Harumph and Hububery part 4
Harumph and Hububery part 1
Harumph and Hububery part 2
Harumph and Hububery part 3
- Mortimer awoke the next morning to a loud banging that filled the entire caravan. Small pieces of red paint fell from the ceiling and landed on his face. Growling, he jumped out of bed, hitting his head on the top of the caravan as he did so. "Blasted all!" he shouted, though it was drowned out by the loud incessant banging. Mortimer reached for his top hat and his long black magician's staff. He kicked open the door, and a blast of cold air buckled his knees. He hadn't accounted on it being so brisk, otherwise he would have worn something more than his red one-piece long johns. "Who in the infernal depths of hell dares disturb my slumber?!" He roared.
- "I do!" Mortimer looked down to see who was causing the ruckus, and was not prepared for the disturbing albeit amusing sight that laid before him. The person who had spoken up was short, squat, Irish woman wearing not much more than rags surrounded by a dirty apron. Her dirty grey hair was being kept back with a dingy red handkerchief. On her nose was a large, bulbous wart that stuck out like a naked man at the opera. But the peculiar thing about her was not the wart, but the fact that her skin was bright purple. "You sold me some filth tha' you said would git rid of me warts! But insteada gittin rid of me warts, it did this!"
- Mortimer, trying not to laugh, inspected the woman "Did what, my deary?"
- "Whadya mean di' wha'? I'm bleedin' purple, ya idjit!" She threw her hands in the air as she shouted at him.
- "You don't seem to be bleeding to me, Miss. Though, I am not a doctor, so I cannot give you a professional opinion. However, there is delightful free clinic just a few blocks from here."
- The Irish woman was getting rather perturbed. "Qui' yor foolin around! I have a serious complaint!"
- "Oh, I see. You feel that because my miracle wart remover was used improperly, resulting in disaster, that you would be able elude the disclaimer and retrieve at least a portion of your money back?" Mortimer said as he slithered down the steps of his carriage. His eyes pierced the woman's skin, he squinted so hard.
- "I want morthin a portion, you scoundrel! I'm wantin' it all back! Ye turned me skin purple, and it dinna even git rid o' the wart!" She jabbed him hard in the ribs with his index finger.
- "My dear lady, did you, per chance, read the label on the back of your bottle?"
- "I canna read, so no, I dinna!" She said, meeting his icy gaze with her own fiery one.
- "Then I shall, for your benefit, read it aloud to you," he snatched the bottle from her hand without removing eye contact. The deadlock was finally broken when he turned his eyes toward the back of the bottle. "'If this product does not work in the manner it was intended, then it was due to the misapplication, mistreatment, or misinterpretation of the product. Misuse of this product can result in serious side-effects, and may not perform the original desired effects. If any side effects occur during the use of this treatment, the creator of this product cannot and will not be held responsible.' To paraphrase, my dear madam, what is said in too many words: No."
- "No? Whaddya mean 'No'?"
- "I mean just what I say. I will not give you a refund, seeing as you obviously used my product in a fashion it was not originally designed for. The fault is all your own." Mortimer said this with maybe a little too much satisfaction in his voice.
- The Irish woman blew up in Mortimer's face. "It's wart remover! I put it on me wart and it turned me skin purple!" She started hitting him in the shoulder with her large carpet purse.
- "Miss, if you do not cease and desist, I will have to call for the authorities!" Mortimer said under a shield he had created with his arms to protect him from the onslaught. The Irish lady shrieked in frustration, and stormed away, cursing his name as she went. In response, Mortimer brushed each arm off once, spit in the dirt, and rubbed it into the ground with his foot. "I'm not going to allow some old mick curse my name," he said to himself. "But I'll deal with her later. There are bigger fish to fry this morning!" A sudden cold wind reminded Mortimer that he was standing outside in nothing more than his underwear.
- Eugene woke to the sounds and smells of bacon being cooked. He jumped up off the floor of his mother's very tiny bedroom closet, which had served as his bedroom since he was an infant, and got dressed. Entering the kitchen, Eugene found his mother at the stove making breakfast. "Go ahead and have a seat, deary, breakfast will be ready in a second," his mother told him.
- "Mother!" Eugene croaked, still in the throes of just waking up. "You haven't made me breakfast since I was ten!"
- "This is the first time I was proud that I split my legs for you since you were ten," she said, not turning around. Eugene didn't notice the insult, and instead focused on the aromas of eggs and bacon. He sat down in the rickety dinner chair, his back thanking him as he did so. He was always a bit sore in the morning due to the fetal position he had to assume in order to sleep in his 'bedroom.' Ms. Macintosh slid a plat filled with scrambled eggs, toast, jelly, and bacon in front of Eugene. "So, what time are you going to work this morning?" She asked as she sat down in front of her own plate.
