The Darling Buds of June

by Frankie Lassut

  ***

  So, you the reader want to see the gravestone where Stan and Gillian are buried? Well ok, but as it was gone before this project began, here is my impression as told me by my mole.

  Here then is what I’m told the burial stone looked like. No names? Well no, it wasn’t quite a pauper’s grave. Or was it? How do you know Gillian and Stan are buried there? Personally, I just ‘do’ ... it’s like the lady who recently discovered Richard III grave in the Leicester car park ... there was an R painted on the ground above it, and, well, she just ‘knew’. Obviously, a new gravestone would have their names on it, wouldn’t that be nice?

  Afterword

  I don’t think the people in Alcester like being made into a joke, because absolutely no help was offered. Well, I say that, on lady did promise ... it was and then members of the local cult must have had a word in the helper’s ear ... as a result, it was withdrawn. Some you win, some you lose. At least I tried. Anyway, thank you for reading my little venture into the creative process. I did plan a sequel, but as I’m all on my own with no help, I’ll never get by.

  ***

  But, here’s that little treat I promised you, the verse from Hammy the pig. The picture? I went to a car boot sale with Evo and I came across a set of pigs, they were a perfect match to the pencil sketch. What a co-incidence eh?! It’s written in pig with the translation into human so you can understand it.

  ‘Oink, oink, oink, oink, oink, squeal,’

  The eye of heaven hangs in the sky.

  ‘Oink, oink, oink, oink oinnnnkkkk!’

  Hot and shiny as a gold doubloon,

  ‘Oink squeal! Squeal! Squeal! Oink?’

  But, where dost thou come from o noisy, smelly wind?

  ‘Squeal, squeal! Squeal! Oink, squeal!’

  That shakes the darling buds of June.

  Hammy is on the left.

  ***

  ALCESTER HAMLET COUNCIL CABINET MEETING

  A RIGHT HONORABLE MEMBER:

  “I PROPOSE THAT WE GET MR LASSUT, LAST SOOT, LATUTT, OR WHATEVER HIS BLOODY NAME IS, AND BURN HIM IN ONE OF OUR SMALL COUNTRY TOWN ‘RITUALS’. WE COULD TELL OUTSIDERS THAT IT WAS A SCARECROW AND OUR CROPS HAD FAILED. SAY ‘I’, ANYONE WHO AGREES!”

  “I! I! I! ... ETC”

  “MOTION CARRIED!”

  “HURRAH! BURN HIM! BURN HIM!”

  “Erm … can we turn it into a barbecue? May as well.”

  ***

  ‘STRATFORD’ COUNCIL, SPECIAL POSH MEETING WITH TOP TABLE CHAMPAGNE, DEVOID OF COMMONERS (THEY MUST NOT KNOW WHAT WE DO IN PRIVATE MEETINGS!)

  BROTHER AND SISTERHOOD OF THE CLOVEN HOOF CLUB

  “O GREAT ONE, WHO HELPED ‘OUR’ BELOVED, LUCRATIVE BARD; PLEASE HELP US NOW TO ‘SORT’ FRANKIE LASSUT. HELP US PLACE HIM IN STOCKS AND HAVE HIM PUBLICLY FLOGGED … OR, CAN WE THROW HIM TO THE SWANS FOR THE AMUSEMENT OF THE LOCAL ‘UGH’ COMMONERS AND THE LUCRATIVE TOURISTS? WHAT IS YOUR BIDDING O HORNED AND CLOVEN HOOVED LORD OF THE FIERY UNDERWORLD!?”

  Squeak! (She plunges the sacrificial dagger into the heart of an assumed virgin hedgehog someone caught on the way to the meeting).

  “DO AS YOU WILL MY DISCIPLES! AS LONG AS YOU SACRIFICE HIM TO ME AFTER HE’S HAD A GOOD FLOGGING OR PECKING! SEEMS A SHAME TO HAVE AN ‘ALTAR’ IN YOUR ‘MEETING ROOM’ AND NOT USE IT; PROPERLY! I’M NOT KEEN ON HEDGEHOGS.”

  Female member: “Thank you O Great One! Now, who will drink with me the blood of the hedgehog?!” Lesser member (Male): “Erm ... have we got no red wine, or even raspberry juice? I’m not keen on hedgehog blood. In fact, I think I’ll go home, I feel sick. Is there another litter trail to where I live? I think I’m pissed.”

  ***

  For more information see:

  www.frankie-lassut.com