Another Short Story from One-Eye's Travels...

One-Eye’s Tale  Continues

We left old One-Eye snoring gently, face down in a bowl of pickled moles. Limp had gone outside for some fresh air, only to go limp from the numerous rounds. He woke up some time later to find a heavy dew had settled during the darker hours.

"Gerroffome, will you, Rabbi Goldstein!"

Shaking hands with his best friend, Limp signed the flower bed and strolled back into the bar to see where One-Eye had had gone. The other one was still there, but the left one was gummy and caked with sleep. Still, being a cheery cockney, he soon spotted old One-Eye and the pickled moles. Giving his best pal a dig in the ribs, he chirped, “Wotcher! Drinking again One-Eye? “

"Why thank you my dear boy! Barman! I'll have a pint of Uncle Elmersh number 5 pleash..." Now considerably refreshed, One-Eye laid his arm around Limp's shoulders. "Say, how's about we go do some water-skiing later, I know where we can get some water skis dead cheap - Candy's selling hers. They have never been used; she bought them a year or so ago, but got fed up because she couldn't find a lake with a slope. But I think I'd better have a hair of the dog, before we go and do the chores, Limp - after all, you have quite a few to do."

This totally threw Limp, after all, he'd been on laundry and washing up duty three weeks running. "Chores? What chores?" He said, somewhat indignantly...

(all together now...)

“Barman! I'll have a pint of Uncle Elmer's number 5 please - my wonderful friend here is buying. Oh, and a hair of the dog too."

Galland, a very worn and patchy looking Retriever, cocked an ear at this and rolled over to make a quick getaway, dislodging Speedy the Chihuahua from his warm "nest". Speedy just turned around three times as Galland made a dash for the dog flap, and settled down in a pile of faux beaver furs that some trapper (or was it a TV mogul) had left in the corner. No hurry for Speedy, after all - hair of the dog was no business of his.

Over at the bar, Fritz's third cousin Johann, thrice removed (...from his car - driving under the affluence of incohol) had just arrived in from the old country and was twiddling the knobs on the club radio set. There were some odd hisses and crackles, and then he tuned in to the marine network.

There was obviously some trouble on the water somewhere because a voice was constantly repeating "Mayday, mayday. We are sinking."

Being a polite and efficient Teuton, Johann pressed the talk button, "Hello, zis is Johann... vot are you sinking about?" There was a spluttering three seats down the bar, as One-Eye choked on a bit of mole. Well, it was actually a beauty spot on Sandy's cheek, but she didn't seem to mind much. Oh, we haven't introduced Sandy yet... Sandy is shandy Candy's randy sister, with the handy dandy mole.

She purred in One-Eye's ear: "Don't you think we should introduce Limp to Wanda?"

"Good idea Sandy! Hey, Limp - rather than lurk around in bars all alone, how's about us fixing you up with a date with old John Nuther's sister Wanda? You'll love that."

Now you ought to know this: Limp was a frustrated playboy, knew what, but didn't know who... always solo... "Yeah, that sounds cool. One-Eye. Interesting name... Wanda Nuther..."

...oh dear...