Here it comes again...
Yes, folks, this is what I've been doing instead of Proper Writing, so far today. This and a trip into town to see the opticians 'cos my new, super-duper contact lenses never seem to want to come out.
Ow.
But here we go:
Previously in Rogue Bins: two full waste bins, one black and lidless (like the Eye of Mordor), one green, have been left by the edge of the road for months. Incensed by this blot on the landscape roadscape, our protagonist has telephoned the council…
And the council told me they’d already had several complaints. (Really? How amazing.) And they were taking action.
Oh? Oh yes. They would send letters, send Someone To Visit, even issue compliance notices.
The one thing they wouldn’t do was empty the bins.
‘Whoever they belong to,’ I said, diplomatically (because that’s another bit of hearsay and not to be presented as evidence, m’lud) ‘is obviously not missing them - can’t you just take them away, bins, rubbish and all?’
‘No. Sorry. We can’t do that.’
Damn.
Consequently, the two bins sat there forlornly for another month or so, until….
A lorry pulled up. A big lorry. Well, nothing too unusual there - lorries do pull up sometimes. So we ignored it. Then there was a strange, loud, clinking noise. So we had a look.
The lorry driver was on his knees, apparently worshipping the smelly black bin which, after several weeks of rain, was full of Rot Soup. We looked again. He wasn’t worshipping it, he was belting merry hell out of it with a hammer and chisel.
‘Why -?’ was as far as I got, because then I saw the other bins in the back of the lorry. Bandit said, ‘Maybe he’s trying to get the wheels off so it won’t fall over when he puts it in,’ - rather doubtfully. Yet somehow hopefully. It was tragic, really.
Because thirty seconds later, the driver took off his disposable gloves. Disposed of them (in the black bin, of course). Got back in his cab and drove away.
Leaving the black bin pissing Rot Soup all over the place. He’d just chiselled a couple of holes in it.
Gobsmacked, we stood and watched as gallons of stinky stuff poured out and the crisp packets and plakky bags that had been bobbing around on top of it gradually disappeared from sight, settling down into the bin like little nestlings, or alien scoutships returning to the mother ship. Then we looked at each other. Then we sighed. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do.
Of course, I had to go past the scene to get to Morrisons later. And the stench - my dears. You wouldn’t believe. I swear it was decomposing dog and cabbage soup. (Not that I’ve ever had that, thank goodness, but I thought I owed it to you to give some kind of description).
Luckily, it was still raining - and it kept on raining for some time. It washed another lot of Rot Soup out of the bin, but that hadn’t been fermenting for quite so long and seemed quite pleasant, in comparison. Then a neighbour came out with a watering can full of bleach and water and washed down the pavement. Not terribly eco friendly, but in the circumstances we didn’t really give a shit.
However, the bins were still there.
But was that the end of the matter? You really think so? More revealed in Rogue Bins - Part 4, of Foo’s Bin News!
Going to make myself a sandwich now. And ladle in some comfort drops. And then - Proper Writing!
Ow.
But here we go:
Previously in Rogue Bins: two full waste bins, one black and lidless (like the Eye of Mordor), one green, have been left by the edge of the road for months. Incensed by this blot on the landscape roadscape, our protagonist has telephoned the council…
And the council told me they’d already had several complaints. (Really? How amazing.) And they were taking action.
Oh? Oh yes. They would send letters, send Someone To Visit, even issue compliance notices.
The one thing they wouldn’t do was empty the bins.
‘Whoever they belong to,’ I said, diplomatically (because that’s another bit of hearsay and not to be presented as evidence, m’lud) ‘is obviously not missing them - can’t you just take them away, bins, rubbish and all?’
‘No. Sorry. We can’t do that.’
Damn.
Consequently, the two bins sat there forlornly for another month or so, until….
A lorry pulled up. A big lorry. Well, nothing too unusual there - lorries do pull up sometimes. So we ignored it. Then there was a strange, loud, clinking noise. So we had a look.
The lorry driver was on his knees, apparently worshipping the smelly black bin which, after several weeks of rain, was full of Rot Soup. We looked again. He wasn’t worshipping it, he was belting merry hell out of it with a hammer and chisel.
‘Why -?’ was as far as I got, because then I saw the other bins in the back of the lorry. Bandit said, ‘Maybe he’s trying to get the wheels off so it won’t fall over when he puts it in,’ - rather doubtfully. Yet somehow hopefully. It was tragic, really.
Because thirty seconds later, the driver took off his disposable gloves. Disposed of them (in the black bin, of course). Got back in his cab and drove away.
Leaving the black bin pissing Rot Soup all over the place. He’d just chiselled a couple of holes in it.
Gobsmacked, we stood and watched as gallons of stinky stuff poured out and the crisp packets and plakky bags that had been bobbing around on top of it gradually disappeared from sight, settling down into the bin like little nestlings, or alien scoutships returning to the mother ship. Then we looked at each other. Then we sighed. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do.
Of course, I had to go past the scene to get to Morrisons later. And the stench - my dears. You wouldn’t believe. I swear it was decomposing dog and cabbage soup. (Not that I’ve ever had that, thank goodness, but I thought I owed it to you to give some kind of description).
Luckily, it was still raining - and it kept on raining for some time. It washed another lot of Rot Soup out of the bin, but that hadn’t been fermenting for quite so long and seemed quite pleasant, in comparison. Then a neighbour came out with a watering can full of bleach and water and washed down the pavement. Not terribly eco friendly, but in the circumstances we didn’t really give a shit.
However, the bins were still there.
But was that the end of the matter? You really think so? More revealed in Rogue Bins - Part 4, of Foo’s Bin News!
Going to make myself a sandwich now. And ladle in some comfort drops. And then - Proper Writing!