Posts Tagged ‘goth’

Kismet & Ketamine share everything....

Kismet & Ketamine shared everything

House Misnomer stood,proud and erect,in rolling,boiling gardens of green….a craggy edifice swaddled in an emerald gown.Usually…

On this particular day,a dark blemish marred the lush lawns…a black tumour.It was Marjorie,doing something unmentionable with a courgette.Gesundheit the Marrow was sat nearby,reading the Financial Times.

“Gold’s up.” he murmured,topically.

Into this idyll shambled the syphilitic,quadruped form of the Misnomer “twins”,Kismet & Ketamine.They hoved nightmarishly into view,blocking the sun and causing Gesundheit to shuffle off,tutting,in search of sufficient light to study the performance of his stock portfolio,which,with the demise of the entire Misnomer family,was considerable.

“Kismet is bored.”

“Ketamine is bored.”

Marjorie put the psychotic veggie to one side and looked up at her sisters-they were truly a sight to behold,even by her own rather,shall we say,unique standards.Not,as has been previously documented,genuine twins;not even similar in looks,height,weight or perversion,or even of the same age,they were, however, eternally bonded,down the side, into one appalling whole.

Marjorie sighed.”Now girls,you know we’re having Tallulah Miggins for tea later on.I’ve prepared an extra-special feast..cake,cucumber sandwiches and lashings of ginger beer.And then we’re going to play croquet,hopscotch and dress up our dollies in pretty dresses.” She jigged up and down,grinning hugely at the thought.

Kismet and Ketamine stared at each other,a look of bewilderment and incomprehension on their faces,then looked back at Marjorie.

Marjorie met their double-gaze.She was still grinning,but now in some awful,wrong way.

“Then I’m going to drive the little bitch out of her mind.”


A short distance away from the lush yet fatal lawns of House Misnomer stood a small cottage,entirely pink inside and out,incidentally next door to the cottage that once belonged to the late Sheila Lemony-Marchbanks.

One could,if one were suitably inclined,assume that Marjorie was working through the village in a methodical way,cottage by cottage,street by street.

And you would be correct in that assumption,for within this cottage lived the unfortunate guest of honour of the aforementioned tea-party.

Tallulah Miggins,blissfully unaware of the programme of events that was being planned,and seemingly oblivious to the mass murder that had become the norm within the stately grounds of House Misnomer,but instead focused on her afternoon tea appointment at the big house,and the need to dress for the occasion,etiquette being one of her “things,” was at this very moment trying on various outfits in her boudoir and soliciting constructive comments from her two dolls,Hollyoaks and Madame Flange,who were sat to attention on their Special Chairs. She had been doing this for quite some time.

Tallulah,who was pretty “special” herself,twirled gaily in a pink taffeta frock in front of the dolls.

“Well,ladies,will I do ?” she asked them.

Hollyoaks and Madame Flange,being two particularly fine examples of Victorian porcelain dolls,blinked their eyes twice in the affirmative.They didn’t much care what dress Tallulah wore that afternoon,but had been promised tea and cake and were in haste to be gone,so they were relieved when she appeared to have made a final satorial decision.They also aware that Tallulah had an almost infinite collection of pink taffeta dresses,all exactly the same.They neither saw any difference between them,nor appreciated the need to try on one hundred different examples of the same dress.

But they were only dolls,and were loyal to Tallulah,although it should be said that neither Hollyoaks nor Madame Flange entirely trusted Marjorie Misnomer,having heard unusual sounds coming from the neighbouring cottage the other day.

Looking at the clock,Tallulah shrieked: “Ooh time we were elsewhere,ladies! The big house awaits!”

Scooping up the two dolls in her arms,Tallulah flounced out of her boudoir and down the stairs,grabbing a monstrous yellow sun hat as she went,which she placed firmly on her head.Hollyoaks and Madame Flange were similarly attired in their Sunday best.Skipping jauntily out the door of her cottage,she greeted the day (Tallulah was like that) and continued her skipping progress down the road towards House Misnomer and,indeed,her certain doom.

