Tuesday, 24 July 2018

The Local Vicar - Episode 80

Gaynor’s watching the rain, gallons of it, a non stop torrent, it’s like end of the world rain she thinks. Earlier, she watched Paul struggle to bring in the washing she’d left on the line yesterday. She’s never seen the lard arse move so fast, it was like watching the quickened pace of a silent film. With that in mind, she’d hummed a honky tonk medley suitable for the scene of a pissed wet, fat one armed loser, struggling with a washing line of woman’s underwear in a hurricane. Funnier still, old Mrs Dixon was soaked by a runaway bus on her way to the market. She’d stepped out of the shelter, not realising the approaching bus was the Express and whoosh, was drenched from head to toe by a tsunami of Manchester’s finest dirty rainwater. To add insult to injury, she then clocked Gaynor and the local vicar in fits of laughter, watching her from the bay window. Mrs Dixon, usually a respectable woman, widowed on several occasions, lost it momentarily and raised the two fingered salute in reply.