THE CHANCE MEETING OF AGNES & MAXWELL – A Love Story (well sort of)

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In normal circumstances and whilst walking the streets of London one would have made mental note of the fact that the world’s fattest man was zooming along the pavements on remote controlled heavy duty castors.   Albeit a sight to behold attracting the attention of many a passer-by young Agnes, a level headed girl lost in thought as she was, missed him entirely.

On this particular bright spring morning, heading in the direction of her taxidermist place of work our pretty little will-o-the wisp was contemplating as to exactly why people would set traps in the forest in which to capture furry mammals to scoff when there was so much road kill about – road kill galore in point of fact, enough to feed an army.

On autopilot and completely engrossed in her deliberations she paid little heed to the fact that as she was about to cross the street an 18-wheeler was heading toward her at a terrific rate of knots.  However, rather than she herself becoming road kill her guardian angel was at hand in the form of said world’s fattest man. Upon spotting a potential tragedy unfold before his very eyes he grabbed her by the collar back to the relative safety of the pavement as the lorry thundered by.

“That was a close shave luv…what were you thinking about stepping out like that?” 

“Road kill as it happens…and by the way thank you, you just saved my life and if the truth be told being squished under a truck has scant appeal.” 

“Road kill you say?” 

“Yes, don’t know why…the thought just grabbed hold of me for some obscure reason. Do you eat road kill? Only I’m not being rude but you look like someone who does devour more than nibble – hope you don’t mind me saying so?” 

“Well rest assured I have never in all my born days dined out on road kill. There that’s sorted…Maxwell Fromage at your service and I am the world’s fattest man I’ll have you know. At my last weigh-in I registered 108 stone exactly, or in pounds 1512 or in metric 685.831663 kilograms. Impressive don’t you think?” 

“I’m not sure impressive is the right word but I do get your drift. Is the reason you travel about on castors because you are so very, how shall I put it…corpulent?” 

“Sadly that is the case although it is small price to pay for being a world champion. You see all my life I wanted to be top of the pile at something but not being clever or athletic I had no option but to eat my way to the top. I’ve made a fortune out of all the photo-shoots and gobbling contests.” 

“Interesting, and a tiny bit odd but each to their own. My name’s Agnes by the way.” 

 “I must say Agnes the effort of saving your bacon has rather taken the puff out of me. I think I need a bit of a sit down. The café I use is only just up the road and they keep an oil drum for me to sit on there so do you fancy a coffee and a snack?” 

“Don’t mind if I do Maxwell what with the shock of nearly becoming flattened.”

And so it was Agnes and Maxwell found themselves in Bulky Bertie’s Café for the Terminally Rotund. Agnes had never been there before and despite walking this route every weekday for the past five years had never even noticed it. She spotted many porky chaps about the place but none as gargantuan as Max. She was quite shocked to see one man ordering a plastic washing-up bowl of latte to accompany several tiers of what looked like iced wedding cake no less!  Maxwell advised Agnes that Bulky Bertie had spontaneously combusted only a couple of months previous and added that it would be for the best if he did not impart the full gruesome details of the former proprietor’s sad demise. Besides he didn’t want Bertie’s missus Paunchy Pat overhearing the tale and getting all upset.

While Maxwell filled his face on several buckets of cornflakes with chopped banana and clotted cream added, a quizzical Agnes sipped her Expresso and watched her saviour nosh away.

“Have you a girlfriend? Have you ever had a girlfriend…I mean ever?” 

“What do you think?” 

“Would you like a girlfriend?” 

“I refer to my previous answer.” 

“I wish I had a world record like you have Maxwell.” 

“Well that could be arranged…what say you have sex with the world’s fattest man. I can tell you for certain that you would be the first in that regard.” 

“Um, I don’t mean to appear rude or ungrateful and sweet man that you are but that was not the sort of world record I was thinking of…bit squalid if you like.” 

“I was only joking luv, don’t take offence.” 

“I know you were joshing Maxwell and furthermore I haven’t been offended at all…I do rather like you and maybe if you shed about 96 stone I might think about it…there’s me with a bit of funny banter now!  But seriously wouldn’t you prefer a girlfriend to the world record you hold?” 

“Well I suppose I would really. It certainly does get a bit lonely in the disused gasometer I call home. The thing is the quack tells me I’ll need to exercise to lose weight but I can’t get around without my castors.” 

With that Agnes had a brainwave!

“Look Maxwell I’m no fitness trainer but I reckon you could get fit and reduce your vast bulk by rolling down a mountain side…I’m thinking here Mont Blanc in The Alps. The Chamonix Valley area has tremendously long slopes and being covered by a thick layer of snow you shouldn’t hurt yourself or anything like that.  A couple of weeks’ vacation having a jolly good roll down and you’d be as fit as a butcher’s dog I think. And better still I don’t believe anyone in the world has ever rolled such a long distance under their own steam. You could dispense with your current record and hold a new one as well as losing the 96 stone I estimate you need to shed before I’d give you houseroom.” 

“Yeah I’m up for that.” 

