St Muckymuck - Episode 18 - Naughty Nettie Hijacks Rehearsal

WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS:

IRRELIGIOUS, IRREVERENT, AND IRRELEVANT.

THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL.  ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.  

IN FACT, ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING AT ALL WILL BE REMARKABLY COINCIDENTAL.

Still in St Mochemoc's Church Hall 8.17pm

Some wag had pinned a piece of paper to the door of the cupboard. Written on it in large red lettering were the words “LOVE SHACK”.

Mike stepped out of the cupboard and into the hall, one clown shoe on his right foot, the other in his left hand.

The dazed look on his face only added to his already bizarre appearance.  His clown make up was smeared all over his face.  His curly red wig was all askew and his false red nose was missing. The braces holding up his baggy checked trousers went “ping!” as he walked unsteadily to his seat in the front row of the choir. His trousers fell unceremoniously to the floor, revealing a pair of large, flowery boxer shorts.

“Ooooohh” gasped Grace.  She stretched out her hand, and cupped Mike’s bottom in her left hand.

“Nice buns!” she remarked. “Firm”.

Mike blushed furiously under his make-up, pulled up his trousers and took his seat.

“Alright Mike?” said Frank O’Dhoul. “You look a bit dishevelled.  Where’s your horn?”

Mike looked blankly at him.

“I think Ina’s got it.” said Sister Gertie. "Did you give it to her?” she asked innocently.

“Dunno....” he stuttered.

Following closely behind him was Ina, looking like the cat that got the cream. She was immaculately coiffed and dressed, as usual, her elegant look slightly spoilt by the bulbous red clown’s nose which was placed squarely on top of her own. Ina seemed to be totally oblivious to this anomaly.  She smoothed down her black pencil skirt and made her way to the music stand to address the choir.

The choir stared at her silently for a moment, perplexed.

“Have you got a cold coming on Ina?” asked Emily gently, concerned.

Ina sniffed and frowned. “No....Why do you ask?”

***********************

At the other end of the hall Shug was making his way over to Father Gabriel for a refill of his teacup, still struggling to hide his sniggers.

“So, Father,” said Shug. “Mike’s looking a bit flustered, isn’t he? What do you think’s wrong with him?”

“Well” said Father Gabriel conspiratorially. “He’s about to undergo a sex change and he hasn’t told his wife, so.....”

“What?! screeched Shug. “Mike’s having a sex change op?” he exclaimed, almost dropping his whoopee pie.

“Who told you that?” said Gabriel suspiciously.

“YOU just did!” retorted Shug.

“Oh God, did I say that out loud?” Gabriel looked horrified.  “I’ve GOT to stop doing that.....” He hurriedly gathered up his tea things and scurried out of the hall.

**************************

“Has Ina given you the horn then Mike?” Sister Gertie shouted from the back of the hall.

Shug collapsed into a heap on the floor, choking on the crumbs of his french fancy.  He looked as if he was going to explode with mirth.

Just at that moment, Chris re-appeared, clutching another piece of paper, no doubt containing more tongue twisters.

“Is Nettie ok?” enquired Shug, composing himself.

“Aye, she’s just had one too many Kitty Crunchies....she’s a bit hyper....Father Eric’s with her now, settling her down.....”

Just at that moment, Nettie scampered past the choir, stopping only to vomit up a furball on Ina’s brown suede designer boots.  She was followed in hot pursuit by a breathless Father Eric, shouting, “Nettie, Nettie, that’s very naughty!”

Shug bent down and scooped Nettie up. She was so small, she fitted neatly into the palm of his hand. As he stroked her furry little face, he felt a tug at his left sleeve. He smiled indulgently and as he put the tiny, tortoiseshell kitten back on the floor, the left sleeve of his new arran sweater fell off.

Shug gasped.  It had taken his great Aunt Jemima three years to knit it for him. 

In one fell swoop, Nettie was off with the sweater sleeve dragging behind her, swerving between the choristers legs, wool flying behind her, finally leaping into Father Eric’s arms where she nestled cosily, possessively gripping the sweater sleeve between her little paws. She tugged at it with her sharp little teeth, deftly unravelling the soft, cream wool and winding it around her paws.

“Sorry Shug” said Father Eric, embarrassed. “She needs the arran wool for the Val Doonican special.....”

Nettie stared and blinked at Shug.

Shug smiled wanly.

©2010 Steven Gorman.  All rights reserved.