50 Bales of Hay

by James Perch

  “OK, the coast’s clear. I think it’s safe to come in,” I whispered.

  Near the door seemed quite normal.

  “Oh. They have fancy dress as well,” Elaine said with interest.

  My eyes followed her gaze, to a display of various costumes, uniforms, corsets and saucy underwear. Just behind that was a section devoted to fetish gear and leather items, including an array of masks, gloves and latex clothing. Otherwise, the rest of the shop was nothing like anything either Elaine or I had encountered before. The leather-clad shop assistant nodded in our direction, as he twiddled with his handlebar moustache.

  “You need anything. You shout, yes?” he said with a friendly grin.

  I nodded back and returned a slightly uneasy grin. “Thanks.”

  “Thank you,” Elaine murmured.

  The walls behind the till were adorned with all sorts of bits and pieces; handcuffs, masks, whips and other paraphernalia that I didn’t want to stare at for too long at. Brown paper bags hung on a hook, with more lying flat on the counter, along with True or Phallus?—a card game for adults.

  “Is this a shop or a greengrocer?” whispered Elaine, gesturing towards the bags.

  We decided to move on, still in need of inspiration that didn’t involve nipple clamps. We entered the next claustrophobic room, noting the low ceiling and the letters “XXX” on the wall.

  “Do they sell mints here as well?” Elaine frowned.

  I walked over to a cabinet which had storage for hundreds of videos. Meanwhile, Elaine was examining another sign, a quizzical expression on her face.

  “It says hard core. Isn’t that what builders use under Tarmac when they’re resurfacing?” she asked.

  I pulled out a video and glanced at the cover. “I’m not sure about builders,” I said, “but there’s definitely an erection involved.”

  I slotted the video back into its place and moved along the wall. There was a typed-out sheet bearing the heading, “New in for ’92”, underneath which was a list of films based on authentic titles from the big screen.

  Last of the Brazilans

  Howard’s End

  Malcolm X-Rated

  JF&@K

  A Few Good Men (and a lot of good women)

  Bram Poker’s Dracula

  Lethal Weapon 3

  Raising Cain

  Buffy the Vampire Layer

  (Sex) Toys

  Ho’ Money

  Stop! Or My Dad Will Shoot

  Chap In

  Jurassic Pork

  Lorenzo’s Baby Oil

  The Mighty F*cks

  My Cousin Willy

  Underneath the list was a highlighted exclamation:

  Based very roughly on the book by Thomas Kenneally, we are pleased to present to you The Schindler Double Bill.

  Two great films on one title.

  Schindler’s Missed and Schindler’s Fist

  I picked up the case and turned it over.

  “Isn’t that in the wrong… Oh… ‘Missed’. I see now. Oh I wasn’t expecting that! That’s appallingly bad taste. I’ve read the book. The sequel Schindler’s Fist…Oh crikey, don’t be looking at that one either,” I warned.

  “It’s like rubber-necking at a car crash. You know it’s not right but you just can’t help yourself,” Elaine observed with a shake of her head. “Some of these films are very current. How long does it take to get them made and released?” she asked.

  “I bet they just pick random film titles and shoot off a quick one. They won’t have things like plot or acting to worry about,” I answered, sounding more knowledgeable than I felt comfortable admitting.

  Next to the new releases were more shelves partitioned into sections; classics, music, and scarily, world cinema ‘specialist’. Amongst the ‘classics’ were such titles as The Jizzer of Oz, Spooged and Sperminator 2: Judgement Day.

  Elaine picked up a random video and read it out. “Dirty Woman, starring Richard Gear and Selma Bodie? I’m sure they make these up.”

  “They’ll be stage names,” I guessed. “Would you use your real name? They probably make one up to get them noticed.” I pulled another one out and read a bit of the synopsis. “‘Splatoon: the inexperienced grunts follow the Ho’ Chi Minhge Trail only to find themselves stumbling into the officer’s mess’.”

  “Tasteful,” Elaine remarked sarcastically. She shook her head in disbelief and ushered me onwards.

