The Needlehole Mysteries [2]

One can never have too many young Chicky Babes around the place, Odo...

I could do with one less, Orwell!

adult (ery)

odo banks wrote:I could do with one less, Orwell!

but that wd still leave quite alot

I see, Odo - I see....

Hey, Norc... this is for your Mum... {{{Bet that'll get that Spring Chicken's legs wobbling... }}}

CC12 35 wrote:

odo banks wrote:I could do with one less, Orwell!

but that wd still leave quite alot

Yes, but I don't mind the others..

ouch

Orwell wrote:One can never have too many young Chicky Babes around the place, Odo...

odo banks wrote:Norc's Mum is 50? Typical! Yet another young person around the place! Where are the the maturer folk, hmm? Where?

My mom is even younger, but we still sometimes say she's old.

no one is old at fifty! they're just slightly getting mature

because im a child i needed to get myself a giant black & white cookie for this train ride to boston. id show you but it's gone.

My heart feels 30yrs but the exterior is letting me down !

know the feeling bro.. i just wanna draw ponies and whatch MLP all day. and lotr.

Norc wrote:no one is old at fifty! they're just slightly getting mature

slightly mature? next it'll be slightly ripe...

Like an old banana I must be the whole bunch !

Sometimes normally sweet sayings like, "Young at heart," just don't seem to cut it...

like an old banana

If it's any consolation, I've never thought of anybody here in Forumshire as mature.
{{yes, I think that says it all.... }}

i am very mature thank you very much

omg, i couldn't say that with a straight face!

David,sweety, do you mean "mature" numerically, physically OR.....MENTALLY !!
(cos thats me out of ONE of those catergories!)

I am the same mental age as my cat. No she is far more mature and sensible.

Ringo didn’t really know how to interpret that, but he gladly put on the mask, avoided looking in the many mirrors strategically placed around the house and got to work. It was, as Mrs Figg had pointed out, a very physical job.

He soon got the hang of the eels too, although he’d never wrangled eels before. Herring, yes, not eels. Mrs Figg also had other creatures too, crabs, blowfish and nasty, venomous dragon fish (the protection came in handy on several occasions). Ringo’s first day, or night really, went surprisingly well. He had some cock-ups but Mrs Figg chose to brush them off as “beginner’s mistake” and he was releaved.

After working there for some weeks he hit his first bump in the road. He was wrangling a particularly queer octopus in place before the next client when the doorbell rang. His heart sank to somewhere in his ballsack as he saw that it was no other than Eldo walking in. He pulled down his mask, which he had momentarily taken off, and ducked behind the desk. He cursed under his breath. Mrs Figg was somewhere else in the building, he had to face him if he didn't do something quick. The other forumshiren residents who payed Mrs Figg’s house of Eels and Pleasures a visit where thick enough to not recognize him, but Eldo would never fall for a simple mask.

He used his awesome Viking/ninja skills and slipped into the furry office behind. There he almost crashed into Figg! She looked puzzled and a bit too cheerful.
“oh, but mr Herring, what’s the rush, isn’t there a client there?”
“yes. But, uhm, you see I have to erm… it’s eeeeh..”
“it’s okay, I’ll take him, you go and finish up the rooms.” He nodded gratefully and disappeared upstairs. As he cleaned up what he hoped dearly was yogurt he had some time to let his thoughts wander. What on earth was Eldo doing here? This was surely not job related! Not if he was to judge by the look Eldo had when he came in. Ringo had never seen him in anything but his usually white shirt and casual suit and tie, but it looked like Eldo was wearing something from Ringo’s closet. No, this didn’t make sense. And he had promised to not visit Mrs Figg’s again. Ringo wanted to confront him with it, but how? Officially he didn’t work here. No, he had to think carefully about this. Maybe it really was work related, undercover somehow (but how can one really be undercover in such a small community?). Though, when he walked out of the room, as he had finished cleaning it, he heard laughter from one of the doors, and he came to the conclusion this was not work related. It was clearly Mrs Figg’s merry laughter and the male voice was no doubt Eldo’s.
“oh” Mrs Figg’s voice squeeled “What are you doing, dear”
“sorry, Julia, I guess I'm better with lots of tentacles than lots of legs.”

Mrs Figg is a squealer, then?

you noticed you've been mis-quoted?