Hollyoaks and Madame Flange hung on for dear life….something they would be doing quite a lot of that afternoon.



Marjorie Misnomer sat,proffering a teapot in the general direction of her guest,at the head of a long table,festooned with multitudinous cakes and other baked goodness,on the lawn of House Misnomer.

Tallulah Miggins paused with a chocolate eclair a mere inch from her mouth and exclaimed “Ooh yes please!”,offering up her bone-chine teacup for the requisite filling of.

Marjorie did the pouring,Tallulah the sipping.”Mm lovely!” she cooed,her little finger pointing,unwittingly,to where Gesundheit the murderous marrow now lay in wait,hidden,snickering.

“I’m so glad you could come to my party,Tallulah…and your little dollies,of course.” She narrowed her eyes at the two miniature playthings,sat next to Tallulah at the table in two high-chairs,a cup of untouched tea in front of each of them.Their scones were similarly un-nibbled.”We get so few guests here at House Misnomer,and with Daddy….away on business,it’s just me and the twins.”

“Oh how are Kismet and Ketamine,haven’t seen them for years?” gushed Tallulah,ramming jam tarts in her mouth.

Marjorie raised an eyebrow and smiled.Hollyoaks wet herself…Madame Flange’s tummy turned over.

“They are well…they don’t get out much,prefer their own company.They’re very…close….joined at the hip as my father used to…as he always says. But they will be joining us for tea quite soon….in fact here they come now!” said Marjorie,rising slightly to look up the lawn towards the House.She waved.

Tallulah,with yet another eclair halfway in her mouth,turned to look….Kismet and Ketamine were indeed shambling table-wards.Hollyoaks and Madame Flange also studied the approaching abomination,a dark worry bubbling in their porcelain hearts.Tallulah,ever the optimist,thought nothing of the extreme closeness of the two girls as they reached the table and sat down,seemingly on one,extra-wide chair.Her mother always taught her not to stare at,or think less of,those who may have,as old Ma Miggins put it,something “a bit not right” about them.And anyway,Marjorie had made sure the “twins” had had a bath before the party.They had protested but it was,as Marjorie,pointed out,a special occasion,and they wouldn’t need another one for months.With cries of “Kismet wants Matey!” and “Ketamine wants Matey!” ringing in her ears,Marjorie had picked out,in much the same way that Tallulah Miggins had done so,the twins’ best dress…dresses…dress from their admittedly limited wardrobe.

So…the “twins” were acceptable,nearly,to the untrained eye…but even so,Tallulah averted her gaze as they attempted to pour themselves a cup of tea,with much smashing of crockery,but she couldn’t work out why they only used one of their hands and not both…and they were sitting very close. Eventually they worked out a system whereby one girl poured tea into the others cup,and vice versa.They sipped happily,and became entranced by the two dolls,who had been equally transfixed with the twins since they had materialised. Hollyoaks and Madame Flange shifted nervously in their high-chairs.

“Kismet want dolly!”

“Ketamine want dolly!”

The dolls’s eyes fluttered nervously.Tallulah,for the first time,looked uneasily at Marjorie,who sat,with her arms draped silkily over the arms of her chair,like a black velvet and lace spider at the heart of a web,smiling.

Then she made a gesture…a tiny gesture that the normal person would not catch..but there was little that was normal about Kismet and Ketamine.

They understood perfectly…they had been released.

For two young woman,surgically fused together down the side,their respective right and left arms now a distant memory,but still possessing four legs…for all their inelegance,they had a remarkable turn of speed,something that came in useful when they were out for the evening,hunting cats.

Kismet and Ketamine,the Binary Badness,lunged across the table at the dolls,who were frozen with fear.Hollyoaks was grabbed by Kismet and Madame Flange by Ketamine.Being dolls,they were used to being hugged almost to death by excitable young women,but this was something different…something wrong.…they could feel it in their joints.Kismet,being the worse of the two,decided she wanted both dolls and started trying to pull Madame Flange away from her sister.An unpleasantness ensued,with the twins ending up on the ground,the dolls forgotten,as they ripped and tore at each other’s hair and face.Hollyoaks and Madame Flange lay on the tablecloth,near the scones,gasping.

