“I say Carruthers any good news on the home front if you get my drift?”

“Oh you mean Deirdre storming orf out of The Ritz just when I thought we were getting our matrimonial issues all patched up and tickety-boo. Well I’m not at all sure that it is ‘good’ news as you so succinctly put it, but yes there is rather a lot of news as it happens.”

“Tell me more – I’m all ears.”

“No you’re not in point of fact I’ve heard say your ears are uncommonly small; almost a deformity……whatever…….young Svetlana the maid asked me if she could have a short leave of absence so as to see her parents in Transylvania or some such God forsaken place we didn’t see fit to conquer and I thought it would be harsh not to accede to the girls request for she has tended to my every need since Deirdre became estranged.  Of course that meant….well at least I thought that meant…..I’d have to dine at the club in the evenings for I can’t cook for toffee.”

“Gosh….the very thought of a chap having to do that cooking thing fills me with horror – I’m certainly with you on that one.  Carry on.”

“You know I’m not sure how yet but Deirdre must have got wind of me leading a solitary life and quite out of the blue she called in a few nights ago. Could have knocked me down with a feather I was that surprised. Not only that she was dressed to the nines – even had a dress on revealing…what’s the word…..gone….no I had it on the tip of my tongue…no gone.”

“Cleavage is the word I think you’re looking for.”

“Yes that’s it ‘cleavage’ and I suspect no……God not again……you know the thing that girls wear underneath….that thing…..what on earth is it called?”

“Got me there Carruthers……I’ll ask our secretary Tiffany she’s bound to know that with her being a gal and all that…….…I say Tiffs what is that thing called you wear under your dress in order to keep your thingumjigs in place……..God now I’m doing it………forgot the very word……and no Tiffs don’t tell me to fuck orf asking such personal questions, Carruthers and I need to know otherwise our chat is dead in the water….…..oh, a ‘brassiere’ you say, cheers Tiffs. You heard that I presume?”

“Right, that’s what Deirdre didn’t have on underneath. She then breezed over to the drinks cabinet having announced she was going to give me a Slow Comfortable Screw. Having served it up she then announced that the drink was made to her own very special recipe. It wasn’t to my personal taste yet having a thirst one could photograph I knocked it straight back – bloody near blew the old noggin orf – and asked for seconds, all on an empty stomach mind. Deirdre couldn’t have been more obliging for she returned with another, this time albeit not strictly the correct vessel in terms of decorum, in my one pint pewter mug. It went down a treat. It was at this point she mentioned she had dropped Viagra in it.”

“Vi… mean……..Violet Agra? Can’t say I’ve heard of her… old flame of yours perhaps?”

“Buggered if I knew what she meant yet suddenly I came over all funny in my gentleman parts if you get my drift.”

“Not a clue old chum.”

“You know…the old ding-a-ling.”

“A bicycle bell? What’s that got to do with the price of eggs?”

“Do I have to spurt it out man… bleddy todger had gone as stiff as a constable’s truncheon and twice the frigging density. Big as a bleddy truncheon to boot – never seen the like of it before. Obviously I asked Deirdre to phone the emergency services on my behalf as I felt sure I had contracted something terminal.”

“Would have done the same myself. A wise move on your part.”

“Well I’ll tell you what, Deirdre refused point blank to make the call. She said that a few nocturnal activities would remedy the situation and with that whipped her dress orf revealing that she wore nothing…..I mean absolutely nothing underneath save for her stocking things. Obviously I told her straight orf the bat that she’d likely catch her death of cold but she was having none of it. Indeed I’ve never seen the gal so forthright for she grabbed my hand and dragged me – I was by then more than a little unsteady on my feet what with the booze by this point – to the bedroom. That last thing I remember is her plonking me down on the four-poster, tearing my clothes orf and binding my feet and ankles to the posts. After that I don’t recall a bleddy thing!”

“Crumbs how awful of Deirdre imprisoning you thus – in your own home as well. Disgusting behaviour I say.”

“Oh my friend it gets even more confusing for in the morning once she had released me from my shackles and made my breakfast she said, ‘Well then Carruthurs, Svetlana isn’t the only one who can produce an heir, and mine will be the only legitimate one.”

“What you mean the hair of yours Svetlana so treasures is not a genuine one plucked from your bonce?”

“That seems to be what she implied. Yet why all this fuss over my hair? Christ if my hair was that popular I’ll readily cut a few locks orf and hand them out in the street in the manner of a gypsy hawking heather.”

“If ever there was a day when a chap needed a skin full today is that day. Right Carruthers you are coming orf to the club with me and after all the trauma you’ve suffered recently take it as read that the drinks are on me.”

“Cheers old chap – a wizard idea.”    

If the heir/hair bit confused a tad try the previous episode;




    1. Deirdre has been regretting marrying Carruthers over a number of posts recently yet when she found out the maid Svetlana is likely pregnant by him well she wasn’t taking that lying down – so to speak. I’ve dug a hole for myself of course for lord knows where the next episode will go! Thanks for hanging in there reading.

  1. “No you’re not in point of fact I’ve heard say your ears are uncommonly small”

    Even between the two there’s nothing but noise. One of the funniest Carruthers episodes thus far, and that’s saying something!

    1. I enjoyed writing this one more than usual – getting over the ‘sex’ hurdle and deliberately avoiding making it pornographic was a challenge. Innocence is the key to Carruthers and chum – well that and him being a complete fuckwit.

  2. I believe Carruthers is making all these stories up… and it makes a pretty good cover-up for a mole in the Foreign Office.
    He is not fooling me a bit Mike.

    1. Interesting concept I hadn’t thought of – a lot of the early skits were ‘spy’ orientated, perhaps I’ll have to revisit them once his marital exploits are resolved!

  3. another jolly good chapter in the blissfully ignorant life of Carruthers – the line that gave me the biggest guffaw was “…or some such God forsaken place we didn’t see fit to conquer…”

  4. Obviously I asked Deirdre to phone the emergency services on my behalf as I felt sure I had contracted something terminal.

    Obviously, this occurred before the age of television. Now the commercials tell you to wait four hours.

    1. Commercials for Violet Agra! God man that would never be allowed in the UK (true by the way). However the knowledge you have imparted will likely serve me well in my dotage Sir.

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