MacPetty- the Scottish Play. A Forumshire Tragedy.

On a wind buffeted ridge overlooking Buckie castle two figures stood and watched as a procession exited through the gate.

Though it was late morning the sky was heavy with dark clouds so that there was no way even to tell the time of day by the passage of the sun, its light was muted and all but lost and there was no warmth in the harsh windy air.

Over the procession, at the head of which in a barrel carriage rode Petty and Lady Figg, the ravens of Buckie Castle circled and croaked.

It had been one week since Eldo's murder.

One of the figures on the ridge was an old man who leant upon a gnarled staff, his cloak whipped at his sides in the strong breeze.

Beside him stood Bungo, holding his cloak tightly about himself to keep out the dreary chill.

Even the haggis upon the heather banks were silent about them and most hid in their burrows.

“Threescore and ten I can remember well, “ the old man said to Bungo, “and I have seen some unsettling shit I can tell you, and some poor use of crabbit, but this trifles all former memories.”

“Aye, good father, “ Bungo replied, “By the clock it is day, and yet the Bad day is Breaking under a darker night,” he paused and looked up at the heavy sky, so dark his eye could barely pierce it, “Is it night taking over, or is the day ashamed to see the misuse of crabbit that darkness covers the earth when bright day should be Breaking and not be Bad?”

The old man looked at him quizzically, “Aye,” he agreed eventually, “It's not natural the deed that’s been done in the name of crabbit,” he leant closer to Bungo conspiratorially, “On Tuesday last,” he went on in a suddenly hoarse and whispered tone, “they say PJ filmed an entire scene using only Tolkien's own dialogue. The world is amiss!”

“And I heard,” Bungo whispered back, “and this is a thing most strange but absolutely true, no less than six ladies, by strange circumstance, all fell into Odo's jelly tub at once, without Breaking anything Bad, but they turned wild in their nature, and tore each others clothes off.”

“I heard they eat each other,” the old man winked back.

“Oh, you Bad old bugger!” Bungo said shocked.

But just then up the track that wound along the ridge a figure came, his hood up against the elements. He slowed as he approached and drew back the hood and revealed himself as Orwell beneath it.

“How goes it?” Bungo cried in greeting.

Orwell joined them on the ridge and watched the tale of the procession disappearing into the gloom of day.

He waved an arm in its direction, “Why do you ask?” he said, “Can't you see?”

Bungo hesitated, not sure in what direction Orwell's mind lay regarding Petty, he ventured a probing question, but one that did not give his own thoughts away either, “Is it known who did this bloody deed?”

Orwell looked him steadily in the eye, “Those that Petty killed,” he said slowly.

Bungo cursed, the probing question had been lobbed back over the net and into his half of the court, he choose his next words carefully, “A terrible day it was that Admin died,” he ventured and noted just the slightest flicker of agreement in Orwell's eyes, it was time to ask the leading question, “What did they hope to achieve?”

Orwell replied steadily, “They were paid for, by Lance and Malick, who have run away and that puts the suspicion on them.”

And so thought Bungo, to the nub of the matter, “Then its most likely the Admin will fall on Petty,” he said, a statement of fact this time, not even a question.

Orwell smiled, just slightly, an ironic smile it seemed to Bungo, “He is already named, and gone to Needlehole to be invested.”

“And where is Eldo's body?” Bungo enquired.

“Carried to the Tower of Lore, and buried beneath Baingil's shoe mountain.”

Bungo considered this, and the haste with which everything had proceeded, “Will you go to Needlehole?” he asked nodding in the direction the procession had gone.

Orwell smiled again, this time it was a full smile, one that was about to share a secret, “No, Bungo, I'll go home to Russet Bog.”

“So,” Bungo thought, “he does oppose our new Admin,” and then aloud to Orwell and with a smile of his own he replied, “Well, I will go.”

Orwell's smile faded away “Well, may you see things are done properly there,” he managed, “good day to you,” and he turned and walked back down the path and disappeared into the hazy and dark day.



Odo paced in a hallway in Needlehole Castle deep in thought, one hand scratching at his enormous forehead.