  “What have we got next? Ah musicals! This should be tamer,” I said. A note written on a Post-It sticker stuck to the shelf was kind enough to inform us that ‘All Musicals come supplied with a laminated song sheet’.

  Elaine turned her head to read the titles on the spines of the videos. “Fannie and Guys n’ Blow-up Dolls.”

  “I’ve never been a fan of Annie the Musical. I can bet I wouldn’t be too keen on a ginger Fannie either.”

  “It looks like they’re trying to stay as close as they can to the original, too,” Elaine said, peering at the back, “but obviously without using orphaned kids. It says here it includes the hit ‘It’s a Hard C*ck Life’. I wonder how that could possibly be a hit? It’s not exactly mainstream.”

  “Let’s have a look at Guys n’ Blow Up Dolls. What songs are on that one? It says here: ‘F**k Me A Lady’, ‘Go Down And Stop F**king About’ and the opening number ‘Got The Whores Right Here’. That’s priceless. If only my aunt could see this, she’d flip. She loves Guys n’ Dolls. That opening number is actually called ‘Fugue for Tinhorns’ if I can be picky, not ‘Horse Right Here’,” I said knowledgeably.

  “You seem to know a lot about musicals. In a stereotypical assumption, I could guess you were gay. You’re still single, too. Why is that?” she asked.

  “I’ve just not met the right girl yet, nobody single, anyway.” I paused at this point to see if she had taken the hint. The blush that was appearing on her cheeks was enough to answer that. “As I said before, my aunt loves musicals. She has the Guys n’ Dolls soundtrack.”

  I was feeling brave so I pulled out a couple more. “Right, what have we got here?” I said, turning over the video to read the back. “Deluxe edition double bill with appearances from The Star Without A Bra herself. Featuring ‘Fiddle On The Roof’ and the heart-warming ‘Mary Pop-out’. Witness the award winning performance of Topoless as she shimmies her way through her hit ‘If I Was a Bitch, Man’. Topoless (so called due to her reputation of never being caught on film with a top on) teams up with Dick Van Dijk as a minder for a trio of young lads. Captivated by her charms, the boys daren’t put a foot wrong.”

  “Dick Van Dyke? Oh I like Dick!” Elaine said excitedly.

  “Cor Blimey, Moiry Poppens.” I exclaimed in my best Dick Van Dyke cockney accent. “I don’t think it’s the same one. I don’t recognise him on the cover. Not from behind anyway,” I said wincing. “Dick Van Dijk? This one looks Dutch.”

  “Gosh!” exclaimed Elaine with genuine amazement. “ How can you tell? By his…?”

  “By the spelling of his surname,” I interrupted. “What’s this? Another musical extravaganza? Lesbians Miserables, with Connie Lingers, Felicity ‘Flic’ Bean, Lesley ‘Les’ Bean and Minjeeta Kumar.”

  “Yet more. This time from the opera section,” Elaine said, picking out two more videos from the shelf. “Madame Buttocksfly with Nikolai Downontopovme and Turanmott featuring ‘Nessun Porna’, sung by Pablo Grotty.”

  I picked up another musical and read the cover. “How do you fancy My Fair Lady Garden, starring Audrey Carpetburn and Flex Harrison? Audrey Carpetburn portrays the character Eliza Dooitall singing the classic ‘Wouldn’t it be sexy?’ Also includes ‘I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Arse’ and ‘On The Street Where You Walk’. Popular actress, is Audrey,” I said grabbing another video case. “She’s also in Breakfast Off Two Fannies.”

  “Came-A-Lot: King Arthur’s Knights Surround Mabel. This exercise would be quite entertaining if the covers weren’t quite so graphic,” Elaine said. “Someone definitely has a sp
ark of imagination, even if it is just thinking up a tweaked movie title. What kind of person buys this filth?”

  I shrugged. “Predominantly male I’m guessing.”

  “What’s that over there?” Elaine pointed to a section of miscellaneous movies.

  I grabbed the first video in the section and pulled it out. “Thomas the Tank and Jean with the fat c**t Roland.”

