Heather Moulson

That night, in his luxurious Mayfair flat, Lord Posh slept fitfully.  Where had he seen that boundah Melvin before?

Stumbling down to breakfast, it suddenly came to him – yes, of course!!

Before Lord Posh could  burst into the Amanda Ann household unannounced, Melvin and Paul were having intense Breaking Bad talk.  The elder of the men trying not to admit he was enjoying himself.  After a lifetime in a household of women……

” ‘Scuse me, Majorie old gal”, Poshie puffed as he burst through the door, “need to use your telephone….”

 “Er – yes, Poshie, if you so wish.”, Marjorie answered, bemused.

After a brief conversation, he gathered Paul and Marjorie together:

 “What the hell is going on, chum?”  Paul enquired.
 “I have taken the liberty of inviting round Melvin’s parents!”, the pintsized, blueblooded toff announced.

“What….?”, said Melvin, overhearing from the top of the stairs, his acned face contorted with panic!

“Oh no!,” Marjorie exclaimed, 

 “We’d better lock away the (remaining) silver!”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, my dear.”

The doorbell chimed:
“Mary!”, Lord Posh commanded, “Answer the door!”

 Mary did as her former lover required, then nearly dropped the cake!
Surely not…..

 Two imposing figures entered the modest hallway.  
“Good day to you.  We believe our son Melvin is here.”

 “Good Grief!,” Melvin’s potential father-in-law exclaimed in a bemused fashion, “Your parents are posh!!!”

Whatever is the meaning of this?  Melvin not being common after all!!!

Tune in same time, same channel to reveal the truth about the pimpled young rogue.  

Don’t touch that dial!!!

Mary was not pleased to see the father of her children lounging around like Lord Muck in her employer’s home. 

 “Ai say, servant!”, he began, “Some Vienetta if you please”

 “Shut yer cake’ole!  You sound ridiculous!”
“I’m posh now, don’t you know – what? Gonna marry the daugther (when she’s 18)”

Mary ignored the last comment. 
 

 “And I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you to visit your children at the local borstal!
Some father you are!  And now, you’re about to start another one!”

 “Naw!”, the young man explained, “She just said that to piss off ‘er old man.  Matter of fact, she’s on the Blob, and gone out wiv ‘er mum to get Tampax and that”

 “So,” Melvin leered, “Why don’t we get ourselves up those old stairs?  That’s wot toffs do, don’t they?  They shag the servants.  It’s their right and that.”

 “Oh, Master Melvin!  Were they YOUR balls I just put my knee in?!  An’ have some fuckin’ cake while you’re at it!”

 The young gun crawled in agony through the house.  “I’ll have you sacked, my girl!  Pack yer bags this instant!”
“Bollocks!”, Mary replied. 

 Melvin found his potential father-in-law, and explained about the servant’s insubordination.
Paul sneered.  “Oh, you mean the mother of your children.  Now do be quiet, man, Breaking Bad is about to start”

“Breaking Bad?  I LOVE Breaking Bad, me.  I mean, Yo!”
“Extraordinary!  Yes, it’s about two chaps cooking or something.  Are they about to open a restuarant then?”

 

“Who the hell painted these bannister’s pink?!”

 I was not in the best frame of mind.

 “Now, why don’t you go out for a nice walk?

 And take Mara with you”
My wife had a strange relationship with my current lover/friend.  

 So to please my nagging wife, me and Mara entered into the great outdoors.
I strode on, regardless.
“Puff!”, said Mara
“Don’t call ME a puff!  Oh, I see….by the way, Mara, you can be a producer.  Apparently, you have to sleep with several people first.  I’ve got a list on me.”
Mara brightened at this prospect.  Was the whole world sex-mad?, I pondered gloomily.

 Marjorie and Lord Posh sneaking out to some Gin Palace in Soho, Mara and I crept home.  

Tea was served.  “For Gods sake, Mara, I can’t eat Mary’s cake all on my own.  Sit down please.”

Mara came over and held me.  She told me that Lavinia would be alright, and that she would come home when she was ready.   So how about she help me find that list?  We melted into each other, the cake forgotten. 

“Phew!  That was wonderful, Mara.  I shall miss you.”
Mara didn’t argue.  We both knew that that would be the last time.  Now she had that list, there was no stopping her.  Such spunk, that girl.  
Suddenly, the front door opened.  We sat up abruptly:

 It was my little girl, returned to the fold.  Only she had a rather unsavoury accessory with her.
“Oh papa!  You’re not Doing It with one of those horrid servants again, are you?!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that, my girl!”
Now I was really incensed, “Where have you been for the past five days?!”