Tallulah,not wishing to make a scene,being very British,turned to Marjorie: “Are they…umm…all right ?”

Marjorie,who had been silent,enjoying the scene,whispered silkily: “Oh yes,they’re just fine.More tea…oh no,now look what they’ve done…they’ve ripped their dress.” She pointed at the struggling sisters,who were now quite bloody,and finally,fatally,Tallulah noticed what had been bugging her all this time…they were so close,they seemed to be wearing the same dress.Also,when Kismet rolled over,Ketamine followed,almost as if they were…stuck together.

Tallulah Miggins stared…Kismet and Ketamine’s “dress” was ripped beyond repair…they were almost in the altogether,and what this revealed to the world at large was not something that Tallulah Miggins had any real,tangible words for.

They were indeed stuck together down the middle…Tallulah saw the ragged scar that marked their eternal bondage.She stared…and stared again as Kismet and Ketamine suddenly ceased their battle and shambled to their feet.Marjorie had also stood,coming round to stand behind Tallulah,who was dumbstruck,placing her hands on her shoulders.

Tallulah shivered.

“Now then,Tallulah…it’s time for-”

But she got no further,as Hollyoaks leapt up from among the scones and sank her teeth into Marjorie’s neck.Marjorie staggered back,bleeding heavily and tugging and smacking at the deadly dolly.Madame Flange,meanwhile,clutching a wicked-looking cake knife,hopped off the table and sank the blade into one of Kismet’s,or possibly it was Ketamine’s,legs.The twins collapsed to the ground,one of them screaming in agony,the other trying to get back up and wandering what all the fuss was about.

Madame Flange ran towards the flailing Marjorie to help Hollyoaks,but Marjorie saw her coming.She kicked out,sending Flange flying;she landed some distance away,it having been a very good punt on Marjorie’s part,despite the pain in her neck,in the gooseberry bush.Madame Flange lay still.Marjorie took hold of Hollyoaks by the neck…and twisted. Hollyoaks’ head popped off,making a noise that no-one would want to hear twice in their life…it may have been a tiny scream.Throwing  Hollyoaks’ head and body aside,where they snatched up by the twins,she pounced on Tallulah,who had been watching the madness as if from a distance,unable to move or act,and held her face in her hands.

“That’s why I never had any dolls when I was little!” roared Marjorie,cryptically.Her eyes were wide,quite mad.

“Now…I’m going to do to you what I did to your smelly little dolly….but slower.”

Marjorie’s hands tightened.

Finally,Tallulah acted.Not understanding the madness,but wanting to escape it more than anything,Tallulah cried out to anyone who may hear.

There was no one.


These are just some of the films that were on telly all the time when I was a nipper–I haven’t seen them since…’s like they’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth…

1.Zoltan,Hound of Dracula

Vampire dog eats unsuspecting American campers…what’s not to like?


Starring James Stewart,this is the one about the bloke with the imaginary friend in the shape of a 6-foot rabbit,funnily enough called Harvey.I saw it once during the 70s,and that was my lot.Honestly….when was the last time you ever saw or heard this film even being mentioned?? (It’s a terrible film,anyway…but well,it’s the principle of the thing…..)

3.Harold & Maude

Bud Cort plays Harold,a teenager obsessed with death who drives a hearse and regularly fakes his own death by staging increasingly elaborate suicide attempts..He meets Maude,played by Ruth Gordon,and an unlikely love affair unfolds.This film was on television pretty much weekly when I was young.It’s an emo’s wet dream,as goth as can be…..time for a remake,think of all the pale young teenagers it could inspire.

4.The Tenant (Le Locataire)

Another cinematic one-night-stand,directed by and starring Roman Polanski (not exactly Mr.Popularity right now,but he has made some of my favourite films),it tells the tale of a chap who moves into an apartment recently vacated by a woman who committed suicide by jumping from the apartment window.Gradually he comes to realise that everyone around him is trying to drive him to take his own life in exactly the same way.A great film for the paranoid.


