By Philip evans, 2021-03-10
“What time is he coming?” questioned retired nurse, Hannah Philatic.
“For the third time this Morning… 11.00 am!” replied her Partner-in-Crime, Joe Boxer.
“ I am the one that suffered multiple blows to my head not you!” he said hands shaking violently.
“Sorry, but it’s this Long-Covid…it’s a bugger with your memory!” said Hannah.
“ And I am nervous too!” she continued.
Hannah checked the letter headed by a green Westminster Portcullis.
“I never thought that I would get to meet the Health Secretary, Mr Handjob, in person!” she squealed excitedly.
“It’s not Hand-job -It’s HanCOCK !” scolded Joe “And don’t call him that for F***’s sake or he will definitely stop our funding!”
Following his retirement from the ring, due to the early onset of Parkinson’s disease, Joe and his business partner, Delroy Boyd from the house clearance business, they had turned into a pair of entrepreneurs.
Movers AND shakers if you like.
Their latest venture had been to turn the former Green Boxing Hall at Eighth Avenue into a vaccination centre for the local population on the Galon Uchaf Estate.
It was known locally as Jabber the Hut.
The Secretary of State for Health was so impressed with their reported performance levels in administering the vaccine shots that he wanted to see the place for himself.
Wales was ahead of England yet again and not just in terms of Six Nations Rugby and he wanted to understand why.
It was also an opportunity to turn yet another traditional Labour heartland into a Tory Blue voting area.
After all, Merthyr Tydfil had voted on a majority basis for Brexit – principally because they believed the Conservative lie that they would be able to stop immigration.
If there was one thing the residents of the Estate did not want, it was Foreigners coming over here and taking THEIR benefits.
Considering there were only a thousand residents within Motability scooter battery distance, they had done very well in their returns to the Department of Health.
Especially as there was only 500 people actually living on the Estate.
To ensure they were AL L inoculated within a week was extremely impressive and worthy of praise from Central Government.
After all, large swathes of the Country were misled into believing that the vaccine was made up from a combination of dead baby stem cells, Bill Gates Spunk, Arsenic and a tracking device.
Certain sections of the great unwashed didn’t believe that there was in fact an invisible germ that was killing them just because they were all obese.
Besides who wanted to live to the age of 35 anyway?
These people didn’t want any microchips, unless of course they were from McCain that is.
Nor did they want anyone checking on their every movement, whilst they were on Facebook or their Mobile Phone.
How else could they moonlight as a window cleaner, painter, hairdresser or nail beautician otherwise?
Their employee-Hannah was a large lady indeed.
Like most ex-nurses that had actually survived the pandemic, she was grossly overweight.
Her arse was so big that you could balance a cup of coffee on it without her knowing.
In contrast, Joe being an ex-pugilist was built like a split-pin.
His body was his temple and his claim to fame was that he had once had a part as body double for World Champion Merthyr boxer Johnny Owen – in the film ‘Snitches get Stitches’.
Both Joe and Delroy had been forced to live by their wits.
Dodging and weaving in the Business World just as they had in the ring.
It was strange how close the two former boxing rivals had become after retiring from taking low blows, and had both come up with joint ventures that had kept them one step ahead of the local rent collector.
After throwing in the towel, they had become designers of men’s underwear- and marketed a brand of men’s underpants that stretched automatically as they bent over.
It was named after a ‘left/right combination’ of famous people.
A Labour politician and a millionaire boxer.
It was goodbye to Builder’s cleavage when you owned a pair of ‘Wedgie Benn’s’.
Facebook had afforded them the business opportunity their parents and grandparents never had.
But the pair never rested on their laurels.
They were always looking to their next big venture and they realised that the time was right, just like everyone in the Government to cash in on the Tax-Payer during the pandemic.
They saw it as a way of getting some tax money back from Central Government -even if they hadn’t actually paid any themselves.
It was surprising what a bout of hysteria in the media could do to drum up business.
They had tried their hand at creating PPE out of old boxing head guards and gloves, but found that no-one in the local Queen Camilla hospital wanted to go into work looking like Muhammed Ali.