“You have it all now Petty,” he was thinking, “Admin, Needlehole, Buckie, all of it, just as the disrespectful sweary weird women said, and, I fear, you misused your crabbit terribly for it,” he shook his head in unhappy mood but then a thought occurred to him, “but they did say you would not hold on to it, and quite right too, what with your lack of respect for the finer things in life like vintage jelly, and you have no nobility of character, you do no charitable works for Eru with the Sixth Form Girls of the Ankle Length Frock,” he stopped his pacing, the last two elements in his thoughts, jelly and the sixth form, collided somewhere in his oblong head and he momentarily forgot what it was he had originally been thinking of, he shook his head again getting his mind back on track, “the sweary women said I would be the root of many Admins to come,” that thought pleased him greatly even if he would have preferred that he had been Admin himself, he had a fantastic head for an Admins crown to sit upon after all, “If they spoke true to you Petty, then maybe they can be my oracles as well and set me up in hope, and a very good retirement.”

But just then his thoughts were rudely interrupted as the large double doors at halls end were flung back with a ringing slam that echoed down the corridor towards him and a mob of people followed, with Petty and Lady Figg at their head.

The whole troop swept up upon Odo and Petty greeted him with warm words but a less warm demeanour, “Here's our chief guest!”

Figg took his hands in her own and smiled into his face in a way that wrangled his brain and melted his heart, “If he had been forgotten, “ Figg purred at him as if she were one of her cats, “It would have been a great absence in our feast,” she reached up a gentle, soft hand and stroked his forehead, “And not at all respectable of us.”

Odo suddenly felt as if he had become one with his beloved jelly as his limbs wobbled. He was brought firmly back out of it by Figg letting his hand go and Petty slamming a hoary hand down on his shoulder, “Tonight we hold a solemn supper, black buckie, I'll request your presence.”

“Of course, it would hardly be respectable of me to miss it,” Odo sniffed in reply.

“Are you going riding this afternoon?” Petty enquired.

Odo looked at him slightly puzzled by why it should interest Petty, “Yes,” he said.

“Is it far that you ride?” Petty pressed further.

Odo arched an eyebrow, which took some time as there was a lot of forehead for it to arch into, “As far as will use up the time between now and supper,” there was something about this line of questing which was making Odo nervous although he could not put his finger on what it was, “I really should be getting started in fact, “ he added and turned to walk away.

“Fail not our feast,” Petty called after him, “there will be jelly, by the tub full.”

Odo half turned and slowed but did not stop, “I won't,” he said.

“We hear Lance is bestowed in Essex,” Petty said and Odo stopped and walked back to hear what Petty had to say, “they will not confess to their crime but fill their hearers with strange invention, but we can talk about that tomorrow,” he smiled at Odo, “well, get going then,” he said.

Odo nodded and again walked away but he had not gone three paces when Petty asked innocently, “Is Sunny going with you?”

Odo stopped again and turned round to face Petty “Yes, he is,” he said growing impatient and flustered now, “and time is getting on,” he reminded.

“Of course. Farewell.”

Odo walked away again and this time Petty watched him go without further interruption.
Figg came and stood by his side and took his hand in hers, it felt cold to her touch.

“Let everyone do as they please until seven tonight,” he said dismissing the followers. He glanced at Figg who smiled at him but with a frown on her head. He pulled his hand from hers, “I will spend some time alone until supper,” he said flatly.

Figg hesitated, saw the dark look in Petty's eyes and with a walk which left any watcher in no uncertain terms that its owner was pissed off, she left with the others.

Only one man remained behind, a tall thin man with spindly fingers and a balding head.

“Are they here?” Petty asked him and the man nodded.

“They are,” the man replied in a thin papery voice.

“Then bring them before me,” Petty ordered.

The man nodded and left. Petty walked over to one of the high and vaulted windows, beyond its pale glass a thin rain was falling and the gloom seemed to press close against the panes.

