“Good morrow Tool’s me old chum. Got round as soon as I could mate – understand from Cezanne your outside pipes are giving you a bit of jip. Not to worry I’ll have it all sorted for you before the bars of Montmartre are in full swing. We couldn’t have you missing out on a morning snifter could we Tools?”

“I appreciate that Jonny. Can I offer you a beverage before you set to it?”

“You know me Tool’s – I never, ever get lashed up whilst plumbing. You go ahead though – are you still on the shorts? Sorry mate that sounded a bit near the mark what with you being vertically challenged thus. No offence.”

“None taken Jonny. Do you know what I think I will treat myself to this little concoction I dreamed up the other evening. I call it ‘Tremblement de Terre’ a potent little mix of half absinthe and half cognac. Poured over ice it is sublime. Best hair of the dog yet – helps me drown me sorrows what with half of bloody Paris taking the piss out of my shortcomings on the perpendicular front.”

“There are some bastards out there Tools – they all deserve a good slap in my book. Anyway, and excuse me for being a bit forward here but that painting of yours what you have on the easel is a tad on the raunchy side. Talk about post-impressionism all you like but that’s just two birds about to get right at it if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes Jonny they’re a couple of girls from the Moulin Rouge I got to know. They agreed to sit for me.”

“They did what – looks like they did a bit more than sit you dirty old voyeur you.”

“I’ve painted a number of similar Sapphic liaisons – they’re all the rage on the Leftbank these days.”

“Cor wish I could paint. I think I’d specialize in naked tarts probably going at it hammer and tongs – more arty don’t you think.”

“Can’t say I agree Jonny. Less is more and all that.”

“Oh well each to his own. Now this outside pipe of yours. I’m going to need an FIP and a strap on for this job. I think I’ve got a couple in the van so I’ll just pop out a grab them.”

“Hold up there Jonny the girls from the pic are having a kip upstairs as we speak. They’re bound to have an assortment of strap-ons. I’ll go and ask shall I?”

“No Tools mate not that sort of strap-on – I mean the part to affix the pipework to the wall. Although I must admit I’d jump at the opportunity to pop up and ask them myself…nod, nod….wink, wink….”  

“What’s an FIP Jonny?”

“Oh that’s what’s called a female iron pipe.”

“If that’s a metaphor for what I think it is they’ve probably got those upstairs as well.”

“Nice one Tools but I’m guessing you’re pulling my plonker. Anyway, off to the van we’ll have this all tickety boo in just a minute.”

“You’re a living legend Jonny. Thanks mate.”

For more tales of Jonny Catapault see:  




  1. Wonderful, Mike! Particularly enjoyed the bit about Sapphic liaisons being all the rage on the Left Bank!

    1. I bet you did – although only on another quick trip we are back across to France later this week. By boat this time as the weather seems set fair. I’ll raise a glass to you whilst there.

      1. Always pleasant to be there for the fall as well – not necessarily a nice thing to be pleased about but comeuppance and karma have their place and it would be rude not to appreciate their work.

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