Five pints of cider & a packet of crisps This story may contain adult content.

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Written by Angus Dick

Monday, 07 April 2008

Last Updated ( Monday, 07 April 2008 )

 

FIVE PINTS OF CIDER AND A PACKET OF CRISPS

Harold Hogworth sat in the pub nursing a half empty pint of cider.

 

Harold, or Hogg as he was affectionately known, was from hard-working farming stock.  He was strong from long hard days of toiling on and egging on the land to give up even a morsel of its bounty. There was never any joy in Hogg’s face.  He had all the cares in the world and he showed it.  Not tall .. just average .. just there .. in the pub .. drinking .. in his usual seat .. waiting .. on a Saturday night .. nursing a half empty pint of warm cider.

 

"Where the bloody hell is Bull, Sam, he were supposed to be 'ere an hour ago !"

 

"Seen neither sight nor sound." grunted Sam from behind the bar. "Maybe he aint finished the ploughin' as yet or his missus's chained him to the gate post again."

 

"Argh ! Argh!  very funny Sam. Watch ye don't cut yerself on that razor sharp wit".

 

"Nah Nah,  I weren't joking Hogg.  She done it last Saturday when you were off at market.  Said she had anuff of his drinkin' an womanisin' ways.  Right shrew she is."

 

Hog shifted uneasily in his seat.  Women were a complete mystery to him.  The mere mention of a woman curtailing a man's social activities brought a cold sweat to his brow.  He was a bachelor through and through.  He had almost been up the aisle over ten years ago with the widow from the neighbouring farm.  He had an idea at the time that marriage would be worth the extra four hundred acres which she would bring with her.  If it hadn't been for Daisy, his best milker, deciding to produce her offspring that very afternoon he would have been spliced and captured at two o'clock instead of being up to his armpits in cow's arse when the ceremony was supposed to be taking place.  The widow never forgave him.  He shuddered at the remembrance and took a large gulp from his glass.

 

"Seems to me", he said, "she's always puttin her foot down. What that Bull's missus needs a good seein to.  At least she would if she wasn't such an ugly cow.  There aint nuthin' worth shagging in these parts, apart from the occasional sheep that is, and they're even gettin fussy.  And, if a man can't have a swallow after long hard day behind  a plough, looking at his horse’s arse!  Anway his life wouldn't be worth livin' if a man don't get a drink of an evenin'.".   

 

"Aye, women can be bad for business." grumbled Sam.  "Never know when they're going to put down that there foot you’re talkin' about.".

 

There was a loud crash and a stream of German curses from the kitchen where Sam's wife was preparing a late supper – "How am I to cook vis dis yunk !!" she railed.  Sam flinched visibly at the tirade, knowing it was meant for him.  There would be the inevitable shouting match, tantrums, arguments and sulking later when he dared to face her.  She would tell him how she hated him for bringing her to this hovel when she could have had better.  She would shout and scream that the cooker was useless, how nothing ever worked in this god-foresaken dump, and so on, and so on.

 

 Olga had emigrated from Germany seventeen years ago with her parents.  Her "fadder" was a broom-maker who, on their arrival, founded a lucrative business in London.  They prospered quickly and moved up to a middle class suburb in the city.  "Mudder" was a complete snob of the most obnoxious noveauriche kind.  Mixed with an arrogant nature it made her totally intolerable.  Sam met them at a mutual acquaintance's house in London on one of his rare visits to the capital.  On finding out that Sam owned what he grandly, and falsely,  called a large hostelry in the country her parents promptly married her off to him within the week.  She came with a sizeable marriage settlement from her father.  Olga was unaware that her father would have paid any amount of money to get rid of her.  Sam came cheap.  Sam  gladly accepted and used it to fund his lifelong love of horses.  A run of bad luck, did he ever have any other kind ?, dwindled the pot in no time at all.  Olga soon found that running a dilapidated pub in a small farming community meant hard labour, never having much money and scrimping and scraping for what little profits they did earn.  They had no children and Olga became increasingly bitter and twisted over the years.  Her temper knew no bounds.  Sam had resigned himself to the loveless  marriage years ago and kept his head down as much as possible.  He sighed as he dried a glass and looked over at Hogg.

 

" Are ye drinkin' that cider or makin' love to it ?"

 

“I'm waiting' for Bull.  It’s his round."

