The last turkey in the shop

Ceri Shaw
03/25/14 10:55:53PM
568 posts

Hi Philip.....diolch for posting....I think we're going to have to get some sort of poll on here so readers can vote for their favourite story. What do you think?

Philip evans
03/25/14 07:35:27PM
31 posts
LAST TURKEY IN THE SHOPIt was Christmas Eve in Merthyr Tydfil and last minute shoppers competed against shoplifters and pickpockets to get their respective final Christmas present list completed.The Town Centre was vibrant and full of life, which in turn contrasted with the butchers shop run by local man Huw Atkins Cleaver.All around him - lay evidence of death.Cuts of blooded beef, were assembled neatly in the shop-front window, as enticement and invitations to treat to the general public.Inside on huge metal rails, hung whole pig carcasses (minus the heads) and a variety of game birds, all lifeless and limp which adorned the shop like feathered Christmas ornaments.Hugh waved his hand in a friendly gesture , as a regular customer shot passed the place on the narrow pavement.Unfortunately for Huw, the man standing on the opposite pavement, who was on a day trip from Bargoed , to see the Christmas lights Merthyr Council had lavishly put up, took his gesture as an insult.The angry hill dweller looked at the shop window and saw red, the hand signal was misinterpreted and he entered the shop doorway intent on further bloodshed. What do you mean sticking two fingers up at me! he said aggressively.Had he been from Merthyr Tydfil, he might known poor old Huw Atkins Cleavers circumstances and reacted differently. Im awfully sorry ! apologised the 12 year old Portuguese box-boy, Frey Bentos helping to gut the fresh fish. Poor old Hugh ... he only has two fingers left on each hand....he is the clumsiest butcher left trading in the town! he said.Hugh held up his hand to reveal the three missing digits and the Bargoed man apologised most profusely. Its not easy in todays modern world to make ends meat! he said cutting up a pigs arse...... I darent drop anything...I cant pick it up! he said in his frustration.The man left the shop feeling awful- trying to pick a fight with a man who was no longer able to count passed five (without taking off his shoes and white socks).The butchers shop called, I cant believe its not Tofu had been there since 1840 and he had run it almost single-handed ever since .Hugh himself was 186 years of age- and he claimed that his longevity was down to eating lots and lots of red meat.He followed his own the first- Atkins diet.But the real reason was that Huw had sold his soul to the devil- otherwise how else could you account for the fact the shop was full of dead flesh and not one single insect had ever been seen in the shop window.Which contrasted with the local delicatessen opposite, which in the Summer was full of the wee beasties.Once , Mad Dai from Aberfan had asked to buy two wasps from them.Dai was told in no certain terms that it was a delicatessen and not a pet shop. So why are they in the window? puzzled Dai.Huw knew that good hygiene was next to Godliness and also that the local Public Health Officers were rigid with their enforcement procedures as he had been last time they visited in 1841.The Soul Trader seemed to be in possession of a special secret when it came to flavouring his produce making his devilled meat in constant demand.Over the last 186 years, he had witnessed a whole range of strange events.When he started in 1840, he was asked to cater for the Wedding of the then Queen Victoria and her consort cousin Prince Albert.This had beefed up his business following the loss of trade caused by the stopping of Transportation to New South Wales.Prince Albert too was so impressed,he wanted to bestow a Royal patronage on him as Huw had inspired him to adopt his own version of what became the Prince Albert when he watched Huw pierce a Cumberland sausage with a metal hook whilst on a Royal visit to the Town.Prince Albert was also a member of the Beezelbub Club...whereby you could pay monthly for your meat....and Hugh ran a little red book to record the tick of certain customers who were involved in his various secret societies.There may have been the Free Masons...but these were the Expensive Butchers and his personal record was saved under Sir Loin in the Joint account ledger.It was not just Royalty who paid Lip service to Huws business...there were other celebrities like Mick Jagger...he had some sympathy for that old devil who kept coming back for his anti-ageing meat.1970s comedian Dick Emery too was hooked on his produce.He would often be spotted outside the shop window looking at the tasty displays of liver, kidneys and animal hearts licking his lips and uttering You are offal...but I like you!His business had flourished especially during the Second World War with his Black(Arts) Market as meat was in short supply.If he hadnt used those sacrificial lambs from his