That's as puzzled a phiz as ever a phiz I've seen - Gus is absolutely gobsmacked - but is that love, terror, or an intoxicating cocktail of both? Shall he marry again and lay down his revenger's tale for a more conventionally scripted happily ever after? Can he cope with the stress of a mixed marriage, especially as a Gentile in the land of the Conchubim (alternatively, as a stranger in a very strange land indeed)? Or will he find it convenient to move on, encouraged by the raving mob of royal celebrity-bedazzled islanders, who'd like nothing more than to Conch him in the head?
Meanwhile, there will probably be some scores to settle once Nelson regains what passes for consciousness on that sweet but not too bright phiz of his own. However, I am happy to report that at least Bob is reaping the benefits of a decent socialized medicine system:
He now has a pillow, and that is real cheese affixed to the bedclothes so that a wee nibble is never far away. Apparently Their Majesties' Royal Conchan Postal Service were overwhelmed with gifts sent from far and away for Gus, along with an autographed cricket bat for Nelson signed "Dude, this one's for you - Shaun."
There is some speculation that Martha Stewart may be coming out with little rat/cheese duvets, but not before she comes up with some attractive striped Bunkroll in a Bag sets in jailhouse orange.
3 comments:
Mrs. B.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahah.
You are the bomb, B.
Edna
PS: Hope Johnny Depp's welcome here at the ole blogge shoppe.
*beams* well, even if this rather a confuzzlement for gus, at least our lil bob is bein' well taken care of. i noticed some nibbles out of the cheese so i'm assuming he's no longer in shock and swiftly regaining his appetite. this makes me so happy. :-)
i rather have to agree with trish; i think miz sibyl is goin' to have her hands full as she takes up the reigns of monarchy. and really, sibyl seems too pragmatic a woman to attempt to hold on to a man when it's clear his mind and a large chunk of his heart are elsewhere. i've heard of friends with benefits; maybe sibyl will be able to see her way to being a ruler with advantages where gus is concerned. as for gus, i think the best way to describe that pained visage captured on the scrimshaw as as the *oh sh!t* look.
i'd best get back down to the bar....as late as it is, there are still patrons arguing one view point or another, and a few broken-hearted souls who seem to think this is the end of gus and blogging as we know it. either or, it's thirsty work, and *someone's* got to pour the tequila. poor chad, he's done nothing but pop corn in the scullery since happy hour. every good show requires popcorn, and this one is no exception.
*straightens back, massages carpal shot wrists and toddles back down to the fray.*
snuggs
I'm most gratified, Trish and Edna. Thank you so much for your custom. I try to do my bit, but really it's just summarizing with a bit of fun thrown in for good measure.
Now, my good and hard-working snuggs. There's a run on the bar AND the kitchen, and no mistake. I've been pulling hefeweissens and mixing up Harvey Wallbangers all morning, but I'm starting to run low on lemons and Galliano. Fortunately, the Fuller's people delivered some seasonal bottled ales that might do in a pinch. And there's some rather odd imports that came in on a demo pallet that seem to be brewed with some American vegetable or other; "pumpkin" or suchlike. Rather tasty and definitely smacks of fall and the annual parish Harvest Festival, so I'm putting those on special.
Ever so many people have turned up morose and jittery at the thought that Gus might be tempted to abandon shipmates and take a cushy berth ashore.
Dear me! "Bertha Shore" would be a n'excellent nom d'amour for a dockside doxy, wouldn't it? But as so often happens, I digress.
Now where was I? Ah, yes -- supplying the madding crowds of whale-killing journal readers with comestibles and potables while we await Gus' answer to Sybil's proposal of matrimony. They seem concerned at the thought that their source of cracking humour (or humourous crack, more like) is about to get re-tooled into an online situational comedy called "Everybody Loves Gus."
I have faith that Gus will do the right thing, and that it will be something completely unexpected. But still, there it is: it's brought them out of the woodwork wondering, worrying, and powerfully hungry and thirsty and in need of sustenance.
I've brought out the big 'lectric tea urn, there's several pots of a rather decent Guavan Blue Mountain brewing, and the sweetest young Japanese grill chef just turned up looking for work. His name is Hiro, and he's rather a dab hand at making up vast batches of scrambled eggs on a large portable grilltop he had with him, so I've put him to work doing breakfast. I did have to teach him how to put together a proper fry-up and he was rather horrified at the thought of grilling tomatoes before the sun was over the yardarm, but his grilled mushrooms are delish. However, he insists on seasoning the eggs with soya sauce and serving with rice, so it's still a rather exotic brekkers with nary a smoked kipper in sight. Quite tasty, once you get used to the idea.
He's rather sensitive about the circs of his recent unemployment, but fortunately we're very fire-safety conscious of late and the ventilation hood in the kitchen is top-notch. If he works out I may install a permanent grill in the dining room to go with the sushi bar. I realize that I'm terribly behind-hand with trends; I understand that the sushi craze started at least a decade or so back on the western coast of the Colonies but we have finally reached sushi parity even here in the West Country.
Anyway, as the devil said to the denizens of Hell up to their knees in muck drinking tea, "Break's over, back to standing on your heads!"
Post a Comment