- "Oh, I'm not sure. In a little while, I suppose," said Eugene in between massive bites of eggs.
- Seemingly out of no where, Eugene's mother produced her wooden spoon and thumped him on the head. "Boy, you better not mess this up! This is the first good news I've had since your father died!"
- "But, Momma-" Eugene decided not to finish his sentence after seeing the look his mother gave him. He decided to return to the original topic. "I'm not going to mess this up. They uh, they said I could come in when I was ready."
- "Well, you better be ready by the time you finish that bacon. The longer you're there, the more money you can make. And Lord knows we need as much money as we can get."
- "If we need money so bad, mother, then why don't you get a job?" She thwacked him on the temple with her spoon, but said nothing. "Fine, I'll go as soon as I'm done with breakfast. Please just stop hitting me. I don't think Father..." Eugene realized now that he never knew the name of the priest at the catholic church downtown. He hoped his mother didn't know either. "Mc..Gill..ing..ton...son. Father McGillingtonson would want me to come in all bruised up on my first day of work."
- Eugene's mother looked at him hard, sensing something was not quite right. Eugene's heart skipped a beat, and he could feel sweat starting to gather around his hairline. Would she buy it? "Yes, well," she said. "Maybe you're right. We wouldn't want Father McGillingtonson firing you on your first day on account of you getting me angry." Eugene silently exhaled a sigh of relief. She bought it.
- Finishing his breakfast, Eugene stood up and stretched. "That was very tasty, Mother. Thank you." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm off to work now. Wish me luck!"
- "I'll wish you luck when you bring home the bacon," she said with a witty smirk. "Have a good day and make me lots of money!" Eugene waved to his mother as he left the kitchen, and walked out the front door. Putting the dishes in the sink to be washed, she said to herself "That boy is going to be the death of me."
A strange day, indeed. Thus it was the Ides of March.
This morning, on my way to work, I locked my keys and wallet in the house and had to wait an hour and a half before someone from work could come help me break into the house. But, while I waited, I got to read the Hellblazer books I bought because the UPS man came during that time! He had my dvds, too! Huzzah for me! I watched both the dvd's and they're phenomenal. One is a They Might Be Giants documentary, the other is a dvd of all their videos (except Boss of Me). Here's a taste:
THE GUITAR (They Might Be Giants)
Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com
Other than that, I practiced my banjo some today. I'm still not very good, but I haven't been practicing as much as I should. I'm slowly getting there. I'll try and write more tomorrow.
Harumph and Hububery part 2
Harumph and Hububery part 3
- Mortimer awoke the next morning to a loud banging that filled the entire caravan. Small pieces of red paint fell from the ceiling and landed on his face. Growling, he jumped out of bed, hitting his head on the top of the caravan as he did so. "Blasted all!" he shouted, though it was drowned out by the loud incessant banging. Mortimer reached for his top hat and his long black magician's staff. He kicked open the door, and a blast of cold air buckled his knees. He hadn't accounted on it being so brisk, otherwise he would have worn something more than his red one-piece long johns. "Who in the infernal depths of hell dares disturb my slumber?!" He roared.
- "I do!" Mortimer looked down to see who was causing the ruckus, and was not prepared for the disturbing albeit amusing sight that laid before him. The person who had spoken up was short, squat, Irish woman wearing not much more than rags surrounded by a dirty apron. Her dirty grey hair was being kept back with a dingy red handkerchief. On her nose was a large, bulbous wart that stuck out like a naked man at the opera. But the peculiar thing about her was not the wart, but the fact that her skin was bright purple. "You sold me some filth tha' you said would git rid of me warts! But insteada gittin rid of me warts, it did this!"
- Mortimer, trying not to laugh, inspected the woman "Did what, my deary?"
- "Whadya mean di' wha'? I'm bleedin' purple, ya idjit!" She threw her hands in the air as she shouted at him.
- "You don't seem to be bleeding to me, Miss. Though, I am not a doctor, so I cannot give you a professional opinion. However, there is delightful free clinic just a few blocks from here."
- The Irish woman was getting rather perturbed. "Qui' yor foolin around! I have a serious complaint!"
- "Oh, I see. You feel that because my miracle wart remover was used improperly, resulting in disaster, that you would be able elude the disclaimer and retrieve at least a portion of your money back?" Mortimer said as he slithered down the steps of his carriage. His eyes pierced the woman's skin, he squinted so hard.
- "I want morthin a portion, you scoundrel! I'm wantin' it all back! Ye turned me skin purple, and it dinna even git rid o' the wart!" She jabbed him hard in the ribs with his index finger.
- "My dear lady, did you, per chance, read the label on the back of your bottle?"
- "I canna read, so no, I dinna!" She said, meeting his icy gaze with her own fiery one.