Not even Doctor Muhammed Ali.
The next best thing was to create their own supply of vaccine to the Third World – or Galon Uchaf- as it was known locally.
They had an insider in the hospital- a friend of Hannah, who was happy to smuggle a phial of the experimental Oxford Vaccine out and a Sixth- Former in the local Penydre School with a C at O Level in Chemistry to create their own knock-off version.
They could then undercut the competition by reducing manufacturing costs and jump the waiting list by purchasing directly from the pair under their Company name of Jabber the Hut Limited.
The advert on Facebook for their product boasted of a special ‘Happy Hour’ deal.
They had even added their own ingredients to help fight off the different variations of the germ that had developed in the former United Kingdom.
The Government recommended that a person be given a first shot of the vaccine which could provide up to 75% cover for six months and a further jab within twelve weeks to bring up immunity to 93%.
With the Jabber the Hut vaccine- which contained coffee and diet-coke and crystal meth- two shots was never enough.
Some people just coming back for more as they had become addicted.
Now in Galon Uchaf money had gone by the wayside.
They had reintroduced the barter system, as it didn’t affect their state benefits.
There was no Universal Credit level cut-off when it came to the number of chickens that you kept in the garden.
Outside the hut, queues were starting to form- all two metres apart that had been spray painted onto the pavement like a Premiership referee marking a wall from goal.
The fear of the Kent variant, meant that long queues just like that of the HGV lorry drivers near Dover were forming all the way down First Avenue.
A black limousine, now missing one of its wheel trims, arrived at the Hut and out stepped a weasel looking man surrounded by more bodyguards than Maria Carey.
He was ushered into the Hut to meet the owners but obviously to avoid shaking their hands.
‘Good Morning….said Hancock swiftly changing into a white lab coat for the photo opportunity before adopting the Tory Power stance which made him look a politician desperate to hold onto his deposit.
“Welcome Matt!” said Joe hands already shaking but not making contact.
Hannah curtsied and the sound of ripping of material could be heard in the street.
“I always wanted crotchless panties Mr Cock…!” she blurted out without thinking.
The glare from both Joe Boxer and Delroy Boyd was worse than the face-off at the Nigel Benn and Cwis Eubank fight.
Hancock then point up at the Price Tariff Board and enquired if it was a joke designed to raise spirits.
He read aloud:
‘One shot of Astra Zenaca for £3.00 or two for a Pfizer’.
He was surprised to also see a list of vegetables underneath and their vale on the Galon Uchaf equivalent of the FTSE index.
He then enquired as to where the vaccine was stored as it had to be below minus 80 and minus 60 degrees.
Joe opened the door and proudly displayed his storage area.
It was a former ice-cream van marked on the side as ‘Crony-Bell’.
“If you are a good boy you can have a ‘Moonshot Rocket Ice’ with it in exchange for one turnip- thanks to you we have lots of lolly!!!!” said Anna trying to be helpful.
“What about people who do not possess green fingers?” chuckled the Health Secretary.
“Then we have a watered-down version of Astra Zenaca for them…in Wales -we call it the ‘Poor Dab’!” replied Del.
“We do however warn them that there are some potential side effects- such as not being able to ever work again but strangely enough most people in this area are happy to accept such a risk!” interjected Joe.
“Who administers the vaccine?” asked Hancock.
Hannah stepped forward wearing a pair of Alan Titchmarsh gardening gloves and a phantom of the opera mask autographed by Michael Crawford covering her eyes only.
“Me!” she said proudly.
“I used to be a nurse and I had the pleasure of training under my good friends Baroness Munchausen Beverley Allitt and Dr Harold Shipman in Manchester!” Hannah continued.
“So that is how you got on the approved supply list….a Baroness!....of course!” said Hancock.
“Of course, I only put this gear on not to frighten the kids, as I tell they that I am really the ‘Masked Syringer’ off the Saturday Night Show of the same name!” continued Hannah.
