stumbled over this

MY CHINESE Relatives and all the G20 crew might like it

the playboy is a Shanghai billionaire's son

who finds redemption in Old Forge and Singing Anvil

here in Birmingham and the Black Country

now read on

Its just a snippet, but Translation links for other stuff

The Priest and The Playboy

01/07/2019 ~ michaelgcasey ~ Edit

The Priest and The Playboy ©

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.

NOW THIS WILL BECOME PART OF THE FINALE OF Tears for a Butcher

I’ll try and finish this section of the jigsaw in the next few days. I have it all written in my head, but I don’t think I have it on paper anywhere.

The Priest and the Playboy bond and kick ass bigtime, and The Playboy learns to respect his father again. He even finds his one true love in Birmingham, of course she is Chinese too. There will be lots of Kung Fu action and so forth, if ever the Tale gets to be filmed. Shanghai Film Corp do get in touch and I’ll dictate the story to you.

so come back later and I’ll post it as FINISHED The Priest and The Playboy and also hello to Japan and Korea for passing by again. Everybody is welcome. Maybe you could both use my stories to help teach English via Comedy in both your countries.

ACTUALLY I HAVE WRITTEN A BIT MORE SO COME BACK AFTER YOU READ THIS AND WHEN i’VE EXPANDED ON IT ALL ANOTHER DAY

Chapter Ten Tears for Butcher

Chapter Ten Tears for a Butcher ©

Michael Casey

Big Sid had ambled into the Post Office he wanted to change for his till, so naturally he had stopped to talk to Mrs Murphy who was telling the world that June beside her was expecting a 2nd child. Sid held baby Sheila in his arms like a Saint Christopher and told her she’d soon have a playmate. It was while he was holding the infant that 3 armed men in motorbike helmets broke into the Post Office. But for that he would have immediately charged them like a raging bull, but he was holding the infant so he had to control himself.

The alarm rang, and Sgt Mulholland had coincidentally pulled up outside, so a siege ensued. Now I won’t give you all the details of the siege here, but Big Sid immediately made sure that his bulk was in between the 2 Mrs Murphys and the infant. Over his dead body would any harm come to them. And on the siege endured. It turned out the robbers were at the wrong Post Office. They should have been at the Hope Avenue Post Office, the very big one the other side of town. That’s what happens when you don’t know how to use a Sat Nav.

Big Sid’s friend the Professor from Birmingham Medical school had been leading a conference of surgeons, and Jake Powers an American surgeon had wanted to say Hi. He’d heard how the Professor had used Big Sid in a lecture and BQ and wanted to meet Big Sid in person. He was going to emulate the idea back home in Dallas, imitation is the sincerest form of flatter. Jake Powers was tall and lean and proudly wore his cowboy boots and hat, he was the son of a rancher after all.

So the Professor and the American happened to be at Big Sid’s butcher’s before Jake Powers would take old Michael’s taxi to the airport. There is no such thing as coincidence only the Will of God, and maybe Big Sid had friends in the Highest of places. The Professor waited and was told that Big Sid had gone to to the Post Office. Then the siege began. The Professor looked at his good friend, you don’t want to miss your flight do you? Jake Powers looked him in the eye, just in case, just in case I think I’ll stay. Besides I did not have time for a drink in the Trader. Jake Powers had never had alcohol in his life, so the Professor smiled.

The Professor whispered into his phone, the nearest hospital is Dudley Rd hospital, the one opposite Saint Patrick’s church. Can Blue team assemble this is not a drill, he looked up at Jake Powers, just in case. Just in case repeated Jake Powers. I better let my friends know I’ll not be on the plane home. So Jake Powers phoned his friends who had by now gathered around a tv at the Birmingham airport. Collectively they were Dallas’s best trauma and gunshot team. We understand they said, and where is the standby hospital? Dudley Rd, opposite Saint Patrick’s church.

In a nanosecond the team decided to heck with the flight we might be needed. However they were a full hour away from the hospital. So Dean Marvin a surgeon from Dallas stepped outside and whispered into the ear of a bored Policeman. And with that they boarded their coach and the coach driver was told by PC Jones to stay right up his arse. So with a Police escort a coach full of the world’s greatest surgeons were on their way to join Blue team. It was the first week on the job for Ken the coach driver, with a new coach firm who were desperate for work if only they could get some publicity.

Well God works in mysterious ways, Sky was covering the seige now, and their helicopter saw the coach right up PC Jones’ arse as instructed. The A team was on it’s was, let’s pray they are not needed.

Singing Anvil Coaches were all over Sky news, a free advert as Ken drove like a bat out of hell on his way to the hospital.

Everybody was calm at the siege. The robbers expected millions of pounds, but would get next to nothing at this Hope Post Office. Big Sid stayed positioned with his bulk protecting the women as the 3 bandits argued over whose fault it was. Then Fate or Ill Luck beckoned, Mrs Murphy was dying for the toilet, so she demanded they let them all out and then surrender to the Police and 10 years in jail. Shut Up you old bitch was their reply. Big Sid said they should not speak like that. Mrs Murphy fired back what are going to do, shoot the baby?