 

Some of the few regular customers shuffled in over the next half hour and took their usual places in the bar.  A curse on any stranger who sat in a regular's seat, even if it was unoccupied at the time.  Sam greeted each with a series of monosyllabic grunts.  Different grunts for different customers.  Conversations started and faltered every now and then.  There were few subjects worthy  of consumption beyond the day's local gossip which  was no great feast on any particular day.  Weather forecasts were the main fare and soon petered out once each had his given his opinion and prediction.

 

George Bullman arrived just after seven.  He was flustered and they could tell that he had recently run the gauntlet of his wife's acid tongue.

 

"Where the bloody hell you been Bull ?  What the  bloody hell time d'ye call this ?"

 

Bull strode defiantly to the bar and ordered two pints of cider, ignoring Hogg's remonstrations.  "Awright Sam?  By God, you look bloody miserable !"

 

"No more than usual." grumbled Sam, his face tripping him.

 

“Chrrrist !  Always sure of a cheery welcome at the Donkey & Bucket !"  Bull quipped.  He slammed his coins on the bar just for the hell of it causing Sam to leap back holding his fat chest tightly with both arms.

 

"You're a bastard Bull, that's what you are.  A right bastard you are, scaring a man like that !!"

 

"Ah know who me father is Sam.  Which is more than some around 'ere can say." retorted Bull

 

Bull sat down opposite Hogg and banged the ciders down loudly on the table for further effect, slopping cider on the worn out table top.

 

 Sam jumped at the noise.  His heart pounded, paused and then carried on.  God!  How he wished he could get out of here.  Get a better life.   Get any sort of a life.  He was trapped.  The pub which he had inherited from his father was a millstone round his neck dragging him further down financially and emotionally every day.  It didn’t make money.  It was falling to pieces.  He couldn’t even give it away, never mind sell it !  So there he stayed, day after day, year after year, serving drink to the dregs of humanity with his ever-present German jailer torturing him and grinding him into ever smaller pieces.   He wished he could step through the back for a few restful minutes away from the boredom and these ignorant shites but the thought of coming face to face with Attila the Hun was deterrent enough to keep him within the confines of the bar.  He would face her later.  Much later.

 

"Anway, what d'ye mean – Where the bloody hell have I been, Hogg ?" - and before Hogg could respond – "I've been ploughin' the top field from sun up ‘till dinner time an the wife collared me to muck out the barn after dinner.   Naggin' bitch !!  One of these days !"

 

For all his bravado in front of the other locals Bull new better than to try to pull the wool over Hogg' s eyes.  Bull was well named.  He stood six foot two tall and was heavily built.  Hogg and him had been close friends and neighbours for too long and knew each other only too well.  Hogg, and everyone else for that matter, knew that Bull, despite his size and bullishness, was petrified of his raser-toungued wife.

 

"Aye, an’ chained you to the  gate post last week 'cordin' to roomer.  Ye daft bastard !"

 

Bull blushed and said, " Aye that's as may be but I'm 'ere now so lets get on wi' business."

 

Business, as usual, consisted of downing as much drink as possible before closing time, peppered with the bouts of meaningless conversation which rapidly deteriorated into meaningless arguments, adverse opinions and alcoholic drivel.  As the night wore on they became more and more inebriated and by closing time they had consumed enough alcohol to, as Bull would say, drown an elephant.  At the appointed hour, or thereabouts, Sam called time and set about “gently persuading” his customers to “Sod off” and let him get his “beauty sleep”.  Bull and Hogg reluctantly left the premises and set out for “the long walk home”.  This offered the opportunity of much pausing, brushing against walls and hedge rows and muttered opinions on the meaning of life.  Two steps forward and one step back!  They were creatures of habit and by the time they had reached the upper meadow hedge they were ready for their first piss.  They relieved themselves against the hedge, their heads held back at right angles to their spines, mouths wide open, staring with blurred vision towards the Heavens. The hedge at this spot showed signs of rot from frequent use.

 

"Ere. Hogg, what d'ye think of thaat ?" asked Bull waving his free hand in the general direction of Alpha Centuri.

 

"What do ah think of what ?" slurred Hogg.

 

"Thaat", said Bull pointing upwards at a large ball of blue light which had suddenly appreared, hovering above the trees.

 

"Itsh probably a spashe sship from Mars." Hogg observed, swiveling his head down and  to the left to follow the lights' descent into the upper meadow.

 

"Well that'll make a nicshe change then, Hogg."

