Ellie and Nellie
Ellie and Nellie are Siamese twins, joined at the shoulder and the hip. They have quite a successful show business career as a juggling act.
They have just finished a successful stint at Batley Variety Club. As they are leaving the stage, Ellie says: "Hey! I fancy that stagehand - the one with the beard." "Not my type" replies Nellie. "Well it's my turn to choose" says Ellie.
She strikes up a conversation with the stage hand, a real "Yorkshire" lad. Being somewhat forward, she makes a suggestion. "Perhaps we could have a party?" "What had you in mind?" "Perhaps we could get a couple of bottles of bubbly and go back to your flat?" The stage hand laughs. "Well, I've got a couple of packs of brown ale back at my bed-sit if that'll do." "Why not," says Ellie.
So they all pile into the girls' mini. They cannot have a larger car - they have to sit close to each other, being joined at the shoulder and hip. Ellie drives, as she must being the one on the right. After a little difficulty negotiating the narrow stairs to the stage- hand's bedsit (the girls, being joined at the shoulder and hip, have to go up sideways) they collapse onto the sofa.
Ellie and the stage-hand get along famously, chatting, laughing, flirting, and drinking brown ale. Nellie sits and sulks. It is not, after all, her turn, but what can she do. They are (if I haven't mentioned it) joined at the shoulder and the hip.
The evening progresses as such evenings do, and eventually the stagehand leads Ellie towards the double bed in the corner of the room. Nellie, of course, must follow as the girl's (you may recall) are joined at the shoulder and the hip.
Imagine the stagehand's delight! Imagine the erotic potential of a bra with two arm straps and four cups. Imagine a pair of silky knickers with four leg-holes.
The stagehand gently lies Ellie on the bed, and lies beside her. Ellie smiles sweetly. Nellie (who is joined to her at the shoulder and the hip) frowns and scowls.
As the stagehand moves towards the main event, Ellie stops him. "Have you got a spare sheet?" "Yes I have. What for?" "It's Nellie. Lying there with nothing on and nothing to do she'll get cold. Anyway, it'll put you off if she is watching." "So the stage hand gets up and fetches a spare sheet which Ellie lays over Nellie.
The stagehand gets back on the bed, and just as things are warming up again, Ellie stops him. "I don't suppose you've got anything to eat have you?" "You're hungry??" "No, I mean for Ellie. It must be a bit boring for her, lying under that sheet" (They are, after all, joined at the shoulder and the hip). "Oh, right. What would she like?" "A prawn and mayonnaise roll would be nice." "I've nowt like that, but I've got some Hovis and a tube of primula." "That'll be fine then. So the stagehand leaps out of bed to the kitchenette and whips up a Hovis and primula buttie. He passes it under the sheet to Nellie (who is joined to Ellie at the shoulder and the hip, as I may have said.)
And so the stagehand progresses his relationship with Ellie (who is joined to Nellie at the shoulder and the hip) towards a climax, Nellie (who is joined to Ellie at the shoulder and the hip) lying under the sheet eating a hovis and primula sandwich when Ellie suddenly stops him.
"Are those disco lights on the wall?" "Yes they are lass. I do the disco at the Laisterdyke Conservative Club, after the comedian and before the stripper." "Do you think you could put them on?" "You want disco lights??" "No, it's not for me, silly!" she giggles. "It's for Nellie. She might be a bit bored. She could watch the lights through the sheet."
So the stagehand leaps up and switched on the disco lights, setting them to his favourite, most entertaining pattern. He returns to the bed, and encourages Ellie to revive his rather flagging enthusiasm for the finale to their evening. Nellie (who is joined to Ellie at the shoulder and the hip) lies beneath the sheet, watching the disco lights and munching a Hovis and primula sandwich.
Just before the moment that the stagehand has looked forward to most, Ellie stops him. "Is that a trombone in the corner there?" she asks. "Yes it is lass. I@m fed up with being a stagehand and I want to be a performer. So I bought that on the never-never. I'm not very good though. I take it up on the moors on Sundays to practice so no-one can hear me." "Can Nellie borrow it for a while?" "You want music????" "No, silly, "Ellie laughs. "Our booking have been tailing off lately and we need a new feature. Can you imagine it? Ellie and Nellie - the juggling siamese twins - with trombone accompaniment?" "Aye, I take you point." So he leaps from the bed and passes the trombone under the sheet to Nellie (who is, you may recall, joined to Ellie at the shoulder and the hip).
And so the evening progresses to its natural climax. The stagehand and Ellie do that which young people will do in such circumstances, and Nellie (who is joined to Ellie at the shoulder and the hip) lies beneath the sheet, eating a Hovis and primula and sandwich, watching disco lights and playing the trombone.
And, thinks the stagehand afterwards, a rewarding and remarkable experience it was too.
About three months later, after a successful run at the Manchester Alhambra, Ellie and Nellie (the juggling siamese twins who are, I should have mentioned, joined at the shoulder and the hip) have a booking at Leeds City Varieties.
Travelling back from Manchester in their mini (the largest car they can have, as they are joined at the shoulder and the hip), Ellie (who has to drive, being on the right) misses the turning from the M62 and instead of coming into Leeds on the M621 finds herself driving through Morley.
"Good Lord!" She says. "I know where we are. That stagehand's bedsit is near here."
Ignoring Nellie's protests, she takes a couple of turns and pulls up in front of the old converted victorian terrace. Together they struggle sideways up the narrow staircase (being joined at the shoulder and the hip) and Ellie raps loudly on the door. The stagehand, bleary from a heavy night, opens the door.
"Surprise!" says Ellie. "I bet you don't remember us."
squiffs