 “Melvin and I have eloped!  And I’m carrying his child!  (again)”
“Aaarrgh”, I replied.

Has the evil Melvin bewitched our Lavinia once again?  Has he really got his feet under the table now?  How will Paul tell Marjorie?
Will Mara get to the top of the list?

Tune in, same time, same channel….
Don’t touch that dial!!

Of course, there had been things…..

 Such as Lavinia’s increasing coldness to her much older fiancee….

 …. and no more nightly visits to her bedchamber.

So, late the next evening, I set my own little trap, and awaited in anticipation.

 And my patience rewards me, as they both climb the stairs to Lavinia’s room.

 “Papa!”, Lavinia exclaimed, horrified.
“Awright, mate?”, Melvin greeted me cockily

“Lavinia, off to bed.”, I said calmly
“Papa!  You don’t understand!”, she shrieked.
“Oh I think I do.  Come and join me in the conservatory, Melvin.”, I said quite amiably.

 I smiled warmly at the boy, but my eyes stayed cold.  
“Got a fag, mate?”, Melvin ventured
“No.”, I said, “Now, Melvin, what’s it going to be then, eh?  A rifle up the jacksey, or a bashing from Mrs Slagg?  Which one will make you run faster?”
“Oi!  Mr AA!  I’m a good boy, I am!”
“Fuck off,” I said calmly.  And he did just that.  

 Lavinia did not take this very well.

And brutally broke off her engagement with our closest friend.

So that night, Lord Posh and I raided the Gin and got hammered (Marjorie already passing out).

 And Lord Posh ended up in bed with Mary….

And I, with Mara 
(weekend visit)

 Marjorie, upon coming to, simply smirked.
Better the devil you know, and all that.

But where was Lavinia……?!

Gasp!  Surely she hasn’t eloped with that Melvin?!

Will Lavinia’s parents ever find her?  Will Marjorie ever be sober?  What has that fiend Melvin, done with little Lavinia?!

Don’t miss the next gripping installment.  Tune in, same time, same channel….

For blogs and interviews with these static stars, click the link below:
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Part One

What ho!  Simply spiffing to be back – and welcome to Series Four.  Topping news!  Lord Posh managed to wangle more money from our former estate.  Decided to invest it into a super terraced house in the next road!

 Worth 2 million, what?  We couldn’t even give these labourers cottages away at our old place!  Still, good schools and all that.  Extraordinary these middle classes!  

Neighbours look a bit dodgy though!
 

 I’d show you round but I can’t get into the fucking thing.  1/24th scale and all that, what?

Have decided to offer it to Mr and Mrs Slagg.  Can’t keep having them bunking down in the old garden shed – arf!  arf!

 Marjorie, meanwhile, horrified at having to discuss servant’s welfare, stays well out of it.  She simply grills Mary on where I’ve hidden the gin.

 I suspect that Mrs Slagg is far more enthusiastic about the new place, than her partner.  

 “Does it have to be so fuckin’ pink?”, was all he uttered.  
I think the impending commitment to Mrs Slagg is the real bete noir.  Them not being married yet and all that.  

 Meanwhile, my pilot TV show has been well received.  BBC has made the highest offer so far.  

Then my fortune downturned:

 Looking out at the evening sun, before relenting and giving Marjorie her gin, I saw something I didn’t want to see:

 And what I suspected all along……
Melvin and Lavinia together again.  

Will Paul be able to nip this in the bud?  Will Lord Posh turn nasty?  Will Marjorie ever get her gin back?  

Tune in to part Two, same time, same channel….

Don’t touch that dial …..

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Marjorie awoke from her drunken slumber to see her husband sobbing before her:

 Then she saw Lord Posh lying there next to her. 
“Paul”, she said softly, “It’s not what you think.”

 Lord Posh, once awoken, also did his best to dissuade his (disgraced) best friend that this was all above board. 
“Had too much Dubonnet, old chap!  Bally passed out.  That was all.  Don’t sleep with other men’s wives, you know that.”

Paul dried his tears:
“Th – then I’m not too late?”