“Although a lot of them already know how to find a vein, lots of them have seen their parents chasing the Welsh Dragon!” she continued in a matter of fact fashion.
“That was why we set up this Gym in the first place…interrupted Joe Boxer…to teach the females in the families how to dodge punches in the ring….otherwise it would be a bloodbath in this pandemic!”
“ A regular Quentin Quarantino!” if you like!” interrupted Del pleased at his comedic ad lib.
“Do people REALLY live like this in the 21 st Century?” asked Hancock of one of his aids horrified at the prospect.
“Never been to Merthyr before then Butt have u?” said an elderly woman sticking her head around the door.
“Who the Hell are you?” asked one of the Bodyguards from Serco.
“Mrs Paula Grady!” fired back the resident.
“Who wants to know?” she spat back with all the viciousness of a cat in the middle of a cat fight.
“Her Majesty’s Health Secretary” came the reply.
“Look…replied Paula….I queued up overnight to make sure that I was first in line for the jab…to give you an idea of what it was like - imagine the queue for Wimbledon or outside Harrods on Black Friday before Christmas….except with more Police sirens and Fire Fighters being pelted with stones!”
“Or in Merthyr the queue for the Dole Office!” she continued.
“Please let her in Officer….she has been outside since 5am in sub-zero temperatures…she will be our first guinea pig of the day!” said Hannah.
Joe tried to distract the Health Secretary from that comment.
“Before we inject them with the vaccine…we try to put the patient at ease by asking a few simple questions!” Joe said showing his authority.
“Name?” asked Joe shaking whilst holding the clipboard giving the appearance of the former football scores vidiprinter.
“Paula Grady!” replied the elderly woman.
“Address?” asked Joe.
“53 Thirteenth Avenue!” she replied.
Joe raised an eyebrow suspiciously as the Avenue count only went up to Twelve.
“Age?” Joe questioned further.
“Eighty years of age!” replied the old crone.
“Date of Birth!” he continued left eyebrow raised higher than Everton manager, Carlo Ancelotti.
“01/04/1991…sorry I meant 1941!” said Paula.
Joe reached across and snatched at the elderly woman’s beard sharply.
It revealed a much younger woman in her early thirties.
“Well Mrs Doubtfire…where do you think this is?..... America?” he said booting the woman up the arse out through the door of the hut.
“I thought it was suspicious….no-one has all their OWN teeth at that age on this Estate!” said Joe triumphantly.
“When can I have my vaccine? Because I am in category Ten!” moaned Paula (whose real name was Dani La Rue).
“Come back after Meghan Markle gets accepted back into the Royal Family with open arms!” said Joe.
“Come back any sooner and you will get a different jab!” shouted Delroy, as the attempted fraudster slunk down the street.
“So near…. so Spar!” Paula moaned shaking her head to the next imposter in the queue.
“I think we have seen enough!” said Hancock signalling to his lackies.
“What about our licence….will it be renewed?” asked Joe nervously.
“Can you make a donation to the Conservative Party?” asked the Health Secretary.
“Will a sack of turnips, some prizes from Castle Bingo and a chicken do?” asked Hannah.
“ I think we already have enough vegetables in the Cabinet already!” came the reply.
Stories“What time is he coming?” questioned retired nurse, Hannah Philatic. “For the third time this Morning… 11.00 am!” replied her Partner-in-Crime, Joe Boxer. “ I am the one that suffered multiple blows to my head not you!” he said hands shaking violently. “Sorry, but it’s this Long-Covid…it’s a bugger with your memory!” said Hannah. “ And I am nervous too!” she continued. Hannah checked the letter headed by a green Westminster Portcullis. “I never thought that I would get to meet the Health Secretary, Mr Handjob, in person!” she squealed excitedly. “It’s not Hand-job...
Read MoreStatue of Eddie Thomas, Merthyr Tydfil cc-by-sa/2.0 - © Ian S - geograph.org.uk/p/4001542 “ When shall we three meet again?” asked Daniel Druff dramatically. The remaining two members of his drama group at Merthyr Tydfil Technical College stared back from their online Zoom meeting and shrugged their shoulders. “I think it best if the ‘Read Brigade’ meet in person to discuss our proposal, in order that no third party can infiltrate our Group or stop our plan…agreed?” continued Daniel. His fellow Brigade members of Grant Aide and Douglas Deep...
