This is actually Part Two of "Five Go to a Bar", so if you haven't read Part One yet, go there first. We'll still be here when you get back*. I've retitled it based on the TwitFam suggestion that anything related to sex in the title gets clicked on. This also explains the fact that my blog on Dining at the Y has twice the views of anything I've ever written. Including 3 years worth of student rent cheques that each bounced 4 times. You can find it on this site after you've read this. And after you've read Part One. Because reading ain't free, bitches, as Enid always said.
*<SPOILERS> Except for Timmy, George & Anne. Oh, and Julian doesn't get a look in, because he's a lanky, posh, ineffectual cock womble who makes David Cameron look like Danny Dyer. Although DD probably never got a blow job from a pig's head. Or BD, thankfully. Plus he's called Julian, which is enough in itself. Dick, however, will eventually make an appearance.
Ryan sits down. Ryan has been holding the door open for the beer barrel man. Ryan is helpful. If he was in school, teacher would give Ryan a merit point. If he was in Catholic School, Ryan would need to stay behind for an extra-special "It's Our Secret" award. And some mouthwash. But Ryan is not in school. He is in a Hipster Goblin grotto, with ladies present. Ladies are a distant memory for Ryan. Ryan is married.
Beer barrel man appears outside again. Valiantly, BD leaps to his feet, like Arthur preparing to seize the sword from the stone. Except clumsier, and less kingly. He holds the door open, and then sits down without stumbling, to mild applause. Beer barrel man returns again and again. He has a lot of beer to deliver. In barrels. This is why he is called beer barrel man. Take nothing away from Enid's narrative excellence and eye for detail. Sometimes the girls hold the door. Sometimes the big, blonde shiny one, sometimes the quite famous one. The boys perform their manly duties too. Sometimes Ryan, sometimes BD. You get the drift, but Enid would milk another chapter from it. Eye contact is made, except with Dobby in the bobble hat. She is dead to our happy gang. Two tables become one. Goblin juice and conversation flow. Time ticks by, even on the clock with the stopped hands.
Beer barrel man appears again. He is a persistent fucker. Dobby opens the door, and then slips out silently into the night, possibly in pursuit of the missing socks of the Hipster Goblin who gave her his pocket square. Or his galoshes. Who cares? She will inevitably die, heartrendingly, on a beach. It is written in the stars. The stars that could be glimpsed through the leafy branches of the Faraway Tree, before Anne's selfish act. Anne's thirty years of penal servitude on Kirrin Island with only the magpies will not bring Silky and Moon Face back. Silky was crushed by a twig. Moon Face got wedged in the Slippery-Slip and fed through a wood chipper by unaware travellers, working for cash.
It's Enid's last, great, unfinished book; bringing together beloved characters such as Noddy, and Fatty from the Five Find-Outers. (Enid loves a bit of fat-shaming, but this makes BD uncomfortable) We know that the story finishes with a showdown between the Famous Five feat. Noddy & Big Ears v The Secret Seven, but the cats that ate Enid's body also used the manuscript as a litter tray, so the outcome is lost to posterity. Perhaps Larry, Fatty, Pip, Daisy, Bets and Buster* can find out before Mr Goon can?
*Buster is a dog, but doesn't count towards the total of the Five Find-Outers, unlike Timmy, who is not only one of the Five but Famous, to boot. Blyton was a thin-lipped dog segregationist.
Ryan and BD do not care. Ryan and BD are carefree, like larks, immediately before an outbreak of deadly lark ebola. This is a real disease. When did you last see a lark? Let's take a moment to reflect.
Shiny is called Zeta. She is shiny, like a balloon blown so full of helium that the skin squeaks. She is not a small girl, but well-proportioned and athletic. She has a job so identifiable that neither Enid nor I can allude to it. People everywhere may have seen her on on television and would like to apply for this job. They have no chance. Zeta would kill them all. Zeta is from a land far away. Zeta has weapons skills. Zeta is staying in the job. Don't even ask.
Quite Famous is called Gloria. She is beautiful, in a double-take kind of way, and easily identifiable, especially from the days Ryan and BD were younger and full of spunk. This is an OK word to use if you are writing like Enid. All Enid's young characters are packed to the gills with abundant spunk. It's an admirable quality. At least in Enid's eyes, where I imagine it may sting a little. Gloria is quite tall, with giant, spunk-free eyes and hair of many colours, like Joseph's coat, except without Phillip Schofield's sweat inside it. There is a vulnerability about her; she is alternately funny and melancholy, sexy and shy. She holds BD's hand while he tells them of his empty new life full of heartbreak and sorrow, and this makes BD happy. He has not been happy for many weeks.
