The Ongoing Saga of Gladys and Plod, part 4

return the Bronx statute of the 16th century to its rightful place viz the Lord Chancellor's very deep and very moist depository. Meanwhile, Gladys has demonstrated her new Bavarian technique to the ho, who thought it a marvelous idea.

They called Plod and asked him to pick up Bernadette Bernadotte of Bern on the way, and come over to the stage to demonstrate his own version of the ho followed by Bernadette Bernadotte of Bern performing a duo pole dance with the ho, while Gladys and Plod were apprehended by the bouncer for the small sachet found in the lining of Gladys' padded bra which she'd placed there the night before during a clandestine meeting with the geezer with the Ford Capri. However, Plod protested innocence despite traces on his waistcoat, indicative of having had contact with Glady's generous cleavage and extracting the car keys which she habitually stored there.

Picking up the ho, they hoofed it to the car park just in time to be intercepted by their favourite dwarf who asked to be thrown a coming out party for his debutant twin sisters, but for Plod the game was on, he needed a swift getaway in order to catch the ho before it started to rain. After a few circuits around the town square he caught her, and together they walked to what later, in court, became known as a public poll investigating public opinion on the use of mustard as a substitute for Vick's vaporub for the treatment of the underlying cause of Plod's irritable itch on his nose and his reading of surreal poetry by the light of the silvery moon that shone brightly on Plod's Austin Allegro, parked in a disabled bay in readiness to deliver the box of Cadbury's Milk Tray that had by now become a gooey mess that the dwarf and the ho were merrily smearing on each other, in preparation for their participation in the "Bake Off" tv programme.

Plod has not been seen on screen since the incident with the Welsh rabbit that Glady's was about to do a Ronnie Pickering on, but instead she decided to wait for Plod to return from his covert liaison with her at no 29. Instead, however, she put on her comfy bunny slippers, opened a family packet of Haribos and signed on to her Tinder account; she thought wistfully, Plod can go and while he's gone maybe she can persuade the dwarf and the ho to help her to re-enact the last episode, this time without the police intervention and subsequent high speed car chase scenes.

She knew the ho was an excellent driver, but it was somewhat unnerving going at 120 km/h in that dinky little mini coupe through all those tunnels trying to simultaneously stop the dwarf from mooning at the nuns and navigating the way through the approaching Magic Roundabout at Swindon which was curiously surrounded by police cars manned by Plod look-a-likes. Meanwhile the dwarf was in the back of the car doing a fairly good tango with Bernadette Bernadotte of Bern.

The ho turned to Plod and said: "I think I've told you before, I really have a doctorate in the quantum properties of rare earth elements at micro-Kelvin temperatures. I'm ho-ing in my spare time to finance the research, you have no idea how niggardly they are with funding."

"Do you think I really enjoy the pole dancing? Of course I do, it's a great way to keep fit and be paid for it. And I get away from that stuffy lab and meet some interesting people, have a bit of fun and make some money. What's not to like about it?"

Then she became busy with some tricky driving in the round-about and Plod...

(to be continued...)
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The Ongoing Saga of Gladys and Plod, part 3.

untipped woodbine at sixpence for twenty, however, suddenly the postman appeared, bringing an enormous package addressed to Plod. Upon opening he blushed deeply and tried to prevent Gladys from seeing the extruded polyethylene.

"Is that a new truncheon, or are you just pleased to see me?" said Gladys, slipping her burka off and peeling open a grape. Plod hesitated, he had heard that tone from Gladys before and he knew that it meant one thing, she'd soon go into a housecleaning frenzy, turning everything upside down and leaving him without his adult magazines or, God forbid, his favourite jar of peanut butter. Why had he not listened to his old Latin teacher who had told him that in situations like this it was always best to do as Caesar did, id est adsum iam forte washed down with a large mug of tea, presumably.

However, thinking like lightning and desperate to avoid housework, he announced to Gladys he was going to treat her to a slap up meal at Leicester Forest East services but Gladys took her battered copy of Tatler Restaurant Guide 2015 from her handbag and said "to hell with that, I fancy some experimental cuisine, you can take me to Fera in Mayfair, Tatler says they do a houching Cornish lobster with dittander and for afters I'd like a jolly good stiff chota peg and a couple of hours with those two volumes of Proust and a plate of madeleines in the twilight of the car park. However,  Plod had other ideas, throwing open his portmanteau he revealed his secret weapon, a 14 inch piece of twine, to be used when the bloody car wouldn't start and he'd lost the address of the Baroness who had invited him up for a "cocktail".

"I'll bring the tail", she winked, it was something in her eye, damn those 50p contact lenses, packet of 10 with every 20 litres of super go faster unleaded, she should have gone for the Thermos flask and USB hairbrush ice-scraper; anyway it was getting late and she couldn't shake the words of the 3 amigos: "whatever happens". Not so fast said Plod, tossing his package on the bonnet of the Quattro, I wondered why this rucksack was curiously heavy, that cloven footed creature has taken residence in it, complete with kitchen, satellite dish and 58 inch telly. Turning it upside down, out dropped the missing velvet pouch containing the pair of Night vision goggles that Plod had mislaid in the bushes whilst looking for his night vision goggles and yet he hesitated, unable to fulfil his promise to demonstrate his oscillating vacillations, would he, could he; if only he hadn't bought that crocodile; he resolved to ask Gladys that very night if she would return from Basingstoke where she had been exercising her willpower to convince the ho that they really needed to visit Bernadette Bernadotte of Bern instead of the regular annual allotment holders bus trip around the turnpike, where there were a lot of lunatics, crazy lunatics who didn't like the shape of things to come.

"Now look here", the ho glowered at Gladys and Plod, "this thing keeps falling off the edge, could I please ask you to pay more attention"? Plod, red in face, looked at the moon and howled. It was a howl that Gladys had heard before, at the dwarf tossing contest.

It had been raining that night just as they got to Soho, looking for the place called the height of depravity by the vicar of Wolverhampton in his annual sermon on the night of Halloween calling all to repent and to...

(to be continued)
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