  “This is destroying childhood memories,” Elaine sighed. “What sort of writer would do that? It seems like someone has just taken a load of puns and innuendo, and tried to make a story out of it.”

  A silence descended between us as we pondered the question.

  “I just had a sensation like someone had just walked over my grave,” I said with a shiver. Forging ahead, I kept reading the description. “A ménage a trois following the sexual exploits of one bored couple and their overweight landlord. Also featuring a seminal performance from the longest serving actress in the adult movie industry, Alexa Kimberley, rechristened ‘Lexa Kimbo’ by her co-star Isaac Cumming. This version comes with an additional voiceover dialogue provided by Ringo ‘Ringhole’ Starkers.”

  “Is that Noel Edmonds on the back of that one? I can’t see from here. I can only make out the beard,” Elaine asked, squinting to focus.

  “I’m afraid that’s not a beard,” I replied with a sharp intake of breath. “It could be said that I’m enjoying this,” I chuckled, “but I wouldn’t own up to that.”

  “Erm, you just did, you freak,” Elaine pointed out, exasperated.

  “What a coincidence! Talking of Freaks, here’s an Anthology of Freaks. It doesn’t say what their abnormalities are. I suppose you either have to guess what they are, or watch the video.”

  The cover didn’t give much away, it just pronounced the word ‘Freaks’ in bubble writing, like the cover of an album by Yes, Sky or another Prog rock band from the seventies. The back wasn’t much more illuminating either. All it provided was the cast list. The colourful motley crew comprised of Hung how Lo, Norma Stitz, Yehudi Nikabolokov, Wan Lon dong, Gay ping Ho, Trueley Jenny Tulls and Titiana Perrenutz.

  “Can you put that down now? I’m getting uncomfortable,” Elaine said starting to distance herself from me. “What do you think of this one? Sensual Massage-A Guide for Lovers.”

  “That could be promising,” I agreed. “It may be more of a jokey wedding gift than for a hen night, though?”

  “On second thoughts, I’m not sure if it’s suitable. The cover has a pair of hippies grinning inanely. If these are the presenters, you’d soon be turned off. It says here Dr. Robert Inn-Goode introduces the definitive guide to pleasing your partner. All techniques illustrated by the expert massage therapists Hans Ullovame and Ophelia Knightley.”

  Never one to be disheartened too easily, Elaine continued onto the next category, a small section dedicated to James Bond rip-offs. Obviously it was a genre with more scope for expansion, with 007 movies being released every few years. All films had an uncharacteristically bad description of the secret agent’s exploits with phrases proclaiming madcap adventure, and bawdy hi-jinx with hilarious consequences. At a glance, titles in the Oh Oh 7 section included Dr “O”, The Spy Who Muffed Me, The Man with the Golden Bum, View to a Thrill, Coldfinger and Thunderballs.

  Elaine’s eyes lit up and she pulled out a video. “I bet this would get the girls in the mood. Male Strippers - The Inside Story, starring Seymour Cox and Gunther Ripitopov. I’m not sure if I have the guts to take it to the counter, though.”

  “That’s one occasion where I won’t step up chivalrously to help. You’re on your own there, sorry,” I said, picking up another video. “This place caters for all tastes. Check this out. It’s called Shaven Haven, featuring stubble-free action with Shaun Downthar, Sean Bush and Nick MacBalloch.”

  “Here’s a genre that we’ve not yet encountered. Horror,” said Elaine picking up two more videos. “I don’t like the sound of Ex-whore’s Cyst, sounds painful. How about Oh Men starring Gregory Pecker? If you like a spooky story, this one is bound to give you the willies.” Stuck to the cover was a big star-shaped sticker with the words: “Homophobic warning - may contain nuts.”

  With a shake of her head, Elaine wandered into another part of the shop and carried on browsing. Her attention was caught briefly by a selection of French ticklers. I wandered over and tickled her under the arm.

  “Haw hee haw, mademoiselle”

  “That’s a terrible French accent,” she laughed.

  “Ah, but it sure did teekle you,” I said, staying in character.

  “Mais oui!”