Back when Channel 4 was a proper channel that showed programmes and films that people actually wanted to watch,this Wim Wenders film was on telly every month without fail.Starring Nastassja Kinski (who was a source of much comfort to me in my lonely teenage years) in a fluffy pink jumper,and Harry Dean Stanton as her father who is looking for her,Paris,Texas is another film that has been lost down the TV company sofa.(Also worth a mention is the twangy Ry Cooder soundtrack….you know the one I mean even if you’ve never seen the film)


The original with Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine this film is rarer than rocking horse doings…although throughout the 80s it was the only film the BBC had.


Starring a young Jenny Agutter,the actress single-handedly responsible for the boom in VCR sales during the 80s (but that’s another story),it tells the tale of a schoolgirl and her young brother lost in the Australian outback.Our Jenny “loosens her clothing” (well it’s hot in Oz) quite a lot…this film definitely DOES NOT feature any steam trains.You might think that there is a perfectly logical reason for all this wanton “nuddiness” …when you’re a teenage boy,you don’t need a reason.The BBC clearly needed no justification for showing this every Friday night on BBC 2.

8.The Anniversary

Official legend Bette Davis plays the eye-patch wearing,manipulative matriarch to three sons who come to her house for an annniversary party.One of the sons likes to wear women’s undies,another takes his missus to bed only to discover his mum’s glass eye waiting for them on the pillow.Our Bette is the ultimate bitch….she has to be seen to be believed.

9.The Incredible Melting Man

The title says it all,really.There’s this man……….and he melts.It’s excellent.

10.The Appointment

There are quite a few films with this title…the one I’m thinking of stars the late,great Edward Woodward.Unable to attend his doting daughter’s violin recital due to a business appointment,Ed experiences malevolent forces whilst driving to the meeting,brought into being by his psychic daughter.As you might expect,it ends badly.The boy Woodward never had much luck in films…


Kismet and Ketamine were indeed conjoined,but could not in any natural way be called “twins.”

In fact they had been born almost 5 years apart,but from an early age both had displayed certain…tendencies.

So disturbed was their father,the erstwhile Nemesis Misnomer,and their mother Godsmack Misnomer (of which nothing has been hitherto recorded) by their unnatural behaviour,that he had them sealed together at the hip.

All the better to keep an eye on them,he reasoned.

He had Kismet and Ketamine locked away in the Tall Tower at House Misnomer,and they were only allowed out under strict supervision.

From this day on,all weird shenanigans stopped,the sheep could sleep easily,and dogs and cats lived together in perfect harmony….and the Misnomers’ life went back to something approaching normal.

Then Marjorie was born…and Nemesis soon realised he needn’t have bothered.

None of this was of utmost importance to Martin Limp,even if he had been aware of the facts of the Misnomer family tree,strapped as he now was to the operating table in the cellar of House Misnomer.From his supine position he could see only the ceiling,and occasionally an evil face or three when the Misnomer girls swam into view.

Martin knew he was going to die.

If he was lucky,he thought,he’d stay dead…but he knew Marjorie was in possession of some unnatural gifts.

Just as he was making peace with his God,Marjorie Misnomer loomed to his left.The “twins” hovered to his right.

“Martin dear…what are we going to do with you?” cooed Marjorie.

He gulped.

Marjorie disappeared momentarily,then emerged once again into Martin’s personal Hell-space pushing a metal trolley.

On it,young Limp could just perceive out of the corner of his eye,were several….implements.

Marjorie looked down on Martin,her ebony black eyes impaling the rather pathetic,soon to be ex-art student.

She was holding a small spray bottle,the kind gardeners use to…well..spray things in gardens.Marjorie took to liberally spraying Martin with the liquid in the bottle,all over his face and body.

It smelled faintly of lavender…there seemd to be no adverse effects from it,as far as Martin could ascertain.

“Kismet likes.”

“Ketamine likes.”

Martin’s head swung around in the direction of the “twins”,who were getting very agitated and quite visibly drooling.

Oh dear….I don’t think they just want me to smell nice,thought Martin.