“To be Admin is nothing, but to be Admin forever,” he mused crabbitly to himself, “Our fears in Odo stick deep; and in his respectability of nature reigns that which is to be feared, it is much he will dare for his jelly. And in that ginormous head of his there is business acumen which guides him to act safely within the letter, if not the spirit, of the law. There is no one else but him that I fear, and with him alive my crabbit is rebuked,” he thumped a fist down against the window sill, “When the sweary sisters first put the name of Admin on me he demanded they speak to him, and then prophet like they hailed him the source of a line of Admins, and put a barren ban hammer in my grip,” he turned from the window a look of despair on his face, “If that is so then for Odo have I defiled my crabbit, for him have I the tax deductible Eldo murdered, been put off my buckie, only for him! To make him the source of Admins to come!” he yelled in rage and it echoed all up and down the corridor and rang back in his own ears.

The door reopened and the thin man appeared at them, behind him were two slouched figures in shell suits, cigarettes hung from both their mouths and each had a bottle of buckie stuck half in half out of a pocket.

Petty waved the two men in and the thin man left again and closed the door behind him.

Petty turned to the two Neds and said, “Well then, have you thought about what I told you yesterday? That it was Odo who in times past withheld your buckie, which you thought had been me, I explained to you how it was him who got your dealer busted, and how he is a do gooder and busy body of the worst sort, so that anyone with even half a brain such as yourselves would know to say, 'It was Odo did it to me.'”

“Aye mate,” the smaller of the two Neds said in a nasal whine, “yi gie us aw the patter an' that.”

“I did, and I went further, which is the point of this second meeting,” Petty said, “Are you so wasted you can just let this go? Doesn't the buckie make you up for it any more? Are you going to let this man rip the piss right out of you, for ever more?”

“We're jist wee neds, and there's oanly tae o us, yi ken wi like tae roam in packs like,” the second Ned said.

“Aye,” Petty agreed, “in the catalogue you go for neds, as wee scottie dogs, those yappie ones that go for postman and the little wiry ones that smell like damp carpet are all called by the name of dogs, the valued file distinguishes the crabbit, the non-crabbit, the buckied, the sober, each according to their gifts,” he paused, the neds faces were screwed up with concentration, “Now, if you have a place in the file, not in the worst ranks of nedhood is it, and if you carry this off , and take out your enemy, you can have all the buckie and heroin you can eat.”

“I'm wan, Admin,” the first Ned said, “whase life is sae shite like, that I'm totally mental wi it and didnae huve a scooby whit I dae oanymair.”

“Aye, I'm ainuther nutjob,” the second Ned butted in, not wanting to be outshone in Ned bravado, “Ma lifes sae shite a cannae even 'member whaes wains are mine an which urnae, I'd daie oanying tae git they mad bitches aff ma case like.”

“And both of you know, Odo is your enemy?” Petty pressed, wanting to make absolutely sure they knew who they were after.

“Aye,” they both nodded.

“And he is mine,” Petty confined in them, “I could, with bare faced crabbit sweep him from sight, but I must not, for certain friends we have in common would wail at his death, and they I cannot afford to make crabbit, that is why I turn to you, hiding the act for weighty matters of state.”

The two neds looked at each other and nodded, “We'll dae it,” the short one said.

“Excellent!” Petty exclaimed, “It must be done today, before the feast tonight, and some distance away,” he instructed them, “and to leave no witnesses, his boy Sunny too.”

“Aw noo haud on!” the taller Ned began to say but Petty interrupted him.

“And his boy,” he reaffirmed with force, “whose absence is no less important to me than is his fathers,” he leant in closer to the two Neds so they could feel the crabbit within him turned to darkness, “Resolve yourself or you may give me cause to become crabbit at you,” he warned.

The Neds gulped and then the shorter one assured in a shaky voice, “We're resolved, totally resolved.”

“Then go,” Petty ordered and much relieved the two neds turned and left.

“Its concluded,” Petty said tuning back to the window, “Odo,your soul's flight, if it take you to Eru, must find Him tonight,” he intoned and stared out into the thickening rain that streamed down the pane in long tear shaped streaks.

i was thinking of starting reading this and then:

“Will it still be fucking raining?” Norc asked water dripping from the brim of her pointy hat and trickling down her hooked and warty nose.