 

They stood swaying at the hedge, mesmerised by the light which had by now come to a halt about twenty feet away and about four feet off the ground.

 

There was no discernable noise until a hissing sound broke the near silence.  Hogg and Bull were saying nothing and were rooted to the spot.  A sober person would have run like hell or hid behind the hedge.  As they watched the light they saw a ramp extending from underneath the light until the near edge reached the ground. Then there was a shape moving down the ramp as they looked on.  Slowly the shape moved out of the light and another followed.  The shapes moved slowly towards the hedge where Hogg and Bull stood, rooted to the spot,  with their forgotten dicks still hanging out, the last drops of piss hanging on the end like dew.  The leading shape suddenly spoke out.  Hogg and Bull were jolted back to semi reality, stuffing and zipping as fast as their fumbling, cold hands could manage.  They did not hear the words.  By this time their legs, with the added influence of alcohol,  would not respond to any commands.  Not a totally unknown feeling for them after a long hard session at the pub.  They couldn't run if they wanted to.  There was no escape.  The shapes moved closer.  They were both roughly shaped like humans, about five feet tall, with large darkt eyes and bluish-green skin covering their thin bodies.   They stopped a short distance from the hedge.  The taller of the two stepped forward and raised his right hand.  In a solemn but strange voice he repeated these words to Hogg and Bull.

 

"W-e  a-r-e  v-i-s-i-t-o-r-s   f-r-o-m   a  d-i-s-t-a-n-t  g-a-l-a-x-y.”

“T-a-k-e  u-s  t-o  y-o-u-r  l-e-a-d-e-r."

 

Hogg and Bull stared in disbelief.  Hogg who was slightly the more sober of the two thought that there was going to be a lot of staring in disbelief before the night was over.  He was the first to respond to the Alien's request.

 

"You're makin' a film are'nt you ?? !!",  he half asked, half stated.  Wheresh the camerashs ?   He somehow already knew the answers would be  "No" and "What cameras?"

 

The first alien repeated his statement again.

 

"W-e  a-r-e  v-i-s-i-t-o-r-s   f-r-o-m   a  d-i-s-t-a-n-t  g-a-l-a-x-y.”

“T-a-k-e  u-s  t-o  y-o-u-r  l-e-a-d-e-r."

 

All four stood looking at each other in silence.  It was a still night and all that could be heard was a low humming noise emanating from the thing hovering four feet above the upper meadow, twenty feet away.  Now it was Bull's time to speak.  In his simple-minded way, like Hogg, he had accepted the situation without needing to know the why’s and the wherefores.

 

"Well, I don't know of any leadersh round 'ere, but Sam at the pub is a licenshed vicalter .. viktular .. viccalatour ..he's a landlord and a local magisshstrate."

 

Not that Sam had ever been called upon to punish or incarcerate any of the locals for misbehavior and his position commanded not one jot of respect amongst the locals.  Still, to Bull's simple way of thinking, Sam would probably satisfy the Aliens' criteria.  He waved his right arm in a wide circle at shoulder height and pointed back down the road in the general direction of the Donkey and Bucket.  He grabbed Hogg's arm and pulled him along the road back towards the pub.  As partial control returned to their legs they made a reasonable job of walking straight.  Better than on the outward journey.  No need to let the Aliens think they had encountered a race of drunken arseholes.  Even if we are,  thought Bull.

 

He looked over his shoulder and whispered to Hogg, "They're coming."

 

They reached the pub and halted at the front door which was of course shut.  The two aliens came up and stood quietly between them.  There was an almighty crash from inside the pub.  Sounds of breaking crockery and screaming and shouting.  The aliens stepped back a few paces.

 

"I-s  t-h-a-t  t-h-e  l-e-a-d-e-r,  t-h-e  m-a-n-u-s-t-a-t-e ?"

 

"No, itsh Atilla batterin' the shite out of the leader." Volunteered Hogg.  "Not to worry, happensh all the time."

 

He hammered on the door with his fist as hard as he could to be heard above the noise inside.  There was a sudden silence and after a few minutes a voice behind the door asked,

 

"Who the bloody hell is that ?  Bugger off home !!  I’m closed, shut, locked up for the night, goin' to bed to get peace from tyrants, morons and drunkin' arseholes !!  No more drink for you here tonight !!  Now fuck off afore I really lose ma temper."

 

Bull hammered on the door again.

