Thursday 3 November 2005

Knight of the Witch (part I)

 I know it's three days after Hallowe'en, but what a night. Or should I say Knight...

 There I was minding my own business, 350 feet up, slightly damp (the broom had been playing up again and wouldn't gain any more altitude so I was skimming the bottom of the clouds - I couldn't fly any lower because the damn thing kept stalling. Needless to say it hasn't been serviced yet...), wondering if it was worth flying all the way to my sister's, when out of the blue - well, out of the black - came this creature.

 Honestly, I nearly lost my lunch. Good job I didn't swerve or my Tupperware box would've plummeted earthwards spreading tuna sandwiches over half the county. Actually, they weren't just tuna sandwiches, they were tuna and paprika with ramiro peppers in ciabatta. I won't eat any old common muck, you know! It was at that moment that I decided to get some sort of rack or netting fitted to the broom to keep all my baggage safely on board. Well, that's a lie. At that particular moment I thought "SHIT! What in Christ was that?"

 Steering the broom with one hand and clutching on to my luggage with the other, I managed to stabilise my somewhat erratic flightpath. Peering through the cloudy gloom I caught a glimpse of the creature as it disappeared into the cloud above me. An ear-splitting screech filled the night air, followed by a gout of flame that vaporised the cloud around me. Smelling toast, I swivelled on the broom and saw my ciabatta, blackened and dripping molten plastic. To make matters worse, some of the melted Tupperware had dripped on to my French Fancies. Only the pink ones were left unscathed. Which was a bugger because I preferred the yellow and chocolate ones.

 There was nothing left to do but curse. So I did.

 Summoning up one of the lesser known variations of Gammer Hotley's Scathing Poker curses, I let rip in the general direction of the winged creature only to be rudely, and somewhat heavily, interrupted.

 By a falling man!

* ding dong *

 Ooh, there's the doorbell. Must dash (or beard, take your pick), it's probably the Avon lady. I'll finish the story soon...

To be continued in... Knight of the Witch (part II)

No comments:

Post a Comment

Tickle my fancy, why don't you?