ceremonies, then the good people of Merthyr would have gone short.During these difficult times, Government rations included a portion of Snoek carved from a sea creature as a replacement for meat and the dreaded spam.Forces sweetheart, Vera Lynn was always asking for a portion from Hugh.In return, he used to keep it under the counter ready for her arrival- marked secretly Whale Meat again-.US star Rock Hudson too would visit his Welsh Butchers shop but insisted on one of his box- boys delivering his meat around the back- to preserve his secrecy.Over the years his business had made him a lot of money most of which was stuffed into his mattress at home ...together with half a dozen penny black stamps, he had bought from the Post Office as souvenirs when the shop first opened.His involvement with blood had started back in 1831, when his father, a former Chartist, had accidentally dropped his handkerchief on the blood of dead calf , after a rowdy mob of workers had bumped his arm during the Merthyr Riots- resulting in the poor bugger being transported to New South Wales- and Hugh the local workhouse.Back in 2011, he returned from his day dreaming and realised that it was nearly 4.00pm and he was to close early that day.Frey Bentos stood next to him, with the palm of his brown hand outstretched like Oliver Twist.Huw gave him a 5.00 note for his 40 hour working week. I suppose youll be wanting your Christmas Bonus then? asked Huw.Reaching into his top pocket, he pulled out a 1.00 coin and tossed it at the little Portugeezer. Youve worked hard this week ..take a couple of those green pork pies that are past the sell- by date...never mind the Food Safety Act...have them for Christmas dinner...on me lad! said Huw full of the Christmas Spirit.Frey Bentos clicked his heels and ran as fast as he could into the street with the difficult decision that most Merthyr people face.Did he spend it in one of the many Pound shops or gamble it in one of the three bookmakers or two casinos close by.Huw sat down, tired from his exhaustions at the age of 186 , he had worked 170 years longer than most of the current generation who frequent the aforesaid establishments.He looked around him- his face hid another dark secret even darker than his dabbling with the occult.His house in Pigs Alley Twynyrodyn had received an unwelcome visitor from the SS who promised to return unannounced.His nemesis was local man Dewi Gooder.He was diametrically opposed to Huw in every way.He was young and worked part-time for both the Social Services and as a Christian Evangelist Minister - whilst also being a full time Vegetarian.He believed like Morrisey (not Bernard) that Meat was Murder.He wanted a blanket ban on the animal carcass trade and was angling to stop the cruel sport of fishing next.He had turned up at Huws bungalow determined to poke his pointy hook nose into Huws business.Dewi couldnt believe that someone of Huws age could live independently and run a business effectively at the age of 186.His snooping and peering through the curtains of Huws bungalow- appropriately named The Shambles brought him his reward.In front of the fire , was a rug marked out in the shape of a pentagram.Now vegetarian Dewi wanted blood and a sacrifice of his own- that of Huw Atkins Cleaver.Huw had told him to mind his own business and leave him now it had become personal.The Veggie champion wasnt prepared to take any of Huws chops.He decided that he would arrange to clear the place while he was in work, fumigate it and incinerate the Century old mattress and place Huw in sheltered living accommodation, thereby exercising his powers on Earth.Huw sat on his own stool and took a bite out a remaining stale green pork pie and took a slug of Whisky.As the Winter evening closed in, the street turned silent and very dark.Due to the involvement of the Council busy-body Huw didnt want to go home.He cheerily wished himself a Merry Christmas out loud, as he started to use his new fangled bacon-slicer for the first time. Moo-ry Christmas to you too! said a strange voice.Huw mid slice looked up and in the direction the sound had came from. there anyone there? asked the butcher nervously. Moo-ry Christmas! repeated the dead cow hanging on a hook in the chilled back storeroom. Jesus .....a talking cow....? asked Huw more for his own benefit than the animal. My name isnt Jesus...said the Bovine...its Taurus! he repeated. As in the astrological sign? asked Huw patting the cow and in return receiving his own pat on the back. No, hes not a Taurus ...he was born in December- he- like me a Capricorn! replied the goat hanging next to him. Dont believe the pair of them ...they are talking bull-shit!! said the mutton dressed as lamb laying side on from the chopping block on the huge table near the entrance door. Have I turned into Dr Doolittle? asked Huw... Or is it that pie I ate!! Ive read Charles Dickens a Christmas Carol...but I didnt expect to be visited