It is often said that a rolling stone gathers no moss. However, when Maxwell did his now famous roll (it went viral on YouTube) he gathered snow about his person – indeed became the biggest human snowball known to mankind. Picking up great speed upon his descent he broke the sound barrier the net effect of which was that the trademark ‘boom’ caused an avalanche of such magnitude that it engulfed the entire Chamonix Valley thus destroying the tourist industry there for the season.

As for Maxwell when they eventually dug him out he was in a coma and hospitalized for over a year. Whilst in that coma the weight positively fell off him. It was thus the case that by the following spring when he regained consciousness he had indeed lost 96 stone and discovered he had held several world records – biggest ever human snowball; longest roll down a mountain; the only gravity aided breaking of the sound barrier ever achieved by an adult male; the most weight ever lost (by some distance) and the only single handed destruction of a tourist resort known to mankind.  He was, in short, overjoyed yet his best prize was not one in respect of his multiplicity of records, no, his best prize was Agnes’ hand in marriage.

The pair now share his disused gasometer that has been tarted up rather nicely in Art Deco style.  Rumours abound that Agnes still seeks a world record of her own and intends to try to beat the greatest officially recorded number of babies born to one mother, that being 69, to Mrs Vassilyev a peasant from Shuya, Russia in the 1800’s. Aside from Agnes’ world record attempt putting a spring in his step and a smile upon his face Maxwell has also promised not to eat any of his offspring!

As for Agnes, well she has not given road kill a second thought!

 

 

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45 thoughts on “THE CHANCE MEETING OF AGNES & MAXWELL – A Love Story (well sort of)

    • Thank you Sue – I survived yet not unscathed. Battered and bruised more like. How tedious is the world when ones life is in cardboard boxes. Shirley couldn’t find her knickers for 48 hours (true) and as yet I cannot find myself…may have to become a Buddhist!

    • What a splendid greeting – thank you. Took an age to get the internet back running then I lost WordPress all day yesterday because of something I did with a Smartphone they got me – I was quite happy with the 14 years house-brick version. I hate moving you know…boxes, boxes, boxes everywhere. I just mentioned to Sue that Shirley couldn’t find the box her knickers were in for the first two days…my how I laughed, that is until I discovered my shoes were on the missing list. Of the two though I think lost shoes holds sway over any alternative save perhaps my ‘mind’!

  1. Welcome back Mike! I see the move inspired you to write a love story worthy of bringing tears to my eyes (use nose blow here). Hey Mike, I dare say some of your chaps have been sullying your image in the interim unless you truly are a dangerous soul looking to murder me.

    • Cheers. We’re suffering here…can’t find a bloody thing. At least the last vestiges of my wine collection didn’t go missing and oddly in one box there was a little book of the New Testament I was given years ago back in school. Do you think someone is trying to tell me something!

    • Cheers Paul. Trust all is well. Now we have this fibre optic broadband thing I hope to be positively whizzing through the poems I’ve missed. If I can remain awake this evening I good read is on…the thing is you still has me humping boxes all over the place! I’m getting too old for such bloody hard work and offered to get someone in to do it for us yet she refuses to part with the money such is the tight streak of the Celts.

      • by sheer coincidence, my wife just signed us up for transfer over to fiber optic – in order to save money – installation due at month’s end – meantime, I’m crossing my fingers

      • Tell you what it is incredibly fast…wish it was saving me money though. Over here they up the charge for fibre optic sadly. Still for once I can see I’m getting value for money!

    • Cheers – a few years back the wife’s brother got banned from an ‘eat all you want’ restaurant for doing just that. Where is the fairness in that I ask myself!

  2. Happy to see you back, in one piece, even if you can’t find everything yet. Just start replacing things and the old ones will all turn up. Love the story, and the happy ending, but not sure I would go to those extremes to lose weight. Maybe. I’ll be moving in what looks more like a year now. Building is being renovated and everyone will be moved to renovated apartments as they become available. Goody, goody, whoopie, and all that.

    • The moving bit is hard…well I think it is! The renovation sounds good though. For our part this is an old Victorian place that needs to be redecorated throughout and some more. We are looking for a chap or gal who can do these things as I am so very, very useless on the practical front! Best of luck, must go for ‘she who must be obeyed’ has just summoned me!

      • Mike, face it, you’re a pushover for her. My house on the farm was pre-Civil War, with no insulation and very little heat, but I loved it until the night the ceiling fell on my head. It lost most of its appeal when it gave me a concussion. That was the night I became “she who roars like a lioness” and soon I had new ceilings, my kitchen was made over, and we had a new furnace that heated the entire house—all 8 rooms of it.

      • You have me worried now as the main bedroom ceiling sags a little I note! Another job to go on my list – never ending. And now my wife wants a new greenhouse as she says the one we have here is old with regular glass that is dangerous when the grandkids turn up. Spend, spend, spend!

    • That’s what happens with the old houses. You pay for the charm and history you will live in, but the reward is that you are in a place that has withstood the test of time, and has been filled with love for generations. So fix it up and you will be rewarded 10 x 10.

      • I agree wholeheartedly – as I said to my wife re the greenhouse that any number of kids would have been brought up here and I’ll lay odds no one got got! Interestingly we found at the back of a cupboard the Last Will and Testament of the original landowner from 1856 plus the first set of deeds for our plot from 1898. I shall scan it all as it is falling apart.