“There to meet with Petty” Azriel said triumphantly ignoring Norc.

Norc peered down at the distant battle, “Which of those fuckers is he again?”

what?!

Its traditional Norc, you are one of the three witches, warts, hooked noses and hair like year old straw are mandatory  

 At last, I have a mental picture of Norc. Hurrah!


{{{Btw Petty O'laddie - }}}

fuck u.

Petty - I will read this as soon as I have finished mine... which I hope is very soon.

Norc wrote:fuck u.

Oh my...  

I will read this as soon as I have finished mine- Lance

I suspect you will finish yours long before I finish this, so no need to hurry.

Thanks Orwell, I am enjoying writing this although its proving quite, challenging.

Norc wrote:i was thinking of starting reading this and then:

“Will it still be fucking raining?” Norc asked water dripping from the brim of her pointy hat and trickling down her hooked and warty nose.

“There to meet with Petty” Azriel said triumphantly ignoring Norc.

Norc peered down at the distant battle, “Which of those fuckers is he again?”

what?!

Of course, Norc, you're one of the witches in here, and a damn brilliant one. If I was turned into a sorcerer I'd expect maybe one squinty eye and one bug-eyed, and nothing wrong with it. It's the character, like a Halloween costume.

well.. ii'lll read it, it's on my list

Pettytyrant101 wrote:
As the gate swung back a clearly annoyed Orwell strode in, with Forest by his side.
...
“It was a shit night where we were,” Forest said by way of small talk whilst they waited, “our buckie was blown over, and there were strange sweary lamentations on the air, screams in the foulest Fjordian language. The haggis clamoured the night long and some even say the earth was feverous and shook.”
...
“I cant remember a worse night,” Forest said, “but then I wasn’t here for last years Forum Awards.”

Hey, I got a part in the story. How about that.  

I'm afraid all the newcomers only get bit parts really, until you have been on the forum for me long enough to get to know you well enough to start taking the piss that is.  

as in that midsummer night tale?

Pettytyrant101 wrote:I'm afraid all the newcomers only get bit parts really, until you have been on the forum for me long enough to get to know you well enough to start taking the piss that is.  

Sounds like I'll have to start working on building up a forum identity.
Now where to find a good role model to follow after...

Norc wrote:Fuck You

Aha! There we go.

 

that's not even a correct quote. i wrote 

Norc wrote:fuck u.

big difference. no capital letters, shortened down "you" and a punctuation.
totally different meaning than

forest sheperd said Norc wrote:Fuck You

so excuse me for wanting to be quoted correctly.

I had not realised there was such subtly in meaning in text speak Norc!- this must be a youth thing Ive missed.  

Is one version more friendly than the other? Or is it some other difference in meaning?  

oh.. look at this ignorant adult specimen..

Norc wrote: oh.. look at this ignorant adult specimen..

omg yes how diffucolt can it be to und3rstnd b@sic tiping sklls like whut we yung peeps havelolsrsly getover it

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f u 2

 

Hey give your elders some respect young lady!  

The only mobile phones when I was growing up were telephone boxes being moved on the back of lorries. There was no such thing as texting and so I have never used it. Besides its bad enough what Americans have done to the language without texting ruining it even more  

So I am not up on the subtleties of meaning conveyed by reducing perfectly good words to single meaningless letters. Just smacks of laziness frankly  

So you need to explain when you get crabbit over its misuse what the problem actually is, to those of us who might be too ancient to understand it.

oh cum on m8!

You see, useless and open to dangerous misinterpretation- that could be an instruction!   (And not one any of my mates would appreciate  )

Pettytyrant101 wrote:
The only mobile phones when I was growing up were telephone boxes being moved on the back of lorries. There was no such thing as texting and so I have never used it. Besides its bad enough what Americans have done to the language without texting ruining it even more  

Hey!  

Well you did- I mean where did all the u's go?

color spells col-or, not colour. flavor spells flav-or, not flavour. And its not even like you just got difficult ones wrong, I mean how the hell can you manage to spell grey wrong