“Now now,girls,all good things to those who wait” cooed Marjorie,smiling.She turned to the table and picked up three runcible  spoons,handing two of them to Kismet and Ketamine.They grabbed them eagerly.

Marjorie pulled a small moleskin book out of her pocket,flipped a few pages and read from it-

“They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon”

She closed the book and returned it to her pocket.

Martin’s legs turned to jelly.

So did the rest of him,as Marjorie’s concoction of the digestive juices of various venomous spiders and snakes did it’s work and melted Martin’s flesh and bones into mush.

He started to scream as he liquefied.

“Well,Martin” said Marjorie,”we don’t have any quince but we do have quite a lot of lovely Limp.Off you go,girls…bon appetit!”

“Kismet likes.”

“Ketamine likes.”

What was left of Martin’s eyes registered their final,sanity-blasting image—the Misnomer girls,runcible spoons plunging into the remains of Martin’s inner portions and raising them to their mouths.

Sometime later that day,Martin Limp died.

Gesundheit the Marrow

Gesundheit the Marrow

The day after she had massacred (almost) her entire Family with a psychopathic onion soup,not to mention their party guests,Marjorie Misnomer was entertaining a visitor of her own in her attic room.She was sat cross-legged on the black velvet chaise longue with bone handrests…Gesundheit The Marrow was sitting next to her,telling their guest all about the previous day’s events.

“You should have seen ’em,old boy…12 heads dissolved into nothing…it even ate the skulls…” Here he broke off,glancing at Marjorie who looked suddenly downcast “…which was a shame really,you know how much Marjorie likes to add to her collection.It took both of us and the rhubarb to wrestle it back into it’s bucket.”

“Umm…er….y-yes.” stammered the guest,who’s name was Martin Limp.

Martin Limp was Marjorie’s friend…in the same sense that a fly is a spider’s “friend”.They had known each other for almost two months,which is in itself remarkable,given the nature of Marjorie’s “hobbies.” It is also remakable that he was still in possession of his vital organs,if not his complete sanity.Marjorie liked to play with Martin,just as a cat likes to play with a mouse before it eats it.He was dressed in his best yellow suit and puce bow-tie,because,even though he knew that Marjorie was madder than a teapot full of Thursdays,his mother always told him to dress smartly when visiting people.

He was currently sitting on The Seat Of Pain,which Marjorie kept for her “special” guests,and was,quite frankly,in a state of extreme terror,his bowels on the verge of jumping ship.He also had a very sore bottom.He looked furtively up from his cup of Hate Tea,searching for an exit,only to meet the eldritch eyes of Marjorie-deep as Hell,black as never.She shushed Gesundheit who was describing the fun he and Marjorie had had cleaning up and disposing of the bodies.The word “mop” had been mentioned more than once,and a plunger had been employed.

She kebabed Martin with her unwavering gaze.

“So Martin…”she asked happily,stroking Gesundheit’s green skin.He purred,knowing that the fun was about to start again.

Martin’s lower lip quivered. His bowels threw in the towel and relaxed noisily.

“…what shall we do today?”

She smiled that smile of hers and looked down at Gesundheit,who,it is said,was also smiling.


It was a sunny day in St.Mary’s-Of-The-Cream-Bun-Up-The-Jam as Sheila Lemony-Marchbanks,post-mistress,cake-maker and avid cross-stitcher heard a knock upon her frontally-positioned door.Looking up from the cake she was making,her thirteenth of the day,she made her way to the aforementioned port of egress and,upon opening it,was,as one would have every right to expect,rather surprised to discover the trembling Martin Limp holding a basket of various fruit and vegetables in front of him as if it might go off.

“Well if it isn’t young Master Limp,” she gushed “and what’s this you’ve brought me ?”