- "Then I shall, for your benefit, read it aloud to you," he snatched the bottle from her hand without removing eye contact. The deadlock was finally broken when he turned his eyes toward the back of the bottle. "'If this product does not work in the manner it was intended, then it was due to the misapplication, mistreatment, or misinterpretation of the product. Misuse of this product can result in serious side-effects, and may not perform the original desired effects. If any side effects occur during the use of this treatment, the creator of this product cannot and will not be held responsible.' To paraphrase, my dear madam, what is said in too many words: No."
- "No? Whaddya mean 'No'?"
- "I mean just what I say. I will not give you a refund, seeing as you obviously used my product in a fashion it was not originally designed for. The fault is all your own." Mortimer said this with maybe a little too much satisfaction in his voice.
- The Irish woman blew up in Mortimer's face. "It's wart remover! I put it on me wart and it turned me skin purple!" She started hitting him in the shoulder with her large carpet purse.
- "Miss, if you do not cease and desist, I will have to call for the authorities!" Mortimer said under a shield he had created with his arms to protect him from the onslaught. The Irish lady shrieked in frustration, and stormed away, cursing his name as she went. In response, Mortimer brushed each arm off once, spit in the dirt, and rubbed it into the ground with his foot. "I'm not going to allow some old mick curse my name," he said to himself. "But I'll deal with her later. There are bigger fish to fry this morning!" A sudden cold wind reminded Mortimer that he was standing outside in nothing more than his underwear.
- Eugene woke to the sounds and smells of bacon being cooked. He jumped up off the floor of his mother's very tiny bedroom closet, which had served as his bedroom since he was an infant, and got dressed. Entering the kitchen, Eugene found his mother at the stove making breakfast. "Go ahead and have a seat, deary, breakfast will be ready in a second," his mother told him.
- "Mother!" Eugene croaked, still in the throes of just waking up. "You haven't made me breakfast since I was ten!"
- "This is the first time I was proud that I split my legs for you since you were ten," she said, not turning around. Eugene didn't notice the insult, and instead focused on the aromas of eggs and bacon. He sat down in the rickety dinner chair, his back thanking him as he did so. He was always a bit sore in the morning due to the fetal position he had to assume in order to sleep in his 'bedroom.' Ms. Macintosh slid a plat filled with scrambled eggs, toast, jelly, and bacon in front of Eugene. "So, what time are you going to work this morning?" She asked as she sat down in front of her own plate.
- "Oh, I'm not sure. In a little while, I suppose," said Eugene in between massive bites of eggs.
- Seemingly out of no where, Eugene's mother produced her wooden spoon and thumped him on the head. "Boy, you better not mess this up! This is the first good news I've had since your father died!"
- "But, Momma-" Eugene decided not to finish his sentence after seeing the look his mother gave him. He decided to return to the original topic. "I'm not going to mess this up. They uh, they said I could come in when I was ready."
- "Well, you better be ready by the time you finish that bacon. The longer you're there, the more money you can make. And Lord knows we need as much money as we can get."
- "If we need money so bad, mother, then why don't you get a job?" She thwacked him on the temple with her spoon, but said nothing. "Fine, I'll go as soon as I'm done with breakfast. Please just stop hitting me. I don't think Father..." Eugene realized now that he never knew the name of the priest at the catholic church downtown. He hoped his mother didn't know either. "Mc..Gill..ing..ton...son. Father McGillingtonson would want me to come in all bruised up on my first day of work."
- Eugene's mother looked at him hard, sensing something was not quite right. Eugene's heart skipped a beat, and he could feel sweat starting to gather around his hairline. Would she buy it? "Yes, well," she said. "Maybe you're right. We wouldn't want Father McGillingtonson firing you on your first day on account of you getting me angry." Eugene silently exhaled a sigh of relief. She bought it.
- Finishing his breakfast, Eugene stood up and stretched. "That was very tasty, Mother. Thank you." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm off to work now. Wish me luck!"
- "I'll wish you luck when you bring home the bacon," she said with a witty smirk. "Have a good day and make me lots of money!" Eugene waved to his mother as he left the kitchen, and walked out the front door. Putting the dishes in the sink to be washed, she said to herself "That boy is going to be the death of me."
A strange day, indeed. Thus it was the Ides of March.
This morning, on my way to work, I locked my keys and wallet in the house and had to wait an hour and a half before someone from work could come help me break into the house. But, while I waited, I got to read the Hellblazer books I bought because the UPS man came during that time! He had my dvds, too! Huzzah for me! I watched both the dvd's and they're phenomenal. One is a They Might Be Giants documentary, the other is a dvd of all their videos (except Boss of Me). Here's a taste:
THE GUITAR (They Might Be Giants)
Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com
Other than that, I practiced my banjo some today. I'm still not very good, but I haven't been practicing as much as I should. I'm slowly getting there. I'll try and write more tomorrow.