by three animal ghosts at Christmas! Huw mumbled. I didnt even know animals had souls! he said innocently. So why are you lot haunting me...I didnt kill any of you! replied Huw. I was killed by the Queen herself....up on one of her estates...said a game Bird hanging from the rail....and I was only in a minor car accident.......she said she had a Balmoral duty ...she snapped my neck and here I was not a pheasant experience I can tell you ! Stop grousing will you.. youre driving me mad! said CJD another cow. It was in all the papers....big conspiracy theories! continued the pheasant unabated.Huw noticed that the animals were becoming stronger in his focus and the background of his butchers shop was starting to blur- strange indeed. Well what about me....I was bloody kidnapped...held against my will and then disposed of without trace some years ago! said the horse Shergar. Shergar...Queens pheasants ....I am in good company...I know I had a Royal Patronage from Prince Albert & Queen Victoria some years ago...but I dont understand why you lot are scaring me like this....I dont sell horsemeat and Im not amused...! Huw replied. But you sold dog food back then didnt you! whinnied Shergar. You did ...! said Old Shep backing up the story, as the Blue Peter Dog stepped out of the shadows and cocked his leg up on the faggots and pees. It made me the fastest dog ever on the BBC ...but gave me galloping indigestion ...and I had to wait until John Cravens Newsround had finished before I could scratch the grass in the Blue Peter Garden! said the Dog equally not amused.Huw looked down and noticed that there was a trickle of blood on the floor amongst the sawdust. That Frey Bentos....Ill give him...missing this blood! he continued.A tapping of a coin on the front window made Huw turn around.It was Dewi Gooder, filming him talking to the carcasses. Ill get you put away if it is the last thing I do...! he said lowering his mobile phone video camera....using the last of his energy, the vegetarian mustered a smile...he knew he had his quarry where he wanted the sweetbreads.The front door was still unlocked and he trespassed into the shop.Dewi could see a trickle of blood leading from the bacon slicer which turned into a stream running down the leg of the ancient butcher. Ive caught you on film chop sing to the chops...that should be enough to get you sectioned...Ive just rung for police backup- the bacon will be here any second! Too late to get him! said a set of swinging sausages on a string. Sausages....are you really moving AND talking! asked Dewi stunned by what he was witnessing. Dont be so surprised ! said a dead headless chicken.... Thats just the swine flew talking! How can you dont even have a head! questioned Dewi. Oh, its not us talking...we are just merely instruments of the Devil...he is using us like a ventriloquist uses a dummy! said a sheep still bearing a pentagram in red dye on its exposed heartless body. Were just here to distract Huw until it is too late! bleated a sheep. Dewi ....doesnt know it yet...but hes all but dead...he cut off his own penis using the new bacon- slicer and is slowly bleeding to death....! said the Horned One stepping out from his camouflage of a hoofed pig carcass. I had his soul years ago...but his body was more resilient! the Dark Lord continued.Huw dropped his kecks and looked down at his own headless chicken. And I thought I had done rasher things! said Huw. Its you I after now! said the Devil threateningly.Dewi raised two sausages up from the meat rack and made them into an impromptu cross. Im not Dracula... you stupid man....I actually exist...that other do-gooder up there...he said pointing towards the Heavens....he gave you humans the right to do whatever you want with all animals...including eating them....and put Huws severed willy down...cos that wont save you!Huw, you know what to do... if you want to have that barbecue position I offered you...! said Beelzebub. Honest more porkies? asked Huw. Absolutely ...Im 100% Satan! was the evil replyWith the remainder of his strength Huw Cleaver picked up a huge knife and shuffled towards the Social Services man with his trousers and pants around his ankles he then handed the knife handle first to Dewi as to use it as protection from the Demon.Dewi grasped the knife with both hands but the zombie-like Huw just kept coming.The blade lodged in Huws lower stomach with blood spurting everywhere over the Council employee.He forced Dewis hand down and around ....creating a Silverside cut of the old mans genital regions.As Huw slumped to the floor, Gwent policeman number 666 Colin Allcars entered the shop with his sidekick Geraint Peeler in close pursuit. Ello, Ello Ello, whats all this then? said the horrified pair together.Holding up the remainder of poor Huw Cleavers genitals, Dewi heard himself say Would you believe.... the last turkey in the shop?
updated by @philip-evans: 11/11/15 10:39:11PM