“It’s a g-g-gift….f-f-f-from the B-B-B-Big House…” he babbled,quivering and setting the apples and oranges and other produce jostling against each other.Luckily,Sheila,being a little hard of hearing ever since that accident with last year’s Christmas Radio Times,didn’t hear one of the apples whisper to a satsuma-

“Look fatty if you don’t move over I am so going to bloody own you-” only to get the rather terse reply…”oh yeah,come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough,you green bas-”

“The Family is giving one to all the houses in the v-v-village.” Martin continued,ignoring the light chuckle which seemed to emanate from somewhere in the bushy vicinity of Ms.Marchbanks’ privet hedge.”To celebrate the election of Nem-Nem-Nemesis Misnomer as MP for the village.” Martin almost choked the words out as he remembered Marjorie proudly showing him the remains of her father,all dissolved and headless and icky,which she had planted in the vegetable patch for the cabbages to nibble on.

Martin suspected that a by-election may soon be called.

“Oh that’s lovely” exclaimed Sheila,who was,by nature,a trusting sort,”come in,come in I’ll make you a lovely cup of tea and we can have a slice of carrot cake.”

She turned to re-enter her house,and Martin followed,holding his breath as he heard one of the carrots in the basket snap “Murderous old bat…that could be me old mum in that cake.” He pretended not to hear the rustle of leaves and the running of swift feet behind him.

“Be sure to close the door after you,Martin” Sheila called from the depths of her kitchen.”We don’t want just anybody walking in do we? You never know who’s about.”

Martin Limp…Limp by name,Limp by nature…had no need to close the front door,as he heard it softly close behind him,under what he knew in the pit of his stomach to be the dreadful impulse of the black-fingernailed hand of Marjorie Misnomer.

“This is going to rule.” said Gesundheit The Marrow.


“Look,” huffed Marjorie as she kissed a grape and stuffed it up Sheila Lemony-Marchbanks’ nose.The grape whistled a jaunty tune which may or may not have been “‘Bohemian Rhapsody.” “If you struggle you’ll just make it worse.”

Ms.Marchbanks,sadly,was in no position to offer an opinion as to the veracity of this statement,as she had a banana wedged in her mouth.It’s rear end was wiggling suggestively…slowly,almost imperceptibly,it was sliding in deeper.

The banana was making “mmm” noises.Marjorie made an “ooh” sound at this.She was enjoying herself,so was Gesundheit from his perch on top of the fridge.He was thumbing through Ms.Marchbanks’ weekly copy of  The People’s Friend…insofar as a large green vegetable can be said to “thumb.” She readied another grape,gently squeezing it in her black-lace gloved hand.The grape grinned at her…she grinned back then showed it to Martin,who had taken to gibbering in the corner of the kitchen,muttering to himself and rocking forthly and back.She tutted,and slipped the grape into place up Sheila’s left nostril.


He twitched in fear at the sound of his name,verbalised as it was through the Hell-touched vocal-cords of Marjorie Misnomer.

“Martin dear,do try to get the merest semblance of a grip and help the cucumbers out of the basket…I’ve got just the place for them.” she cackled,patting Ms.Marchbanks on the shoulder,who was rapidly losing consciousness,and indeed life,which was probably for the best,since Marjorie Misnomer’s madness knew no boundaries.

Martin Limp shambled to the basket,looking in with dread….there were things going on in there that had no place on God’s Earth.The rhubarb was looking very excited.He lifted out the cucumbers…they thanked him and slid towards the end of the table where the hapless Ms.Marchbanks sat chained to her chair,fruit & veg protruding from (almost) every orifice.

He’d had enough…he took advantage of Marjorie’s distracted attention and bolted for the door.Martin could see the front door literally a few feet away…he heard no voice of protest behind him…in the name of all that’s holy,he’d made it…he made to grab the knob…only to find it turning of its own accord.

The portal swung open….

….to reveal the most horrific sight of Martin’s soon-to-be-short life.

“Martin…I hope you’re not-” said one half of a set of badly-conjoined “twins.”

“-leaving us so soon.” said the other half.

And so it was that Martin Limp came face-to-faces with the only other other surviving members of Marjorie’s Family–her conjoined “twin” sisters,Kismet and Ketamine Misnomer.

And he knew that his nightmare was only just beginning….

