Twice in a night

[apolla]

So, being in a work environment has landed me with a vast array of amusing forwards from bored people. Some were amusing, some were funny, but this made me laugh out loud because I can see it in my head perfectly:

A very confident James Bond walks into a bar and takes a seat next to a very attractive woman. He gives her a quick glance, then casually looks at his watch for a moment. The woman notices this and asks “Is your date running late?”

He replies “Q has just given me this state-of-the-art watch. I was just testing it.”

Intrigued, the woman says, "State-of-the-art watch?What's so special about it?”

Bond explains “It uses alpha waves to talk to me telepathically.”

The lady says “What's it telling you now?”

“Well, it says you're not wearing any panties”

The woman giggles and replies “Well it must be broken because I am wearing panties.”

Bond smirks, taps his watch and says “Bloody thing's an hour fast.”

And I've also been working on a new original story, which leapt into my head almost fully formed. Unfortunately it's a bit on the cliche side at the moment because of that, but I thought I'd post the first part here and see what you think. More will be posted at Flynnanigans soon, I'm sure.

There is a something a little wild in all men, but some men are wilder than others. This was especially true of a young man in a little village in Ireland many years ago.

Kilshain, Co Galway, Ireland. June 2000.

Playtime at the primary school in the little town was much the same as it had been thirty years ago. Children will always be children, and children will always love to play with the bare essentials of a playground and their imaginations.

For several children however, the small tarmac area wasn’t enough for their outsized imaginations, and the view of the town beyond the stone wall was too alluring for words. Secure in the knowledge that Mrs Kelly was looking in the opposite direction, three ten year olds sneaked around the wall and ran towards the high street.

They were so close! Just a few more metres-

“Now, where are you three miscreants after going?”

The three froze and turned around. The old man who ran the garage was stood there, wiping his oily hands on a cloth.

“Nowhere,” said the smaller of the three defiantly. The mechanic smiled knowingly.

“Is that so? Well, unless ‘nowhere’ means back to school, I’ll have to take you back there meself.”

The three of them nodded and scurried back to school, knowing he was watching them all the way back.

*

Year Six, Mrs Kelly thought, were the noisiest class of all. Worse than the four-year-olds in Mrs Shanahan’s class, and even worse than the notorious nine-year-olds in Mr Boyle’s class.

“Playtime is over! Sit down and be quiet now,” she called out. Unlike the other teachers, she spoke with something of an English accent.

The three adventuring children had not heard her, being much too involved in a conversation regarding a long-ruined old house in the woods above the town. As silence fell amongst everyone else, the conversation became audible to all.

“My brother says it’s haunted,” whispered one.

“Nonsense,” said the littlest one authoritatively. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“You’re just scared!”

“Am not! I think we should go there today!”

“Is this a conversation we should all be involved in?” asked Mrs Kelly. They sat rigid-backed and innocent-faced and looked up at her as if butter wouldn’t melt.

“Well?”

“What, Mrs Kelly?”

“You were clearly engrossed in whatever it you were talking about. I think it’s only fair you share with the rest of us.”

“It’s nothing,” said the little one quickly, but the tallest of the three caved under Mrs Kelly’s stern blue eyes.

“We were talking about the house in the woods. The one nobody lives in anymore.”

“Ah,” said Mrs Kelly, understanding quite perfectly. “Just talking about architecture, were you?”

The three squirmed, knowing perfectly well that grown-ups would not look favourably on their going to the ruined old house. Mrs Kelly nodded.

“Well, all I’ll say is that you should be careful. You never know when it might fall down just a little bit more, and I’d hate for any of you to be in it at the time.”

She spoke in a light sort of way, but all of the class shuddered at her implication.

“How do you know about the house, Mrs Kelly?” asked the littlest of the three. Mrs Kelly paused in writing the afternoon’s spellings on the board and turned back around.

“I was there when it got to being in that state.”

The entire class muttered appreciatively.

“You were?” asked Marie Walsh, a pretty blonde girl at the front of the class.

“Yes I was. It was my first year teaching here, a very long time ago. Your mother was in my class then.”

“Why were you there?” asked a boy at the back of the class.

“Because it was my home.”

Mrs Kelly sat down on the edge of her desk. Somehow, every class she taught ended up asking about the ruined old house in the woods.

***

Yes, it's quite obvious and cliche at the moment, so I'd appreciate any comments and thoughts you might have to make it less obvious and less cliche. Preeeety please?