Troy - The True Story

FinsburyParkCarrots

Gogmagogs, Wandlebury, Cambridge, 1250 BC, near Budgens. A bit of brown gurgling swamp, a few mosquitos flapping about banging into one another, and one or two nice trees here and there. And some ye olde sunne shining a bit. Sounds of creaking and splashing, and cries of "Heeeeeeeeeeaaaaave hoooooooooo!!, Heeeeeeeeeeeeeavvve hoooooooooooo!!"approaching from the dank mire mist. Then, mid-distance, the sight of a giant galley ship, the prow festooned with a gigantic stuffed octopus, approaching across the muddy fen. More Heeeeeeeeeeeaving and creaking, huffing and puffing as the ship shunts forward into view. On the deck, AGAMEMNON, eating a packet of cod and chips; ODYSSEUS, looking through his binoculars, and sundry armoured fellows standing about whispering whether they'll get time for a swift half and game of skittles after a bit.

AGAMEMNON: Face it, we're lost.

ODYSSEUS: No, I'm telling you this is the site of Troy. Definitely. The soothsayer said, just as we were pulling out from Norwich - - (shouts down the deck at the galley slaves) - - Heeeeaveee!!! Heaaaave!!! Keep rowing!!! Of course it's water!!! - - yes, the soothsayer said, if the eagle flies invisibly over the bus shelter outside the dole office at approximately 38 degrees backwards singing Green Green Grass of Home so quietly only fish and he with his psychic ear can hear it, then we must sail on for Cambridge, dear boy.

AGAMEMNON: Heeeeeeaveeee hooooooooo!!!! Heeeeavvvvve hoooooooo!!!!!!!

(sounds from the galley, groans)

Heeeeeeeaveeeee hooooooooo!!!!!! Heeeavvvvvvvve hooooooooo!!!!!!!!

Are you sure this isn't dry land?

ODYSSEUS: Nah, mate. This is ye mighty fabled Hellespont, watery pass between the great Occident and all things mysterious and East.

AGAMEMNON: Well, I saw a sign saying Welcome to East Anglia, Road Services Half a Mile: jellied blood pie, elk's armpit saveloys and Peasants' Delight served while u wait... That's when I jumped off ship to buy these chips ...

ODYSSEUS: What's Peasants' Delight?

AGAMEMNON: Septic newt, rancid buttermilk pastry and lashings of hot voles' nose served with a delicious essence of yak.

ODYSSEUS: Yum.

AGAMEMNON: (Pointing ahead) Pass us your binoculars a sec, Oddy, I think I see someone coming this way. Funny looking chap: red face, freckles, hair sticking shock up, big moon eyes, two sets of front teeth. Hopping this way with a wheelbarrow full, if I'm not mistaken, with turnips.

ODYSSEUS: That must be the beautiful Paris Alexandros, captor of the fair Helen of Menelaos.

(calls out)

Hey, You Sir!!!!

(Yokel hops happily up to ship with wheelbarrow cranking, dropping turnips aplop into the swampy bog)

YOKEL: Ooooo - heeehooo heehoooo heehhoooo me, sir? Ya wants meeee? A huuurrr hurrrr heee harroooooo oi'm a jiggly box of frogs as oi was walkin' the market road come all ye young rovers harrooo harroooo ...... foidee diddle oi doh....

ODYSSEUS (to Agamemnon): Yes, definitely the hallmark of royalty.

AGAMEMNON: What, the webbed feet?

ODYSSEUS (to the Yokel): My lord, be you Paris Alexandros, son of mighty Priam, famed principal of Troy, brother of the mighty Hector, captor of the beautiful Helen, wife of Menelaos, brother of Agamemnon, this bloke here?

YOKEL (Munching a turnip): Say oi warrssss .... (munch munch) ..... an' say oi warrrsssnt .... ( crunch crunch) .... Dat be plain te say, in plain English loike is plain as plain can be ... dat oi moight be .... an' oi just moightn't ... (chew munch etc)

ODYSSEUS: The fellow's an expert equivocator!! Master of evasion. Ahhh, that's a sign of nobility! Sheeer class! We're no match for this philosopher king. Oh yes, this chap's a slick operator, smooth ...