Next part-We Are Family

The weird and unusual Marjorie

The weird and unusual Marjorie

There wouldn’t have been so many deaths if that Impossible Fish hadn’t appeared.

It was Marjorie who set the ball rolling…always Marjorie.

The Family had seen it coming for years…the strange way she buttered toast…and the unnatural things she could do with cheese.

Great Aunt Conclusion blamed it on the Cure album Marjorie had made her father,Nemesis Misnomer,buy her from that weird little record shop in an imaginary London side-street in the 19th century.

The garden party started innocently enough…Grandmamma did her baboon-juggling act whilst Matron handed out paranoia sandwiches.

Marjorie had been worrying the crops since early morning…none of the house staff would own up to leaving her room unlocked.

Several psychotic cucumbers had been sighted wandering the garden…one guest even spoke of a cauliflower with an inferiority complex.And it is probably best to gloss over the things that the rhubarb was seen doing.

Marjorie was known to have that effect on root vegetables.


It was Nemesis Misnomer who eventually found Marjorie,spread-eagled among the butternut squashes,talking to a lettuce.She was trying her very best to get the lettuce to open up about its mother…..the vegetable was having none of it.

“Been up to your old tricks again,eh Marjorie Misnomer ?” said her father,looming ominously over her as she tore a leaf off the lettuce and popped it in her mouth.A small squeak issued forth from it….though it was best not to think about that too closely.

“Yes Daddy.” replied Marjorie,munching happily.

“Marjorie..” Nemesis asked,exasperated “has it ever occurred to you that root vegetables are not actually in dire need of psychiatric counselling?”

“Oh but Daddy-” began Marjorie

“But me no buts,please Marjorie.There is to be no more veg-based head-shrinking until after the Garden Party is over.It’s scaring the guests…there are some things that rhubarb should never be forced to do.”

At this,Marjorie smiled mischieviously,but kept on munching.Her father caught his daughter’s smirk.

“I thought as much.There’ll be no more of that either.” said Nemesis sternly. “The things they were doing were just….wrong.Now,our guests want to see you,though God knows why,and Grandmamma will be starting the buffet soon.I trust you haven’t been in the kitchen this morning and messed with the heads of the nibbles?”

His troubled daughter stopped dismembering the lettuce and looked up at him.

“No Daddy…I’ve only been in the garden…the food in the kitchen should be emotionally balanced enough to serve to your guests…”

“Good.” With that he left his wayward offspring to her unmentionable activities.Marjorie threw the lettuce aside,which gave out a palpable sigh of relief.Sighing,she looked around for her next therapy victim,eventually settling on a terrified-looking runner bean.She set to work mentally torturing it.

“…although I’d probably give the onion soup a miss.” she said,smiling.


Things got increasingly esoteric just after midday,as Great Uncle Conjunction prepared to do his funny trick with the hosepipe.As he stood up to unbutton his waistcoat and unscrew the jar of vaseline,Marjorie’s dire warning about the onion soup bore impossible but lethal fruit.

Marjorie had not been entirely honest with her father about entering the kitchen.She hadn’t been in this morning,that much was true…but she had been in there most of the night.As it transpired,Marjorie had long ago learned how to pick the lock of the 2 foot thick solid oak door to her attic room,despite being sealed by one of her Grandmamma’s magical spells.

The object of her nocturnal jaunts had been the onions.

What she actually said to them is not known…nor would anybody want to know the exact details.Suffice it to say,as Marjorie Misnomer’s father,the former MP for St.Mary’s-Of-The-Cream-Bun-Up-The-Jam,Nemesis Misnomer,went to taste his onion soup,on which he had unwisely chosen to dine,he was rather alarmed to find the snack tasting him.

Unable to call for help as the soup ate his face,and dimly aware of a similar fate befalling the other guests,judging by the muffled screams,Nemesis looked wildly about for assistance.

His eyes found only Marjorie…his beautiful,loving,madder-than-a-cartload-of-arseholes daughter,sitting in the apple tree at the bottom of the garden,stroking a marrow and smiling.

The marrow,it was said,was also smiling….

Next part–Sheila Takes A Bow…