 

“Scham ! Scham ! Listchen ! Itsch Bull 'n Hogg. For Chrischst's schake open the bloody door.  We're not here for more booze.  We brought you two aliensch for an inter-galactic conference."

 

"Jesus Christ!  Is that best you can come up with ? I TOLD YE ALREADY, NO MORE BLOODY DRINK TONIGHT !!  BUGGER OFF YOU PAIR O' WANKERS BEFORE I SETS THE DOG ON YOU !!" Sam screamed at them through the closed door.

 

The aliens appeared to be listening intently to this discourse and before either Bull or Hogg had chance to respond to Sam's angry outburst, the smaller of the two aliens spoke out.

 

"I-s  w-a-n-k-e-r  a  m-i-l-i-t-a-r-y  r-a-n-k  ?"

 

Hogg did some more staring in disbelief at the aliens.

 

"In some cirkillshs, yessh.", he slurred.  The full effects of the alcohol were still aparent in his speech.

 

Bull turned his attention to the closed door once more.  "You haven't got a bloody dog Scham !!"

 

"NO !!  I BLOODY HAVEN’T !!  But I've got the wife and she's a bloody sight more vicious than any Rotwellier.  I'll send her out, warts an all, if you don't bugger off home and leave us to our domestic bliss."

 

“No, no, Scham !!  Look through the keyhole.  The alienschs are right in front of the door."  

 

There was a few minutes pause in the hostilities.  Then a key turned in the lock and the door opened slowly.  Sam peered through the smallest gap he could manage to fit his fat face round the partly open door while the other ninety-five percent of his nineteen stone frame stayed hidden behind it.   In the moonlight his round glasses and pasty face gave him the appearance of a big fat owl.

 

"Jesus Christ !  Are they for bloody real ??", he squawked, not at all owl-like.

 

"Coursche they are." said Bull, gently nudging the two aliens towards the door. “We found them up the road”

 

Sam stared in disbelief.  He was trying to gather his wits about him.  They had taken quite a pounding tonight, what with Olga's vitriolic tongue lashing, the flying cockery and now there were these creatures from Mars.  Hogg was first to break the silence.

 

"Bull and me.  We were pisshing in the hedge at the upper meadow when these buggersch turned up.  Nearly wet me pants.  They schay they're visitors from a dishtant galaxy and they want to meet our leader.  We told them that you are the magisshstrate.  We told them you're the leader."

 

Right on cue the taller alien stepped forward.

 

"W-e  a-r-e  v-i-s-i-t-o-r-s   f-r-o-m   a  d-i-s-t-a-n-t  g-a-l-a-x-y.   T-a-k-e  u-s  t-o  y-o-u-r  l-e-a-d-e-r.   A-r-e  y-o-u  t-h-e  m-a-n-u-s-t-a-t-e ?   A-r-e  y-o-u   t-h-e   l-e-a-d-e-r ?

 

Sam was dumfounded !  He didn’t know what to think.  Aliens !  Creatures from Outer Space !  It was unreal.  A dream, a nightmare, an hallucination !  He struggled to regain reality.  He heard Olga’s German curse in the nether regions of the pub.  That sounded real .. and yet !  Hogg farted.  There could be no mistake about that .. he gagged on the smell, blinked hard and slowly gathering his wits about himself as best he could, he drew a wide toothy smile onto his face and opened the door wide.  He squared up to the aliens and in a loud authoritive voice he boomed ….

 

"Y-e-s !  Y-e-s-s  ! !   I   a-m  t-h-e   m-a-n-u-s-t-a-t-e.  I m-e-a-n  t-h-e  m-a-g-i-s-t-r-a-t-e.  I   a-m   t-h-e  l-e-a-d-e-r."

 

He backed along the hall into the bar with his entourage of humans and aliens following him closely. He paused at the bar and, in an aside to Bull and Hogg, whispered,  "Bloody hell !!  This’re amazing.  Yeh don't get visitors from a distant galaxy popping in every day.  We need to handle this carefully.  We need to contact the authorities. We need to ---"

 

"Scchow them some  good old Britissch hoschpitality first." interrupted Hogg.

 

"Right, Right.  First impressions n’ all that stuff.  What'll we do Hogg ?"

 

"Well !  You’re the publican !  Offer them schome beer and a schnack."

 

"Right!  Right!  That'll do to start with.".  “ What’ll we give them ?”