      • You’ve already found a bit of history. What luck! If the first owner was famous you could auction the papers and use the money to pay for some or the upkeep on the house and greenhouse. After scanning it all, of course.

  3. YAY! You’re back! I’ve missed you. How was the move? You got the internet sooner than you planned, no? Did they trash the house before you got there?

    Maxwell Cheese and Agnes are a hoot! I’m glad your creativity didn’t suffer under the stress of the move! 😀

    • We’ve missed you as well young Rachel. As ever the move was horrible…your whole life in endless boxes that end up in the wrong rooms (Shirley couldn’t find the one with her knickers in for two days so she had to buy some more!). The house wasn’t trashed but needs more doing to it than we thought – basically the whole place needs tarting up and redecorating but we can take our time over that as it is livable. George has nobbled the attic and a room for his studio plus a bedroom with the best en suite! The carpets are horrible and will be the first to go – even before we decorate as I can’t stand them. Overall it has the feel of a proper house and the neighbours seem nice people. We have a really useful handyman who works for peanuts and can do most things. I was calling out a locksmith to change the locks when our handyman said, ‘I can do that’ so instead of it costing me £400-£500 it only cost £75 – result! Also the old place had fitted wardrobes everywhere but being Victorian this one doesn’t so it’s off to buy wardrobes this weekend as most of our clothes are still in those awful boxes! It’s rather nice being on the edge of town and seeing countryside from the windows. It’s an almost rough old town that Hitler tried to bomb flat in the war yet seems to have missed a lot of old, magnificent buildings thankfully. In short we like it!
      We got the fibre optic broadband now it cost a little bit more but is so quick. When G is downloading stuff nothing slows down anymore. I have got myself a smartphone but can’t turn it on!
      More to the point how are things with you?

      • Aww, well, I’m glad you’re at least through with the worst of the ordeal. Of course, replacing carpets is never fun, and usually takes a full 2 weeks for the formaldehyde smell to go away, but they’ll look so nice afterward. Are you having to repaint, too? George’s rooms sound awesome! I want to see photos after he soundproofs the studio. 🙂 Your handyman sounds wonderful, too! And he sounds honest, which is the most important thing…. He’s not out to bilk you for more money. As soon as Shirley finds her knickers, I want to see pictures! Okay, wait, that didn’t sound right! NOT of her knickers, but of the house and the yard and the view. LOL! Sounds like you got a phone that’s smarter than you! I’m kidding, of course. You can figure it out. If not, a hammer works great. 😉
        As for me, I’m working close to 14 hours a day for an attorney now, and while the pay is great, I’m so tired! I miss blogging and writing daily, and my house is a mess which I hate! But I’m looking at the bigger picture which is I’m working on saving up a ton of traveling money. 😀
        So are you back to being able to blog daily again, or you’re still busy unpacking, et al?

      • Repaint, redecorate, new carpets, bedroom some bedroom furniture (Shirley just bought a rather sexy regency bed!), sort out the garden, get rid of one maybe two old sheds…the list is endless but she love’s these projects and is so happy here. I will get some photo’s…couldn’t do much when moving in because it really was so hectic and besides my camera bag was in a box and lost like her knickers were! I reckon I should be able to blog 4/5 times a week though. 14 hours a day is a lot yet sometimes in life one has to do the very thing that irks to move forward with a project or a plan. It sounds like you’re doing it right to me. I’m guessing that like me you’re a bit OCD for I too can hardly cope with all the untidiness about me the move has cause – the bloody wardrobes don’t arrive until 30th March so all my gear has to be plucked from a box/boxes! Anyway a glass of evening wine now beckons so I better turn off the laptop as I don’t like to ‘comment’ on blogs or Facebook after even a single drink! Best of luck to you and yours.

    • Yeah, I think those do sound like fun projects, though a bit overwhelming all at once. I just tried a new rose moscato last week that was so good! In fact, a bit of that would be good right about now, too! Yeah, it’s a scientific fact that clutter causes stress, so I definitely feel your pain in the OCD department, too. And that’s yet another reason I hate moving. 🙂 I’m glad you’re back! Kiss Shirley for me. ❤

      • Can’t kiss her! The stress I think of moving has given her cold sores! Funny really as clutter doesn’t bother Shirl like it does me…she just breezes through life. Cider made with pears seems to be her tipple of choice presently. My insomnia seems to have gone away presently though…just had three 7 hours kips in a row and I’ve not done that for years! Strange.

      • I’m fighting the “Great Battle of Middle Age” this year myself. It’s getting to turn into Trench Warfare now…A little steak…countered with no more fast food, counter attack of Fried Chicken…

        Madness.

      • I’m guessing I’m a tad older than you. When I hit that middle age thing it coincided with knackering my knee and overwork causing my weight to balloon the nearly 20 stone – ended up with diabetes! So beware the tricks time can play and don’t end up the fat bastard I became. The wife used to call me FB back then yet fortunately only calls me FFB these days as I have long since got back to 11 1/2 stone. Best of luck!

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