The Priest and the Playboy

this is what I've done the morning, now while I test the new toilet paper 

you can have a read, to be continued..

 

The Priest and The Playboy ©

By

Michael Casey

Mrs Murphy’s eyes were wild she just felt so much guilt, and all because she wanted the toilet, now Big Sid might die, it was all her fault, it had to be she was a Catholic after all. So again she went outside the church and asked could Father Dan come home, her eyes were beseeching. Just as a mother would beg for a stay of execution for her only son, now she wanted her Father Dan.

The Chinese Billionaire quietly asked a wounded Smiling Paul where might this Father Dan be. He’s in China somewhere up a mountainside somewhere, they are building a huge damn nearby, and he is building a new church higher up, away from where the damn will flood the land. The Chinese Billionaire looked at his host the English aristocrat, if he is in China then I will bring him home to her. Then he took his phone out and rang his friend in the Chinese ministry of development. Two minutes later all was arranged. The priest would be coming home. Ordinarily it might take days to get the priest to Shanghai Pudon airport but there was no time to waste. A way would be found.

Thanking his friend in China the Billionaire asked were his grandchildren still thinking of coming England to improve their English, he actually switched to English so the aristocrat could understand. I have a friend who could possibly teach them to ride and could arrange secure accommodation. The aristocrat smiled, so it was all arranged. With that the aristocrat reached for his phone, hello Zara how’s the big man, if you have any spare time would you be able to teach some friends to ride. So that was all arranged the Queen’s granddaughter would help with the riding lessons.

The aristocrat was still feeling angry regarding the shooting of Big Sid, the whole of England was. So he asked Spencer his manservant to fetch his Pearlys he’d have some target practice. As Spencer loaded the shotguns the aristocrat fired at targets another member of the staff flew into the air. Do you shoot asked the aristocrat? Unfortunately not with those kind of guns. As Spencer bent to pick up a dropped cartridge his own sidearm fell to the floor. The Billionaire picked it up, careful its loaded. The Billionaire smiled and disassembled it in under 30 seconds. Well it’s safe now, and as Spencer smiled in admiration the Billionaire reassembled it. Might I try as a target with this? And so he did. Yes he was just as skilled as the aristocrat. Spencer brought out more ammunition for the sidearm and the the aristocrat and the Billionaire has a good hour of stress relief. When you have 10,000 acres you won’t disturb your neighbours with all the banging.