  “It’s certainly not that funny,” I answered, “and I definitely wouldn’t go in here. Wait until you get home if I were you,” I added with a whisper. “Can you do any impressions by the way? It doesn’t matter how bad they are. Some of the worst impressions are funnier than a good one.”

  Elaine thought for a moment and proceeded to make dog noises. She stuck her tongue out and started panting and whining, followed by a woof and a howl.

  All of a sudden the overly helpful sales assistant was back at our side. He possibly heard our giggles and had come over to make sure we weren’t up to any mischief.

  “I help, da?” he asked.

  “Niet. Er…no thanks, just looking,” I answered.

  Elaine giggled again and said, “I always do dog impressions. I’m better at animal impressions than human ones. My dad says I’ve had a thing about showing off my pants since I was little and I was given a puppy. I’d tried to have a conversation with him in canine language. Poor little mutt is no longer with us.”

  “Don’t be thinking sad thoughts,” I said. “Let’s move on. What wonders will we stumble upon next?”

  A small bookcase was full of second-hand erotic fiction. I didn’t feel brave enough to peruse them without gloves so I gave them a wide berth. Alongside this there was a small selection of magazines, also second-hand. We didn’t search through those either; we were beginning to feel like our senses needed a break. The top one was enough to shed some light on what wonders lay beneath. Across the front was emblazoned the title S&M monthly. Under that was a sub-heading proclaiming ‘Spanking! Cane You Dig It? We talk to long time sado-masochists Tanya Hyde, Ivana Gudhaydn and Rod Beatty’.

  “I’m beginning to think coming here was a waste of time,” Elaine sighed.

  “You want help, da?” I said imitating the Russian sales assistant. “Ask Dmitri if there’s anything tucked away in his basement or something. Just a suggestion.”

  On the wall behind us were various implements that looked like they’d be more at home in a packet of Golden Wonder NikNaks, albeit larger versions. They sat on the shelf, brightly coloured, with knobbly bits here and there. Some of them buzzed as they rotated.

  “My sister had a battery operated friend which she kept hidden under her bedside table,” Elaine mused. “I don’t think she’d have space for one of these, though.”

  “That’s enough,” I said. “Let’s ask for help.”

  We walked up to the counter and were greeted by the helpful sales assistant with the huge grin.

  “You find what you like, da?”

  “I only came in here looking for something along the lines of willy straws or chocolate willies,” Elaine squeaked at the man.

  “Da. We keep those under the counter,” he replied with a wink.

  “You keep them under the counter? I’ve been browsing all over this place looking for them,” Elaine said, going pink.

  “Sorry, lady. No room to display,” he replied with an apologetic shrug.

  He fished under the counter for two boxes and offered them to Elaine. Gratefully, she started counting out the relevant amount of chocolates and straws and produced the money. As she was given her receipt, a punter wandered up to the counter.

  “Can I speak to the manager?” he asked shiftily.

  “He’s tied up at moment,” replied the sales assistant.

  “I bet he is,” whispered
Elaine. “Come on let’s get out of here before we’re chained to a table and whipped.”

  A View from a Hill

  Jez’s planned demolition derby was to be the final occasion of the summer that all six of us could attend. After this, everyone would return to their busy lives until the next convenient meet-up. So when I drove back to Jez’s house, I found that he was milling about feverishly. He was really looking forward to the race the next day, so we decided to check out what was in store. Jez announced that he’d drive out to the spot with Elaine and Keeley, so I jumped in Mark’s car, with him and Lorraine. Mark turned on the radio and rolled his window down. The DJ announced that the next tune was his current favourite.

  “Prepare yourselves for George Michael’s latest release. Tooooooo Funkeeeee!” he said, trying to squeeze every last drop of the sunshine out of the summer.

  Mark and Lorraine sang along to as many tunes as they knew. It certainly made the journey interesting. I particularly liked their rendition of ‘Deeply Dippy’, which they’d converted into a two part duet. I couldn’t help joining in. Before we knew it, we found ourselves pulling up alongside Jez in a lay-by.

  “We just need to wander up that path a bit to get a good look at what we’re doing tomorrow,” Jez explained.