YOKEL: (Munch munch ....)

ODYSSEUS: ... Debonair ...

YOKEL: (Scratches his fleas)

ODYSSEUS: Sophisticated, versed in the subtleties of linguistic acrobatics....

YOKEL: (Burps) ... urrrr, beg 'scusin' moi pardon....

ODYSSEUS: Yes, the poor dear Helen didn't stand a chance with a bounder of his consummate finesse. (To Yokel.) Now, Sir Cad, cruelhearted Trojan lothario, tell me this, by the name of mightiest Zeus, son of Mike Chronos, kazoo player with the legendary Elvin Chronos and the Chronos Brothers: Where is the precious Helen kept, so that we may escort her back up the mighty waters of Wandlebury out to Great Yarmouth, for a nice day out to see Keith Harris and Orville the Duck perform Babes in the Woods with the Moscow State Stoatwobblers?

YOKEL: Ah, dat'd be tellin'....

ODYSSEUS: The implacability!

AGAMEMNON: The guile!

ODYSSEUS: The ... horr-or... the horr-or.....

YOKEL: Oi loves the smell of turnips in dah mornin' ....

AGAMEMNON: Apacketofchips Now?

YOKEL: Did anybody see moi goat?

AGAMEMNON: Ahhh, the cunning of the man! Riddle me riddle me wry! Ten years of vicious war ahead, fighting on the beaches of ... er... Newport Pagnell....

ODYSSEUS: O Sing, sing in me --

YOKEL: Yow what?

ODYSSEUS: Quiet! I'm incanting! O sing in me muse, the song of Cherry Hinton Ladies' Darts Society, who met every Thursday Night in the Pig and Whistle to play 301 and eat copious ham and cucumber sandwiches at the interval, while noble Paris sat in the corner singing Ode To A Lump of Coal while harbouring the secret whereabouts of the mysterious Helen of Mycenae, beauteous bewitching bride of our great feared ruler of Sparta....

AGAMEMNON: Or we could just go for that game of skittles.

ODYSSEUS: Let's do that then. Paris? Never mind Helen - and no, I DON'T want the rest of your turnip! Come on, we're going to the Pig and Whistle...

(Exeunt all. Ship sinks in brown gurgles... a cowpat-fly nods sagely. Yes. Yes. He understands.)

ISN

Justice and Strength are Invincible.....

motto of teh day.....and a hey.....nonny hey.....

I have so much catching up to do.....but I'll read this tonight after dinner......I still have to read a lot in Ophelia's Nun

FinsburyParkCarrots

Hello, may I speak to Wilfred, please?

Who?

Hello, may I speak to Wilfred, please?

I'm sorry, I'm afraid you've got the wro--

Wilf! Good to talk to you again, old chap. Bernard here! I was meaning to call you up for ages! You know, I was saying to Daisy only tonight, just as she'd made the crumpets for me -- you know she always makes nice buttered crumpets for me and brings them into the living room for me, to go with me cocoa -- I said, you know Daisy, of all the detective shows I like watching on the telly, this one's the best -- the fella's good, he really knows how to reveal the baddy, and he gets everybody out on the veranda with cigars and the cultured talk, lulling them all into a false sense of security --

Excuse me --

-- and then he sets about his summing up, and goes through unmasking the murderer , cool as you like, replete with his maverick eeleegance as you call it -- and I said You know Daisy, my mate Wilfy down the Labour Club reads all the books of these stories as well!, and she said, Why don't you give him a call, you haven't been out since you hit your big toe off the bannister that time you tried to be first to get the paper chasing the dog down the stairs and oooooo!, you hit the toe whack and the toe went all blue and we thought you'd broken it and you got into the habit of staying in, and I said to her --

Yes, well, I'm afraid I haven't got time for --

-- I said to her, and you'll laugh, Wilfy, I said Yes, I'll just do that because I have his number written
in my little diary, I know I have, on top of the sideboard underneath the jamjar where we keep the bookies' pens and pools coupons-- I know it's there somewhere in the back -- and I went through the list but these glasses aren't the best, I have the wing stuck on with sellotape for the time being, and my granddaughter, the youngest says Grandad Bernie's head's too big!, and she's right, I'd say, hehehe!, and anyways, I went through the list and I found your number in the end even though I hadn't written your name down next to it, but I knew it had a five in it so, here I am, old boy! Now, what's your news!