Even Hipster Goblin Grottos have to close sometimes, and this one is no exception. Six hours after entering, our table is encouraged, gently but firmly, to leave. They are the last customers. Ryan must go home, to a severe scolding from his wife. She is a good, gentle, and long-suffering woman. Ryan scampers away like a naughty puppy. He will make her laugh and they will reconcile and go to bed, where she will fall asleep before any secret grown up adventures happen. This is because they are married.
Ryan is sad too.
Zeta lives only a few paces away. She is hugged and kissed, and numbers are exchanged. She takes out her key, and trips shinily through her front door. BD has already agreed to escort Gloria home. They buy wine and chocolate on the way there, at Gloria's request. BD has a feeling in the pit of his tummy. It is not the feeling you are thinking he is feeling. The walk is short, and takes them to a giant Gothic building with an entrance hall like a deserted church. BD is invited in, and accepts.
Gloria's home is very small, cosy and cluttered. They go to the kitchen. Gloria sits on the bed. I told you it was small. BD sits on the chair at the end of the bed. BD likes Gloria. In his youth he liked her very much, vigorously and repeatedly, but he is not going to confess that. They connect with each other; they know people mutually, and share many interests; like basket-weaving and pottery; except not those. Gloria likes BD too. He can tell, because she asks him to her sleepover party, even though he hasn't packed any pyjamas. He needed to be asked. Boys are so dim.
But that feeling is not going away. It is a special feeling deep in his swirly insides. The feeling that stability and Gloria are not currently friends. That cuddling would be good. And bad. Very, very, bad, like the day that Operation Yewtree came for Uncle Quentin. That Gloria needs meds and support much more than wine and penis. Penis is a grown up word. Ask your parents or guardians.
BD is a grown up. Sometimes. What would Uncle Quentin do? No, that's no help. There is something so innocent and childlike about Gloria that his instinct is to look out for her. To help her. To be her friend. And to rally support for her from all her splendid chums. Even Bobble-Hat Dobby. And then, possibly with Enid's favourite combination of midnight feasts and spanking with hairbrushes, to rut with her like frenzied foxes on a full moon, vigorously and repeatedly. Obvs. Except... just when things are not quite so... obviously wrong. Not tonight.
Also, all that Hipster Goblin Juice is going to need to be processed, one way or another.
Warm words and warmer hugs precede a cold trudge back to BD's empty, empty apartment. His world is spinning. Literally. So much to process. And he doesn't know which box the toilet paper is in. But BD has a purpose. He has a focus. He can rescue a damsel in distress. And by helping someone else, he doesn't have to help himself.
BD is very fresh to this stuff.
He wakes to a text from Zeta...
*<SPOILERS> Except for Timmy, George & Anne. Oh, and Julian doesn't get a look in, because he's a lanky, posh, ineffectual cock womble who makes David Cameron look like Danny Dyer. Although DD probably never got a blow job from a pig's head. Or BD, thankfully. Plus he's called Julian, which is enough in itself. Dick, however, will eventually make an appearance.
Ryan sits down. Ryan has been holding the door open for the beer barrel man. Ryan is helpful. If he was in school, teacher would give Ryan a merit point. If he was in Catholic School, Ryan would need to stay behind for an extra-special "It's Our Secret" award. And some mouthwash. But Ryan is not in school. He is in a Hipster Goblin grotto, with ladies present. Ladies are a distant memory for Ryan. Ryan is married.
Beer barrel man appears outside again. Valiantly, BD leaps to his feet, like Arthur preparing to seize the sword from the stone. Except clumsier, and less kingly. He holds the door open, and then sits down without stumbling, to mild applause. Beer barrel man returns again and again. He has a lot of beer to deliver. In barrels. This is why he is called beer barrel man. Take nothing away from Enid's narrative excellence and eye for detail. Sometimes the girls hold the door. Sometimes the big, blonde shiny one, sometimes the quite famous one. The boys perform their manly duties too. Sometimes Ryan, sometimes BD. You get the drift, but Enid would milk another chapter from it. Eye contact is made, except with Dobby in the bobble hat. She is dead to our happy gang. Two tables become one. Goblin juice and conversation flow. Time ticks by, even on the clock with the stopped hands.
Beer barrel man appears again. He is a persistent fucker. Dobby opens the door, and then slips out silently into the night, possibly in pursuit of the missing socks of the Hipster Goblin who gave her his pocket square. Or his galoshes. Who cares? She will inevitably die, heartrendingly, on a beach. It is written in the stars. The stars that could be glimpsed through the leafy branches of the Faraway Tree, before Anne's selfish act. Anne's thirty years of penal servitude on Kirrin Island with only the magpies will not bring Silky and Moon Face back. Silky was crushed by a twig. Moon Face got wedged in the Slippery-Slip and fed through a wood chipper by unaware travellers, working for cash.
