the car park, and Mazzer had told another fascinating story about early crop domestication, our Anglo Irish Canadian Scouse Cornish Conglomerate collectively came to the conclusion that for them, the B.L.A.M.E system was not going to help. Something had to be done.

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