This number you dialled hasn't got a five in it.

-- What's that? Speak up, old chap, the receiver's a bit rattly. Daisy dropped it when she was dusting it the other day and Bogwash - that's our dog, you know - jumped out when he thought he heard the postman coming up the path for second delivery and caught the wire and this old blower hasn't been working the same since -- in fact, it doesn't ring the same, I keep thinking it's next door's 'phone! But yes, speak up, and if you could try to speak around the rattles that'd be a great help. Yes, go on --

Sir, this is a cheese shop. We're closed.

A cheap shot? I wouldn't make a cheap shot at you, me old matey, no not your old mate Bernie. So, how's everybody down the club then? Now, let me see, there was Stanley the old gardener who was going with Mrs Pinkerton, the pigeon racer, and then there was old Cyril, the retired butcher who always used to win at Ludo until Bob the window cleaner thrashed him in an epic session and retired him for good, and then there was Mrs --

We sell Red Leicester, Brie, Danish Blue, Cheddar, Stilton, Gordonzola --

Gordon Zola, yes, he was a funny one!-- reckoned he was descended from a famous novelist, or was it a footballer, I can't remember. Sat in the corner blowing his moustache all the time like this... phfffffrrpppp, phffffffrrrrppppp!!!! He said it was a tune his uncle used to play in an army band. Never asked what instrument, but I bet it was a trombone. He'd inherited the look of a trombonist. He had that sense of looking ahead about him --

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's better Wilfy, I think I could just about make out something there. He works in Sid's Cafe, you say? Yes, I heard that. But of course, I haven't been in to see. They always had those plastic yellow table covers and the squeezy ketchup pots that didn't work because the ketchup had dried inside the top, and they didn't like you to unscrew the top because they said it was unhygienic and spolt the ambience of the place. Ah yes, I remember Sharon with the tattoos who used to serve. Champion armwrestler in Chepstow for three successive seasons, I hear. Yes, you used to get a good plate of egg and chips with mushy peas for under two quid, and lashings of tea. Aaaaaaaahhhh yes....

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Aaaaaaaahh, yes, those were the days. So, Wilf. Nice chatting to you. Give my love to Mrs Wilf, haha! Yes, take care! What's that? Yes? Sorry, can't catch that. Anyway. Nice to hear Reg Lester's three Spanish new terriers still turn on Gordon Zola, hahah!!!! Great stuff!!! Worth 'phoning for!!! Haha!!! Phffffrrrppppp, eh? Ouch!! Hahaha!!! Alright, chappy! All the best! Take care! Love to your family! See you! Bye!!!

FinsburyParkCarrots

The other bloke's voice should be in italics. I forgot.

ISN

absolutely brilliant.....!!!!!!

I say Wilfy speak up.....what's that you say?

that was great......a rollicking good read......:)

sealed with teh ISN mark of approval

ruby

Heheheheh...that WAS good! Class

Traver DiDiminico

Fin...as a fellow writer (and all that that connotes) I must say that both "Troy" and "Wrong Number" deftly stradle the wire strung from insanity to brilliance. The mere fact that you made me consider the options--whose verity has yet to be determined--is enough to lean a smile accross my face as I remember why it is I do what I do.

Thank You,

Peter Kleb

(yes, that's my real name)

FinsburyParkCarrots

Thanks for that. Slightly off topic, are you still offering webhosting for MP3s? PM me. I've some demos.