‘Int countryside boring...!’ I am the antithesis of the
character in The Fast Show. Honestly, there’s so much of it even in this tiny
little nation it almost mitigates against any notion of over-population or
over-crowding – there’s tons of
space.
I’ve never lived in the countryside as such (you can’t
really count East Kilbride), but I’m meeting an old friend today who did, and
she didn’t have much good to say about it. She told me a tale of a teacher in a
village school who suffered a particular self-inflicted mishap. This ‘accident’
found him visiting the local hospital to have a dildo removed from his anus.
Consider his remonstrations as he first discovers he can’t
quite remove it by himself; the cold sweat on realising that he has to seek
outside help.
At the hospital.
At the hospital where there are people. The local hospital
where there are people that will know him. He most likely teaches their kids.
It will then be known that he, the local teacher, has a
vibrator, a sex toy, lodged lodged up
his arse.
What will this mean? Will they want him to go on teaching
their kids? Will they want an explanation? There is only one true explanation.
He was pleasuring
himself while inserting a plastic cock into his back passage.
What about untrue explanations? What would a plausible
untrue explanation be?
He sat on it inadvertently? No-one would believe that.
He was attempting to dislodge or remove something from up
there? Yes, that was it! He had been terribly constipated for some days and thought
he may be able to induce a bowel movement by poking something up his arse.
A dildo? Where did the dildo come from?
The previous owner had left it behind? Unlikely!
A previous girlfriend? Maybe slanderous. Couldn’t ask her to
corroborate this lie, she was recently married.
He needed something solid that would invoke a shit so he’d
gone out and bought a dildo. In Norfolk? Where, Swaffam?
Why hadn’t he simply gone to a doctor with his complaint and
got some some powder or some tablets? Why straight to the vibrator ‘solution’?
Consider the teachers panic when he realised he would have
to leave the safety and privacy contained within his own four walls and go out
into the big intrusive world and have his extremely embarrassing predicament
dealt with.
How did he get to the hospital?
He couldn’t possibly have driven or in any way have sat down
in a car or a taxi or a bus or a train. Did he mince along there on a foot,
maybe wearing a long coat to conceal the protruding item though wearing no
trousers?
He must have phoned an ambulance.
‘What seems to be the problem sir?’ (they don’t send
ambulances willy-nilly, scarce resource an ambulance, needs to be a genuine
emergency().
‘Erm, it’s a bit embarrassing actually’
‘Have you had an accident sir? Can you give me some details?’
Enough already with
the questions.
‘I have an object I’m unable to remove from my back passage’
Now, experienced, professional 999 telephone handlers are
trained to react in a mature, professional manner whatever they’re confronted
with but, they’re only human. How in this case would the question ‘What manner
of object sir?’ be delivered with straight-face intact?
This would go down
well in the canteen later.
‘Erm, is that important?’ Futile flannel. Of course it’s
going to be important.
‘We have to have as many details as possible sir, to be sure
we respond quickly and appropriately’.
Also; the more you’re
not telling me, the more it’s clear that it’s rather an embarrassing implement
sir, currently rammed irreparably up your rectum.
Although, when you think about it, what object could it be
stuck up one’s arse that would not be alien and embarrassing? A broom handle?
Why? A hoover nozzle? Whatever for?
No way out of this one
sir. You’re well and truly fucked.
She told me he had to leave his teaching job and move out of
the area.
Wonder if he ever had problems with references?