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Read MoreThe queue from the main tent was six deep and stretched for nearly two miles back to the little Powys town of Hay-on-Wye. The reason was the release of Howard Marks new book at the Hay Book festival.The former Oxford Graduate and Welsh mastermind of a European Cannabis Ring sat ‘smug’ly. Who said crime doesn’t pay. The best selling author had released his latest in a series of books with a view to helping his former fellow prisoners bide away their time in jail. Like the author himself, the release date had kept going forward, as the US backed Drugs Enforcement Agency had objected...
Read More“ What do you think of the wheels then?” asked Astra the professional car thief from the Gurnos. “ Nice…!” nodded his hoodie friend Elvi$, as he climbed into the front seat of the mini-ambulance. The vehicle sped away at breakneck speed on the Gurnos Ring Road heading towards Galon Uchaf. “ Where did you get it?” asked Elvi$. “ He stole it from outside the Gurnos Home for the elderly!” said a voice from the back of the vehicle. Astra broke suddenly and a lady with whiter hair than Philip Schofield shot forward in her wheelchair to join the pair in the front. “ Who the...
Read MoreHis luck had finally run out. Reynaldo the Red Fox was suspended, hanging on a barbed wire fence by his stomach. The more he twisted, the more the barbs sunk their teeth into his pink soft underbelly. He was trapped and he knew it. He was literally kicking himself that he should get caught this way- in such a simple fashion – as he a very intelligent creature. He had misjudged the take-off, slipping on some sheep-shit. Reynaldo had for over a decade, survived the harsh Winter temperatures, and rainy Summers that Gwynedd in North Wales had to offer its native fauna....
Read MoreLittle Daniel Boyd was lost. The seven year old thought he was clever, when he ignored his teacher’s command to hold the hand of his classmate on a trip to Dan-yr Ogof caves in the Glyn-Neath Valley. True, it was an act of revenge by his teacher, Mr Don Oxbridge for his recent behaviour in class at Gwaun Dowlais Primary School in Merthyr Tydfil. Dan had sulked because he didn’t want to be paired with gypsy, Gustavo Worrell from the local travelling community that lived close to the Slip Road in the former mining Town, as he more ‘bugs’ than a spy from GCHQ in Cheltenham....
Read More“ Alright Mun!” said the young lawyer. “ Keep your hair on will you!” It was somewhat ironic really, as Welsh Barrister Leo Felix was only 23 but his fair hair was already receding more than a Norfolk beach at High tide. “What are you doing in there… you nonce?” shouted an angry commuter, as he repeated banged on the lower half of the train WC cubicle door. He thought about warning the angry man that what he had just said in front of his fellow passengers was actionable as a slander, but sight unseen he suspected that the individual wouldn’t have cared less nor had the...
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Read More“Is there is any p-p-person here with a j-j-ust impediment then let him s-speak now or forever hold his p-p-peace” said the stuttering Priest. The Roman Catholic Holy Man, Ollie Water, didn’t normally have a stutter, but when he had been given the task of marrying the daughter of one of the Heads of the Five Taffia Families to one of the those with links to the Provisional IRA- it was understandable. The Priest looked around him at the congregation of St Illtyd’s Roman Catholic Church in Dowlais, Merthyr Tydfil and noticed on the right side of the church the number of men...
Read MoreCouncillor Phil Bent was in a jam. He was in a right hole. He had been given a wedgie on many occasions as Chairman of the Planning Sub-Committee but this was a first. Buried up to his waist in an old Air-Shaft in Mountain Hare meant he couldn't move a muscle. Below him a 30 foot drop and above him only sky. His search for the 500 metre buffet zone at East Merthyr Land Reclamation scheme had proved fruitless. He checked the Council Minutes.yes there supposed to be a buffet zone. There was no such thing as a free lunch he moaned as he hung suspended in the air by his three spare...