Yes, we’ll shoot the baby the trio of bandits replied. That was a red flag to Big Sid, nothing would ever ever ever hurt a child. So the raging bull was released. He was shot once but threw one straight out the Post Office window, then he charged the second and was shot a second time as he threw the 2nd bandit out the shop window. Big Sid looked back at the women. Are you all safe, YES they screamed in fear. Then Big Sid though by now bleeding heavily charged a 3rd time and got shot a 3rd time, but still managed to throw the 3rd bandit out. But that was not enough for Big Sid he staggered out the shattered front window and Body Slammed the pile of bandits. Is everybody safe he asked?

Jake Powers knew he had to save Big Sid’s life, he was the bravest man in the world, he had seen it with his own eyes. The Professor and Jake leapt into action, Big Sid was hauled into a waiting ambulance. Sgt Mullholland took the wheel, both ambulance men were needed to help the Professor and Jake Powers. Sgt Mullholland floored it, the junctions had already been blocked off as a precaution. Sgt Mulholland flew and I mean flew through Old Forge and Singing Anvil, down the Bearwood Rd, down Cape Hill and down the Dudley Road to the hospital.

And what of the three bandits, they were being savaged by hairy Amjit, the long haired alsacian. Nobody in the Police bothered to stop the dog, that’s if they dared. Finally hairy Amjit pissed on each one in turn. Then he picked up their guns one by one and left them at the feet of Roger the Traffic Warden who shook hairy Amjit’s extended paw.

Mrs Muphy knew what she had to do now, it was all her fault anyway, she should not have been so cheeky. But now her Rosary Beads were out in plain view. Michael get me to Saint Pats quick. With that old Michael the taxi driver floored it, he drove even faster that the Police, he had Saint Michael the Arch Angel behind him. At Saint Patricks Mrs Murphy walked to the very front of the church and kneeing against the altar rail she began another Rosary.

Mrs Murphy’s heart was breaking, Big Sid could die and it was all her fault. But she had her Rosary and Big Sid had the world’s greatest gun shot team there all tending to his wounds. So she started in 5th gear, no time to waste, she rattled through the Rosary. Outside a media scrum had begun. A slow news day had now become a very big news day. And on she prayed. Her prayers were not enough, she needed more Rosaries, then in her pain she had an idea.

She went outside the church next to the cross and asked Sky news could she say something. Sky news put her on live, this was by now a big big story. Can I ask for prayers for Big Sid? YES. Screamed the Sky reporter, and echoed the BBC reporters and ITN and more. So switching to French she asked for Rosaries, then in Spanish and in Italian. In 10 Languages she asked for Rosaries and said the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be in each of those languages. Whenever she was on Pilgrimage she learnt the Rosary in a new language. The reporters were amazed, a little of lady from Old Forge and Singing Anvil could speak all those languages. All she could say was the Rosary, but that was enough. It was the Virgin Mary’s Nuclear Weapon after all.

Now the shooting of a butcher by 3 armed men, who were disarmed by him became a big big story. Hairy Amjit savaging them and collecting the guns and leaving them at the foot of the traffic warden was shown worldwide. Now Mrs Murphy beseeching for players also went worldwide. The daughters of the rosary leapt into action worldwide. A cry from the womb could never be ignored. 24hour prayers were soon in action, thanks to time zones and Mrs Murphy’s language skills. She even knew Hindi.

Now while all this was unfolding a British Aristocrat and a Shanghai Billionaire were gambling, and who else but Smiling Paul was leading the entertainment. When Big Sid broke all over the news Smiling Paul screamed as if stabbed. The Aristocrat was livid too, his ancestors had provided the beef for King Henry’s Sirloin. As for the Shanghai Billionaire, when he heard Mrs Murphy beg for prayers not only in Mandarin but in Shanghai dialect he could not be moved. He was also a secret catholic.

Then as Smiling Paul howled like a wounded dog his wife comforted him. And then, and then the Shanghai Billionaire realised, Smiling Paul was The Lucky One, the man who was prepared to give everything to save the restaurant business of his Chinese friends. The silly looking one with the most beautiful of Chinese wives. Now at that moment the Shanghai billionaire swore Big Sid would be avenged, as did the English aristocrat. To upset one billionaire is a bad idea, but to upset two. And how could he help? Father Dan was in deepest China and Mrs Murphy’s broken heart asked for his return. So the Shanghai billionaire returned her priest, and asked his playboy son with his penthouse at the top of Pearl Tower to come to Old Forge and Singing Anvil too. And because of this coincidence his son would return to his father too. As I’ve said before there is no such thing as coincidences only the work of God. And that work would begin with Fr.Dan hearing the confession of the 3 bandits inside Winson Green Jail, I forgot to say Fr.Dan is Old School, but I won’t talk of bruises in a prison cell, he is a martial arts expert too, but what else do you expect of a Jesuit….