It's Enid's last, great, unfinished book; bringing together beloved characters such as Noddy, and Fatty from the Five Find-Outers. (Enid loves a bit of fat-shaming, but this makes BD uncomfortable) We know that the story finishes with a showdown between the Famous Five feat. Noddy & Big Ears v The Secret Seven, but the cats that ate Enid's body also used the manuscript as a litter tray, so the outcome is lost to posterity. Perhaps Larry, Fatty, Pip, Daisy, Bets and Buster* can find out before Mr Goon can?
*Buster is a dog, but doesn't count towards the total of the Five Find-Outers, unlike Timmy, who is not only one of the Five but Famous, to boot. Blyton was a thin-lipped dog segregationist.
Ryan and BD do not care. Ryan and BD are carefree, like larks, immediately before an outbreak of deadly lark ebola. This is a real disease. When did you last see a lark? Let's take a moment to reflect.
Shiny is called Zeta. She is shiny, like a balloon blown so full of helium that the skin squeaks. She is not a small girl, but well-proportioned and athletic. She has a job so identifiable that neither Enid nor I can allude to it. People everywhere may have seen her on on television and would like to apply for this job. They have no chance. Zeta would kill them all. Zeta is from a land far away. Zeta has weapons skills. Zeta is staying in the job. Don't even ask.
Quite Famous is called Gloria. She is beautiful, in a double-take kind of way, and easily identifiable, especially from the days Ryan and BD were younger and full of spunk. This is an OK word to use if you are writing like Enid. All Enid's young characters are packed to the gills with abundant spunk. It's an admirable quality. At least in Enid's eyes, where I imagine it may sting a little. Gloria is quite tall, with giant, spunk-free eyes and hair of many colours, like Joseph's coat, except without Phillip Schofield's sweat inside it. There is a vulnerability about her; she is alternately funny and melancholy, sexy and shy. She holds BD's hand while he tells them of his empty new life full of heartbreak and sorrow, and this makes BD happy. He has not been happy for many weeks.
Even Hipster Goblin Grottos have to close sometimes, and this one is no exception. Six hours after entering, our table is encouraged, gently but firmly, to leave. They are the last customers. Ryan must go home, to a severe scolding from his wife. She is a good, gentle, and long-suffering woman. Ryan scampers away like a naughty puppy. He will make her laugh and they will reconcile and go to bed, where she will fall asleep before any secret grown up adventures happen. This is because they are married.
Ryan is sad too.
Zeta lives only a few paces away. She is hugged and kissed, and numbers are exchanged. She takes out her key, and trips shinily through her front door. BD has already agreed to escort Gloria home. They buy wine and chocolate on the way there, at Gloria's request. BD has a feeling in the pit of his tummy. It is not the feeling you are thinking he is feeling. The walk is short, and takes them to a giant Gothic building with an entrance hall like a deserted church. BD is invited in, and accepts.
Gloria's home is very small, cosy and cluttered. They go to the kitchen. Gloria sits on the bed. I told you it was small. BD sits on the chair at the end of the bed. BD likes Gloria. In his youth he liked her very much, vigorously and repeatedly, but he is not going to confess that. They connect with each other; they know people mutually, and share many interests; like basket-weaving and pottery; except not those. Gloria likes BD too. He can tell, because she asks him to her sleepover party, even though he hasn't packed any pyjamas. He needed to be asked. Boys are so dim.
But that feeling is not going away. It is a special feeling deep in his swirly insides. The feeling that stability and Gloria are not currently friends. That cuddling would be good. And bad. Very, very, bad, like the day that Operation Yewtree came for Uncle Quentin. That Gloria needs meds and support much more than wine and penis. Penis is a grown up word. Ask your parents or guardians.
BD is a grown up. Sometimes. What would Uncle Quentin do? No, that's no help. There is something so innocent and childlike about Gloria that his instinct is to look out for her. To help her. To be her friend. And to rally support for her from all her splendid chums. Even Bobble-Hat Dobby. And then, possibly with Enid's favourite combination of midnight feasts and spanking with hairbrushes, to rut with her like frenzied foxes on a full moon, vigorously and repeatedly. Obvs. Except... just when things are not quite so... obviously wrong. Not tonight.
Also, all that Hipster Goblin Juice is going to need to be processed, one way or another.
Warm words and warmer hugs precede a cold trudge back to BD's empty, empty apartment. His world is spinning. Literally. So much to process. And he doesn't know which box the toilet paper is in. But BD has a purpose. He has a focus. He can rescue a damsel in distress. And by helping someone else, he doesn't have to help himself.
BD is very fresh to this stuff.
He wakes to a text from Zeta...
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