Read More‘The North wind did blow and Merthyr had snow and what did poor Farrah do next?” sang Dean ‘Belle’ End as he sat on the vandal proof metal bench alongside the Merthyr Railway Station. The sound caused Farrah to turn around sharply, exposing his nether regions to the bleak March air. His coat, made entirely of Bar towels ,acquired from the many pubs he had visited on his personal tour of the Rugby Six Nation Countries and beyond, offered little protection from the elements. His roman sandals acquired from a trip to Rome in 2009 , were further evidence of his total disregard for...
Read More“ Hot Dog Sir?” asked the pimply faced burger vendor. Council official Job Swurth didn’t look happy...but then again he never did. “ What the Hell are you doing?” he moaned at the bemused van owner, Rann Cydd. “ Selling burgers from a lay-by...everyone does it in Wales!” he laughed merrily. “ But this is the Galon Uchaf acceleration lane to get on the A465 (T) Heads of the Valleys Road!” barked Job shaking his head. “ That’s what’s clever about my pitch....everyone has to stop!” said Rann. “ It’s all about location...location...location!” he said boastfully. “...
Read MoreThe cars engine spluttered and coughed for the last time as he parked his ‘Popemobile’ outside the house of one of his parishioners in Crabapple Close Gurnos Merthyr Tydfil. He hoped that the first time this call was genuine. He really wanted to do battle with the Devil face to face . He looked up at the bedroom window and could see a luminous eerie glow inside. His bumper sticker ‘Honk if you love the Lord’ was the only sign that he was a Man of God ….that and the small silver image of a fish attached to the back. Silverfishes were common in that part of the world. This was the only...
Read MoreThe father and son made their way through the underground car park of the Civic Centre in Merthyr Tydfil. They were in luck. They didn’t have to walk through the crowds of people that were stood in the forecourt outside the main entrance. Pressing the lift call button repeatedly, little Thomas was happy. At the age of seven , everything was a game….no money worries…it was like being on his own Civil List . His father , Richard tried to fake a smile, he knew he was at the Civic Centre for more serious business. He was there to see the Council Social Services...
Read More.. “ The weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful...let it snow, let it snow let it snow!...Nos Da!” declared camp weatherman, Derek Brockway live to the nation from the BBC studios in Cardiff. “ Since when have you been interested in the weather Charlie?” asked Tommy ‘Hilfiger’ Silverback to the leader member of the Lavender Road Mob. “ Duh!....since I learned that the boss man Mr Bigg gets coded messages over the BBC about his delivery times for his drug shipments!” laughed Charlie Kong. “ Mr Bigg...who’s dat den?” asked Alan ‘Tit-che’ Guevara. “ He...
Read More"The North wind did blow and Merthyr had snow and what did poor Farrah do next?” sang Dean ‘Belle’ End as he sat on the vandal proof metal bench alongside the Merthyr Railway Station. The sound caused Farrah to turn around sharply, exposing his nether regions to the bleak March air. His coat, made entirely of Bar towels ,acquired from the many pubs he had visited on his personal tour of the Rugby Six Nation Countries and beyond, offered little protection from the elements. His roman sandals acquired from a trip to Rome in 2009 , were further evidence of his total disregard for Valleys...
Read More“Good night and good luck!” said the Curator Derek Dunny as he locked the huge wooden front door of the Cyfarthfa Castle Museum. The only Grade 1 Listed Structure in the whole of the Merthyr Tydfil Borough was imposing looking at the best of times, but on a dark wet Winter’s evening it was downright scary. Safer Merthyr employee Dicky Knight looked around nervously. It was his first night as a security guard and he didn’t feel very safe. “Everything looks so much more scary in the dark!” he said to his shadow, who was his only companion for the night. Merthyr Council too had...
