Thursday, June 3, 2010

The Trumpeters Arms

It was a Monday night at Trumpies and the usual suspects were in attendance.
They had all consumed a fair bit at the weekend and just surviving the day coupled with several ales had put them all in a jovial state of mind.
Lindsay had just been informed he would not get anymore to drink and he then loaded the fireplace and placed a round log on top.
Being an architect Lindsay had joined several straws together to form one straw a metre and a half in length.
John had slipped behind the bar and removed the top off a bottle of red and Lindsay was consuming it through his makeshift straw.
The Round log had slipped off the top of the fireplace and was happily burning away on the carpet.
Everyone was so interested in Lindsay's little trick with the straws nobody noticed until they couldn't see the bloke next to them for smoke.
Moree was quick to react however and picked up the lit log at either end while The Bishop held open the front door.
Moree raced out through the door and rolled it down Trumpeter Street.
By the time it careered into Merv's fence it was doing approximately 60KM an hour.
The man from the insurance company says he thought he had seen everything until this.
Moree is telling everyone he has saved the pub from burning down.
Moree is a known pryromaniac and often stares at the fire burning for 4 hours without blinking.
All this on the same day The Bishop had discovered a female ancestor had been transported from Limerick - 15 years for arson.
It is all too much for The Bishop.
He orders the house red.
Lindsay has set up a police cordon like a crime scene with toilet paper.
He has all the paper in the Gents and has cleaned the Ladies out as well.
He has a notebook and is interviewing suspects as he calls them.
Given he started the fire in the first place he is clearly in a state of confusion.
It is a good thing the Landlord, Gordo is still recovering in hospital from a heart attack.
Gordo had in the state election given free beer to both major political parties to try and get them to abolish Land Tax.
He had also played the violin on the radio, television and even the local rag that nobody reads claiming he will have to lay off staff.
They rattled a tin but that got pinched by some greenies to buy patchouli oil.
All this to no avail
I was there the day Gordo had his heart attack.
I remember it well.
The postie burst in the door and threw down the mail.
Gordo slowly opened the electricity bill.
He went a funny colour, poured himself a beer and came and sat next to me.
The extra floor on the pub looks good but Gordo had not counted on the electricity it uses, especially, the lift that tourists keep getting stuck in.
Gordo started shaking, beer went all over the place and Gordo hit the floor, hard. He is a big man and it made a lot of noise.
I yelled out to Stephanie behind the jump "Look out there are Llamas!"
She said "what".
I said "I mean ring the ambulance - Gordo is croaking it over here".
As the ambulance drove off I went round and poured myself a jug.
The Little Tramp.

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