It's Been a Bad Week.
Title: Laundry Blues.
Fandom: It's been a bad week.
Characters: Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis.
Prompt: 015, Blue.
Word Count: 133.
Rating: PG, laundry really isn't that racy.
Summary: Hugh hates laundry day.
Author's Notes: This is just a lame excuse for me to slip in a joke from The Mary Whitehouse Experience Encylcopaedia. Also this story is set in the dimension in which comedy double acts live together like the Morecambe and Wise sketch.
Steve paused in the act of unloading the washing machine and held his boring white pants up to the light. It had happened again and if this was what his pants looked like then he dreaded to think what had happened to his best white shirt.
It had been a running joke for years, but Steve had never quite managed to reconcile himself to Hugh’s bizarre non-ability with laundry. He glanced up as he heard something and saw Hugh had come through with mugs of tea for them both. Steve brandished the altered undergarments at his friend exasperatedly.
Hugh shook his head in mild reproof. ‘Give it up, Steve, it’s one of those things you just can’t fight. No matter what setting you use, the washing machine will still turn your pants blue.’
Fandom: It's been a bad week.
Characters: Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis.
Prompt: 016, Purple
Word Count: 398
Rating: PG - one mild swear-word.
Summary: Valentine's day is approaching and Hugh wants to say it properly.
Author's Notes: I'm a bit fluff-ful at the moment....
They’d agreed to meet in their usual pub on the Saturday before Valentine’s day to discuss the upcoming celebrations. Hugh set their pints down on the table as Steve sat by the window with a packet of pork scratchings. Hugh sighed and Steve looked over with a raised eyebrow.
Hugh sat down and pulled out several sheets of paper from his jacket pocket. ‘I’m struggling here, mate. Kate’s had a really rough time of it lately, what with her mum being ill and Freddie being fretful, not to mention my being busy with Bad Week. I want her to feel special.’
Steve noticed the way Hugh fiddled with his pen, turning it end over end in a repetitive nervous motion. Such displays were not his usual style, Hugh hadn’t even managed a self-deprecating comment about his inability to find the right way to express his affection and gratitude to his wife. He gestured for Hugh to pass over the bits of paper and skimmed the contents quickly.
‘I can understand your sentiment, and to be honest the thought alone would make her day.’ He paused for a fortifying sip of his drink. ‘It’s just that…’ here he lifted the rather mangled topmost sheet of the heavily revised love poem, ‘ “Oh blazing sun of my world, shining in the firmament of my life. How dreary are the hours spent apart” and so on and so forth.’ He peered at some of the crossings out in concern. ‘It’s a bit… florid really.’
Hugh laughed at the tactful description of the horrible thing. Somehow a simple declaration of love had turned into a Shakespearean parody of itself. He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs comfortably. Steve pushed up his jumper sleeves manfully and reached for his own pen and pad of paper. ‘Let’s get to work de-purpling this prose.’
It took another three pints, two packets of crisps and several hours of consideration before the final version was deemed acceptable, containing the appropriate sentiments without the cringe worthy delivery of the first draft. As they parted ways Hugh stopped Steve with a hand on the elbow. ’Thanks for this Steve.’
‘Rubbish, it was nothing. Anyway, it makes a nice change to work on something that doesn’t involve taking the piss out of everything. See you Monday.’
As he headed home Hugh whistled cheerfully under his breath.
Fandom: It's been a bad week.
Characters: Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis.
Prompt: 015, Blue.
Word Count: 133.
Rating: PG, laundry really isn't that racy.
Summary: Hugh hates laundry day.
Author's Notes: This is just a lame excuse for me to slip in a joke from The Mary Whitehouse Experience Encylcopaedia. Also this story is set in the dimension in which comedy double acts live together like the Morecambe and Wise sketch.
Steve paused in the act of unloading the washing machine and held his boring white pants up to the light. It had happened again and if this was what his pants looked like then he dreaded to think what had happened to his best white shirt.
It had been a running joke for years, but Steve had never quite managed to reconcile himself to Hugh’s bizarre non-ability with laundry. He glanced up as he heard something and saw Hugh had come through with mugs of tea for them both. Steve brandished the altered undergarments at his friend exasperatedly.
Hugh shook his head in mild reproof. ‘Give it up, Steve, it’s one of those things you just can’t fight. No matter what setting you use, the washing machine will still turn your pants blue.’
Fandom: It's been a bad week.
Characters: Steve Punt and Hugh Dennis.
Prompt: 016, Purple
Word Count: 398
Rating: PG - one mild swear-word.
Summary: Valentine's day is approaching and Hugh wants to say it properly.
Author's Notes: I'm a bit fluff-ful at the moment....
They’d agreed to meet in their usual pub on the Saturday before Valentine’s day to discuss the upcoming celebrations. Hugh set their pints down on the table as Steve sat by the window with a packet of pork scratchings. Hugh sighed and Steve looked over with a raised eyebrow.
Hugh sat down and pulled out several sheets of paper from his jacket pocket. ‘I’m struggling here, mate. Kate’s had a really rough time of it lately, what with her mum being ill and Freddie being fretful, not to mention my being busy with Bad Week. I want her to feel special.’
Steve noticed the way Hugh fiddled with his pen, turning it end over end in a repetitive nervous motion. Such displays were not his usual style, Hugh hadn’t even managed a self-deprecating comment about his inability to find the right way to express his affection and gratitude to his wife. He gestured for Hugh to pass over the bits of paper and skimmed the contents quickly.
‘I can understand your sentiment, and to be honest the thought alone would make her day.’ He paused for a fortifying sip of his drink. ‘It’s just that…’ here he lifted the rather mangled topmost sheet of the heavily revised love poem, ‘ “Oh blazing sun of my world, shining in the firmament of my life. How dreary are the hours spent apart” and so on and so forth.’ He peered at some of the crossings out in concern. ‘It’s a bit… florid really.’
Hugh laughed at the tactful description of the horrible thing. Somehow a simple declaration of love had turned into a Shakespearean parody of itself. He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs comfortably. Steve pushed up his jumper sleeves manfully and reached for his own pen and pad of paper. ‘Let’s get to work de-purpling this prose.’
It took another three pints, two packets of crisps and several hours of consideration before the final version was deemed acceptable, containing the appropriate sentiments without the cringe worthy delivery of the first draft. As they parted ways Hugh stopped Steve with a hand on the elbow. ’Thanks for this Steve.’
‘Rubbish, it was nothing. Anyway, it makes a nice change to work on something that doesn’t involve taking the piss out of everything. See you Monday.’
As he headed home Hugh whistled cheerfully under his breath.