 

"Okay Sham, lets have five pints of cider and a packet of crishps."

 

Sam poured his fat frame behind the bar poured the pints of cider,  smiling widely at the unexpected guests.  He lined the full glasses along the bar and opened a packet of crisps which he emptied into a bowl.  Hogg took charge of the next part of the proceedings, since it was his idea.  He picked up a pint of cider and putting it to his mouth he demonstrated to the aliens how to take the first large swallow from the glass.  He gestured to the visitors.  Pointing first to them and then to the glasses of cider.

 

Y-o-u   t-a-k-e   g-l-a-s-s  d-r-i-n-k   c-i-d-e-r   g-o-o-d   p-l-a-n-e-t   e-a-r-t-h   d-r-i-n-k."

 

He gave them a second demonstration, sucking in air and  licking his lips after the drink and encouraging them with more animated hand gestures to follow his lead.   The aliens stood for a moment after watching the spectacle, then picked up a glass each in their long slender hands and in unison took a large swallow of cider.   It was impossible to tell from their expressionless faces whether or not they had enjoyed their first taste of cider.   It was Bull's turn next.  He picked a crisp from the bowl, and, holding it as delicately as he could between the tips of his thumb and his forefinger and placing it delicately on his extended tongue he drew it into his mouth, crunched it thoroughly without closing his mouth and washed it down with a large swallow of cider.  He smiled and rubbed his hand over his stomach to show appreciation of the fare.  The aliens followed suit, imitating, as closely as possible, every move carefully.

 

“G-o-o-d!  G-o-o-d!”, Bull enunciated.

 

T-h-i-s   i-s   C-i-d-e-r!”  “A-n-d   t-h-e-s-e   a-r-e   c-r-i-s-p-s”

 

"This is going quite well." said Sam.  He was alert and thinking now.  "We should find which planet they come from .. for starters.".

 

While he was speaking the aliens had retreated to a corner of the bar where they appeared  to be deep in agitated communication with each other.  Sam approached the aliens with the intention of initiating a dialogue with them.  As he walked towards the them his mind was racing.  He would be famous.  His pub would be famous.  People would come from all over the world to meet Sam-the-man and to drink an eat in his pub and to listen to his stories of his meeting with the aliens.  A knighthood !  He would sell souvenirs. He would be rich beyond his wildest dreams…… .

 

He was still daydreaming the dream when Hogg shouted out.

 

"Jeezuz !  Look ! They're bloody meltin' !!"

 

All three locals stood staring in disbelief at the aliens as they bubbled and steamed and  melted away, leaving only a pile of green sludge on the bar floor and a nasty smell in the air.

 

No spoke for a few minutes.  They stared in disbelief …………………

 

"Do you think it was the schider or the crisps ?" Hogg blinked and slurred at Sam, matter-of-factly, leaning forward into his alcoholic stupor.

 

Sam stood for a moment and did some more staring in disbelief at the lumps of melted alien on the bar floor.

 

"Fucked if I know!" He replied suddenly.  "But we had better clean up this bloody mess afore Olga sees it. !”.

 

As he spoke Sam pushed his fat face close up to Bull’s and Hogg’s and whispered rasply.

 

“And mum's the word boys.  We never seen 'em."

 

“But what about the you know what, the thingy in the upper meadow, Hogg?” asked Bull.

 

“We’ll throw some shcider and crishps at it on the way home.”

Copyright 2008 Angus

Tags:  alien visit

Comments (4)

Posted by hamish2003 04-07-2008 04:44,   Five pints of lager & a packet of crisps This is my first submission.   » Report this comment to administrator » Reply to this comment...   Posted by R.E.Potter 04-07-2008 08:06,   ,,, That was a crazy story...it was hard to read the drunken slurs of the two characters, and Im not even sure I understood the ending....aliens melting? I mean, it wasnt a bad story,,it was just hard for me to kinda get in a flow.   » Report this comment to administrator » Reply to this comment... » See all 1 replie(s)   Posted by lorislittlesecret 04-07-2008 08:08,   ... It's cute....   » Report this comment to administrator » Reply to this comment... » See all 1 replie(s)   Posted by Roadkill315 04-07-2008 08:12,   ... I too found the flow a bit rough, but I hung on since it obviously contained a lot of thought. Is wanker a military rank, hilarious line.   » Report this comment to administrator » Reply to this comment... » See all 1 replie(s)

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