After nearly destorying the mansion, they headed off into town to have a few pints at the local pub. In the hall, (2) The butler kept whistling the tune to “Roll Over Beethoven.” as the maid danced around to “Funkytown.” as they cleaned. The cook chimed in, (4) “You two remind me of Abbott and Costello.” “Who’s on First?” said the bulter, “I’m not asking you who’s on first, i’m asking you who’s on second?” said the maid in reply to the butler’s reference of the famous routine.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The three stood there in silence for a moment. It was awfully late for there to be a caller. “Well, it ain’t housekeeping dearies,” said the maid with a twinge of annoyance in her voice. Then she looked annoyedly over at the Milton and said, “Well you’re the bloody butler, get the door why don’t you!”

“Oh hmmm erm, yes, yes, i’m getting the door,” Milton replied as he scurried off towards the enterance way. “Maiybe it’s a ghoast!” said Vera the cook with her half-cockney accent. “Oh hogwash,” said Prudence the maid, ” There’s no such thing as ghosts. Go along then.” Then she turned towards Milton who was cowering at the door. “Oh come off it!” she said to him, “You don’t believe in ghosts do you?” In an attempt to redeem himself in front of the ladies and prove himself somewhat manly, he tugged on the handle of the very heavy English Oak door that creeked in a sinister fashion as it was opened, saying, “Hmmpfh! (6) Of course I don’t believe in…………(((GHOSTS))) !!!” The two women shreiked in horror out of sheer reaction to his gesture, at which case he began to chuckle saying, (5) “Hurray!! The Keystone Kops have arrived. And they seem to have found the misses.”

“Holy Shite Milton! (7) “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” said Vera making her way towards the door. “Oh I do so expect that he is,” added Prudence also walking over to see what the commotion was about.

As the two women peered out of the doorway, there was the local fuzz helping Ms.Carmichale upwards towards the enterance. “Oh well now, what h’ave we got h’ere?” asked Vera inquisitively, with almost a mother-like tone. (9) “I am SO out of here.” said Prudence with absolute assurance in her voice, “The last time she came home like this, it took me nearly three hours to get her up the stairs and into bed! And when I’d finally managed, she was so pissed drunk the poor girl was hallucinating asking me to get the broom shouting, (3) ‘THERE’S A BAT IN MY ROOM !! there’s a bat in my room!’ There was NOoooo bloody bloomin’ bat, it was the damned shadows on the wall for Godsakes; I said, no disrespt to you Misses, but get your bloomin’ head outta your a*rse and get some sleep! But no, no, she refused for another twenty-five minutes making me swat at imaginiary flying rodents. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, she swore by the Pope and Prince Harry that (8) Just then, the Cockroach From Hell did a medieval tap dance on the window sill.

Bollocks! It was all in her bloody head. If she wasn’t so damned intoxicated perhaps she could’ve seen straight. I swear she should know by now she can’t handle more than one pint.”

“Well then,” scoffed Vera somewhat offended. “You’re not going to stay and help us i take it?” “I most certainly am not,” said Prudence. “There’s not enough bloody pounds in England to convince me to deal with that mess again. Good night to you both.” Then she turned and began to walk away when suddenely she turned round almost instinctively and bent her ear slightly towards the door. “My God,” she said in annoyance, (1) “What is that scratching sound?”

“Erm…… um…..” stammerd Milton pointing towards the two officers barely holding up a very inebriated Ms. Carmichale who was in the middle of recanting to the surprised and now traumatised fuzz, a very indecent public rant about her escapades that evening. “So theeennnnnnnn,” she stammerd, “So then Wally says to me, he says, he….. says,” she stuttered very drunkenly grabbing her breasts that were half hanging out of her shirt, “He says, come on! Come on then Mavis show us your jigglies, (10) So I said………I said, hey,mate! Like…..Get jiggy with it.” Then she stumbled onto the porch laughing hysterically to the embarassment of the local patrol. “Madam!” said the one slighly blushing.

“Oh bloody hell,” sighed Prudence, making her way outside to help her mistress. “It’s going to be a long night then isn’t it? Come on you two,” she added motioning for the Butler and the Maid to assist her in aiding the extremely drunk lady of the house back onto her feet and inside where she belonged. The kindly officers were now gaping at the Mistress’ sprawled out form, very indecently, about the porch.

“Good night gentlemen,” she said authoritatively as she bent down to lift her mistress onto her feet.

“Good night Madam,” they said in unison, smirking slightly as the three struggled to take care of the situation and restore some dignity to their mistress.

The End. ♥♥

2 4 6 5 7 9 3 8 1 10 ♥

“Ewwwwwwwwwwoooooommagagagagag!” came the eerie sound again and the hairs at the back of my neck stood up. I was startled a bit and so was my wife. But the twins were laughing hysterically.

“Daddy is scared of the butler!” they chorused. And it was the butler Bernard hiding by the staircase with a bullhorn who was making the sound.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” I asked him not finding it funny at all.

“Daddy is scared of ghosts!” The twins chanted running over to Bernard.

“Of course I don’t believe in…………(((GHOSTS))) !!!” I said.

“Hurray!! The Keystone Kops have arrived!” said Bernard as the twin boys who were dressed as cops climbed all over him. “You two remind me of Abbott and Costello.”

‘Blow your horn again!!” screamed the twins. But Bernard The butler kept whistling the tune to “Roll Over Beethoven” and refused to blow his horn as he caught the warning glare from me.

“What’s that scratching sound?” asked my wife as we unpacked in the room.

“Probably Bernard again up to some mischief.” I said

“No, in the wardrobe honey!” I went over and opened the wardrobe and out flew – what the!?

“OH NO!! THERE’S A BAT IN MY ROOM !!” screamed my wife running around with her arms swinging wildly as the creature chased her around the bedroom. But it was not a bat really. On closer inspection it looked like a flying squirrel!

“Hold on love, I have got this!” I said taking a flying tackle and catching a hold of the squirrel’s tail and crashing on the television set with it. I felt my hip bone dislocate. The furry, crazy animal struggled in my hands.

” I am SO out of here!!” screamed my wife with her hair tousled and her face a picture of fear as she panted heavily.

“Hold it, sir!” shouted Bernard coming into the room. “That’s my pet squirrel!” Just then the squirrel bit my right hand with sharp teeth. The pain was unbearable and I flung off the squirrel which fell on my wife and clung to her hair. We had another round of screaming and running around the room.