Read MoreThe sound of a helicopter buzzed overhead as the terrified Welshman cowered in his impromptu sand dune bunker.The soldier dressed in green khaki combat gear stood out like a pork pie in a Jewish buffet against the yellow sanded backdrop of Helmond region in Afghanistan. The war on terror wasn't working as far as Harry R. S. Crack was concerned. The sound of explosions all around him sent him deeper down the steep sides of the bunker as he began to suck his thumb for comfort. He suddenly realised that he was not alone, as a ginger haired soldier dressed in a German Africa Korps...
Read MoreRead more 'Boz' tales here “ What’s their pool team like then boyz?” questioned Fast Eddie Felson dressed in his white hat and black and white brogues as he sat in the back of the minibus. “ Not bad- they have a few Welsh players but nothing we can’t handle on and off the table!” said Bobby Mogzy cricking his knuckles. The boys in the team minibus, had set out from the Iron Horse Public house in Galon Uchaf Road ,Merthyr Tydfil at 6.00pm to arrive for 8.00pm. They knew if they arrived late, they would be docked a frame every twenty minutes. It was a...
Read MoreRead more 'Boz' tales here Her long hair flowed all down her back, as should stood next to a fruit machine in Victoria Street, Merthyr Tydfil. Her doctor had advised her to change her diet and change her habits if she wanted to live past 40. As the reels on the machine, whirred electronically and stopped with a red cherry icon, two bananas and an orange. She had lost her money again, even if she had nearly had her medically recommended five fruits a day. It was Wednesday and teenager Amber Punt was skint. She had had her state ‘benefit’ and wasted...
Read MoreHe was nervous at the best of times but tonight he was positively bricking it. The lights went down on a hushed audience at the Aberdare Coliseum and the adrenaline rush of the young fledgling comedian intensified. He waited for the nod from the stage manager before he went out into the Cynon Valley Snake Pit. He wasn’t being paid he was just volunteering…a YTS trainee comedian …as there were precious few jobs in the Valleys he thought he would give it a go…and his tour of the South Wales clubs was starting to take off. After all if Rhod Gilbert could make it on television...
Read More“It is the year of our Lord 1644 and we are gathered at this Hamlet of Gyrnos, to witness a trial to determine the guilt or innocence of Margaret, the straw roofer’s daughter, who is accused of being in league with the Devil!” declared the Puritan dramatically. The man was dressed all in black from his stovepipe hat down to his cape and trousers, with only a square white frilled ‘ruff’ , adorning the area around his collarbone. He held a silver-tipped cane in one hand and use it somewhat belligerently to command respect from the assembled crowd. “ This wretch is accused of...
Read MoreDipping Your Wick by Phil 'Boz' Evans The student rugby player looked around nervously. He was regretting his bet with his mates already. Manfred Quinn had never told anyone but he was frightened of the dark. It was one of the more common phobias that humans suffered from and dated back to the dawn of mankind and the dulling of man’s principal defence of the sense of sight making them more susceptible to attack from a predator. Standing on a plinth in Madame Tussaud’s wax museum in Baker Street, London, he felt like a fish out of water, but knew that his beloved...
Read More1 CommentsThe man lay silently in the savannah grass of the Ngorongord valley in Tanzania. He didn't dare breathe or move for startling the Thompson's gazelle that he had tethered to a small Acacia tree. From his clothing, you would never have guessed that he was Welsh- only his WRU rubber wrist band on his right 'trigger' hand gave it away. The Blackwood Dentist, Major Orion Jekyll- Hyde-Hunt, was the veteran predator of the Serengeti, as he approached his 75th Birthday intent on giving himself an early birthday present. He wasn't using the little antelope for target practice- he was after much...
Read MoreNewly expectant Father Declan Anthony Pod paced nervously in the corridor of the Maternity Wing of Llanelli Hospital. The Year was 1972 and like every Rugby Union Fan in Wales, he secretly wanted a son to follow in his on-field footsteps and play rugby first for the Scarlets and then for Wales. The timing of his Wife’s labour couldn’t be any worse, as on this very day, Llanelli were playing host to the International Touring Team New Zealand. The Grand Stand ticket in his shirt pocket was burning a hole in his heart, as he was caught in the horns of a dilemma. Did he sneak off to the big...
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