“Hmph!  Will have to think about that one!”, Marjorie scowled.
“However, there is some good news.  I was going to write and tell you, but now you’re actually here…”

Paul was appalled at Marjorie’s behaviour, and he and Krista were leaving the family home:

Like most of these things, it was all quite civilised.

 “Well, goodbye, Paul.” said Marjorie, “And thank you for such a shit marriage!  And you’d better take that scrubber, Costa or Starbucks, whatever her name is, with you.”

“Ha ha!”, Paul said stiffly, “Very funny, Marjorie.  This is what you do after Krista opened her heart to you.”

“Opened her legs more like,” Marjorie said, having to have the last word.

 There were tears from the other members of the house, but Marjorie was certain they weren’t for bloody Paul!  

Marjorie was truely alone.  She had never been anything but a wife, now she was lost, though strangely at peace, after all that fighting.

 However, she reckoned without the charming companionship of Lord Posh every evening.  Appalled at Paul’s behaviour, he became a good and close friend – with no hanky-panky.

 He was feeling pretty abandoned himself, what with Mary packing him up for a (visiting) Texan!

 His friendship with the doe-eyed Lavinia also deepened.

Meanwhile, things were not going so well for Paul.  In their little love nest in Shepherds Bush, Krista became shrewish and nagging.  She resented Paul’s pilot show, and demanded to play a part in it!  But Paul didn’t have that sort of pull – yet.

He began to yearn for Marjorie’s elegant sighs of discontent.  “Accidentally” walking past his old home one evening, he saw his wife laughing and joking with Lord Posh.  How could they have so much fun without him ?!

 And that night, he began to realise that Krista only reminded him of Marjorie when she was younger.

He left her a note while she slept, and crept off into the night
 

“Oh please don’t let me be too late!”, he puffed.

But when he got to his former bedchamber:
 

“Ah no!  I am too late!”, Paul sobs, 
“I’ve ruined everything !”

 

Has the silly sod really blown everything?  Or is this just a phase?  
Or has Marjorie actually given him the elbow, in favour of Lord Posh?  And will the Texan be able to impregnate Mary before he’s deported? 

Tune in same time, same channel to see the final gripping episode of The Amanda Ann family show.

Don’t touch that dial!!!

 

Life had not been too good to Hamish, since he’d been booted out of Vicar college

 He took to dossing outside the Amanda Ann family home – where he’d once been so wanted

 On the side, Mrs Slagg and Mary slipped him a cake or two

Marjorie saw them, but said nothing

Then one day, she confronted him herself:

“Good morning, Hamish.  How are you?”
“Jings lassie!  You’re not gonna kick me in the marriage furniture again, are you?!”

“Oh, I do feel bad about that”, Marjorie demurred, “Lets get you cleaned up, and er- talk about old times.”

And as he bathed his toned body clean, Marjorie plied him with their best wine

“ai think I’m a bit too sozzled, Hen, for any love action!”

“Yes,” Marjorie said, “We’ll get you to bed – to sleep, that is”

Later on, Marjorie sent Mary to Superdrug, Lavinia to a sleepover and Mrs Slagg to Saw 3 at the multiplex.
Paul tied up at the studio with his Pilot show, the two “wives” were alone in the house.  Krista crept around nervously:

 “Oh, do join me for afternoon tea, Krista my dear”  Marjorie called after the jumpy Swede

“Oh, that would be so nice, Marjorie.  I’ve longed to talk to you.  You see, Paul really can love us both”
“Yes”, Marjorie smiled tightly, “now do drink your tea.”

After one cup, Krista suddenly felt sleepy.
“You look tired, my dear.” Marjorie said,  “Do go up to my bed and have a lie-down.  It’s not like you haven’t been on it before!”
Krista groggily thanked her, and headed for the master bedroom. 

Marjorie quickly threw the rest of the sleeping draught into the fish tank.  Then waited patiently for her husband to come home.

“What-ho, Marjorie!  What a swine of a day!  It’s not easy all that television nonsense!”
“Oh really?”
Marjorie sympathised.
“Er – where’s Krista?”
“The poor lamb was so tired.  I sent her upstairs for a lie-down”
“That’s the spirit, Marjorie, I knew you’d get the hang of this polygamy thing.”

But Paul was in for a shock!  
“Oh my God!”

Krista woke up groggily, and found herself next to an unconcious Hamish
“Paul, my darling, I can explain….”


“Oh God!  Why him ?”
Paul had taken this very badly indeed

Marjorie sat at the foot of the stairs, cackling to herself.  Any minute, she’d see that bitch’s suitcase come down the stairs

And she did, but Paul was alongside it!

“Marjorie!  Krista told me how you tricked her!  How could you?!”


Bugger, Marjorie thought, the honey-voiced Swede had obviously talked him round.


“Well, you got your way!  Krista is leaving!

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Marjorie is taking comfort from Mrs Slagg in the kitchen.

“It’s one of them mid-life crises, Ma’am.  He’ll get over it!  Charlie gets loads of ’em, don’t you, Charlie?”
She gestured to her boyfriend standing before her (Paul’s true father).
“Why, if Charlie went off with another gal, you’d soon change your mind, wouldn’t you, Charlie?”

 “Er – yeah”, he mumbled.

Secretly he thought the new mistress was smashing, and had been more civil to him than his daughter-in-law had ever been.

At first, Marjorie’s allies worked hard and dilligently to protect her territory:

 Mary “accidently” spilt drink over Krista seven times in one cake serving.
“Please be more careful, Mary.”, Marjorie had smirked.

 And Mrs Slagg “managed” to ruin Krista’s silk panties in a 90 degree wash!

Paul was particularly furious about this!

 Lavinia (escaping from Christian camp), took a less subtle approach, and kicked the husband-nabbing swede brutally in the vagina!
“Goal!”, Mary had shouted.

 There was to be no action for the “newly-weds” that evening!

 Marjorie, herself, did nothing.  Softly, softly and all that.

Krista would try to talk to Marjorie, who would clam up and snub the bitch.
She was not having any of it!

Sadly, the tide soon turned:

 Krista cured Mary of her terror of the washing machine.  And showed her what you really put in it.  Teaching the young skivvy to love and embrace her new kitchen (like they did in Sweden and that)

 And Krista showed Mrs Slagg things to do with a herring that she had only ever dreamt of!  

 And despite the eight year age difference, Krista became the sister Lavinia had never had.   Talking about chaps, make-up and all that sort of thing.

So the wall came tumbling down pretty fast.  Marjorie should have known she’d never have a chance against someone like Krista.  However:

 Marjorie held a cunning plan up her sleeve.  One that would send the unwelcome Scandanavian packing – for Good!!!

Will Marjorie’s extraordinary and outrageous plan ever work?  Will Mrs Slagg ever be able to pickle a herring?
Will Mary ever do a full washload?  And at what temperature?

Don’t miss the next gripping installment, same time, same channel.
Don’t touch that dial!!

For an exclusive interview with the wonderful Lord Posh, click the link below:

  lifewiththeamandaannfamily.weebly.com

As Lord Posh had been so unsupportive lately, Paul confided in his agent about his turmoil:

 The Agent, who had come to talk about a possible TV show, was delighted about this:

 “By the way, this is my new assistant, Krista.  Lovely girl.  She’ll see to your every need!”
With that, he got in his Mercedes and left.
 

 “Krista!”

“Paul!”

“Forgive me, my darling, but I had to come!”

And never had the agent said a truer word, as Krista fulfilled Paul’s every need in that unassuming little conservatory.

And later, both drained and sated with love, they talked and talked until the sun went down.

Something made them turn round, to see Marjorie sitting there calmly.  She didn’t seem upset her bete noir was in the house.  It was almost like she was expecting her.

 Krista, embarassed and shaken, went off to “freshen up”, leaving the two of them alone.

“I’m keeping the house, Paul.  That’s the one thing I demand for Lavinia and myself.”
“My darling,” Paul replied, “of course you are.  And I’m not going anywhere.  Krista is moving in here!”

 “You see, Marjorie, I want a menage a trois !”

 Marjorie, ashen-faced,  rang for Mary to bring the Gin.
“I’ve always wanted two wives, my sweet.  Don’t you see?  I think it’s a topping idea, those Morons have absolutely got it right!”

“Mormons, Sir”

 And there stood Mary, Mrs Slagg and Lavinia (escaping from Christian Camp).
“We’ll soon get the bitch out of here, madam”, Mrs Slagg mumbled.

Paul knew then that it was more than Marjory they were taking on……

Will Paul ever get away with his outrageous demand, or will Marjorie’s “gang” get the better of the new lovers?  Don’t miss the gripping next installment..
Same time, same channel.  
Don’t touch that dial!!!