Banana Skin full story now ready its 20.10 uk time

This will be my next new story come back later when I've written it.
the time is 14.30pm uk time
maybe midnight I'll have it written, I have the outline in my head, it's just finding an hour to put it on paper. The idea came yesterday.
If you have seen Elf where the dwarf ideas pitcher comes along, then I am a bit like that, I have loads of ideas floating by.

see you all later.

Michael

Banana Skin ©

By

Michael Casey

Sandra Saunders was a great legal secretary, in fact she was called the Wind at the firm where she worked, because she typed so fast and she also had a flatulence problem, but only if she ate prawn sandwiches on rye. Sandra was the pride and joy of the senior partner, though he was always wise enough to ask did she have a good dinner. If she had had a prawn sandwich he always said that he felt rather warm and would she mind if he had the window open.

Sandra knew that he was saving her blushes so she loved him the more. There were many young pretenders who came and went over the years, but none could get within 30wpm behind her astronomically fast typing speed. The senior partner rewarded his treasure with cases of champagne left behind her fuchsia in her front garden, timed to arrive 5 mins before she got home.   

So the years rolled on and Sandra grew fat, and a bit windier, but the senior partner just opened the window more frequently. Sandra was 57 when tragedy struck, she slipped on a banana skin while she was collecting her prawn sandwich. She twisted her ankle and broke it, but that was not the worse of it all, ahead of her Peter the new wiz kid boy at the firm had ran to beat the traffic lights outside the firm while he was busy eating his daily banana. He got hit by a bus, the banana skin he had in his hand flew in the air and Sandra had slipped on it. In a way Peter had saved her life as she would have stepped into the road behind him otherwise. So a banana skin had saved her.

The senior partner knew something was wrong when Sandra was 90 seconds late, alarm bells rung in his head, he could see the commotion outside. So the senior partner ran outside. Death and disaster lay on the pavement. The senior partner could see that Peter was moments from death now so he held his hands and said the prayers from Jainism. Then taking off his jacket he folded it like a pillow and put it under Peter’s head. First aiders and police and ambulance arrived but all knew they were too late. Turning to Sandra the senior partner bent down and gently carried her home to their firm. It was only when he had put her down in the comfort of the first aid room that they both realised how bad she was. Otherwise it could have been a scene from an Officer and a Gentleman, the senior partner being Richard Gere.

As they waited for the ambulance to take her away they talked, Peter had in fact saved her life. The senior partner was such a gentle gentleman, and indeed he was. Not unless you met him in Court, then the opposition always had the flatulence problem. Sandra said she thought she’d retire early, seeing somebody die was such a shock for her, besides her Pension Pot was huge. The Senior Partner understood, so Sandra took 12 weeks off sick on full pay, as that’s how long a twist/break takes to heal. Of course flowers and champagne arrived once a week as well as an Ocado delivery of prawn sandwiches.

Sandra did come in to work but if she had to pass the scene of the tragedy every day it would have been too much. So she put all her things in a banker’s box and left. The senior partner did try another legal secretary but after, was it 20 years he missed his hot wind, his faster than the wind legal secretary. Then he had a brainwave. He could dictate and she could type and email it back to his personal office printer. She would still be at least 20wpm faster than even the best replacement. When the senior partner put it to her she was happy to oblige, she had to keep those fingers nimble after all. The firm installed a new private superfast wifi and Apple Mac PC to handle everything, and threw in a media bundle. Law firms look after their staff, but you will work 60 hours a week and have luggage full of papers after all. And no I am not joking, as this humble writer did once work for a major very hard working law firm.

So Sandra enjoyed her retirement with benefits, and in fact became quiet a film buff,for when she was not working exclusively for the senior partner down the line, she watched films. She started sending in film reviews to Mark Kermode and because she was persistent and the quality of her thought was like a legal brief she and Mark became good friends. They ended up discussing this and that and sometimes the other in all the latest films. He even took her under his wing and gave her tuition in film appreciation. Sandra was so good in fact that Mark K, as his friends called him, even dropped by for tea when he was in the area. They had prawn sandwiches and the irony was not lost on him, his name and her wind. But it’s an ill wind that blows no good, besides her stash of champagne was far better than any he’d had at a film festival.

Tragedy like History repeats itself, Mark K was due to watch a few films ready for his film review, when he slipped over a banana skin and twisted his ankle. Mark was in the Pooh, and he was due to meet this new big shot film star. As Mark K screamed as the doctor said does this hurt he remember Sandra and her banana skin, and he has a road to Damascus experience. Sandra would have to cover for him.

Sandra did not want to do it, but she did not want to leave Mark K in the Pooh. And that was how Sandra met Peter Perfect, the new hot film star. She saw his film and the stood in to interview him. He was going to show her the door when she stopped him dead in his tracks. She hadn’t worked for a senior partner for 20 years without learning the look and the voice. So she told him the story of Mark K and the banana skin, and her own accident and how Peter from the law firm had saved her by his death, and how he was a follower of Jainism.

She may have picked him up and bounced him off the four walls of the very expensive five star hotel suite. Peter Perfect was humbled, utterly humbled. So much so that he gave Sandra 2 hours worth of interview. Sandra was asked did she want to take a selfie, she said she didn’t have one of those modern cameras, besides only the girls from the law firm would want such things. So Peter Perfect jumped up from his seat and taking Sandra by her hand they walked down the road to Sandra’s law firm. Pandemonium and together they walked into the reception. The senior partner could hear the noise so he went to investigate, he was first in the queue for an autograph, his daughters just loved Peter Perfect. A senior partner has to make some very tough calls, but this one was easy.Tony ring the fire bell we need a fire drill don’t you think?

So the firm evacuated so that everybody could have time for selfies. Mark K’s big film review was the best ever, he said his Aunty had stood in for him, and that gave Sandra such a big thrill. As for Peter Perfect he stopped being a pain in the butt, and really did live up to his name. He started a new production company called Banana Skins, with the senior partner handling all his legal stuff. As for Sandra she wasn’t afraid of banana skins any more, in fact she had a secret email admirer called Banana Skins who sent her films galore via email from Hollywood.      

p.s. today I have tooth ache, just in time for my appointment with the dental hospital, I'm sure it's God's sense of humour.

a Bit of a Fright

A Bit of a Fright ©

By Michael Casey

They say a bit of a fright is good because it gets your pulse going and helps your heart and its circulation. We were watching Don’t Breath on the telly tonight, it was given 4 stars and I agree with it. Very scary and very violent with lots of twists, it was only out last year 2016. Some of it you will say was just too sick, but there is a happy ending of sorts, its a 15 I believe.

So tonight’s question is do you like Frights? The Labour Party here in England do not as they are not even debating Brexit which is the biggest thing in 50 years in the UK. But I’ll leave the political jokes to my heroes the Political Journalists, yes they are my heroes, I’ve been watching all this for 50 years, me and my dad and Robin Day.

So what frightens you? The gas bill and the electric bill frightens me, and they both came this week, the week our fridge gave up the ghost after 6 years,my story Fridge Family Casey explained it all. I don’t like surprises, as they are nearly always bad, or people think they are doing you a favour when you’d rather be left alone. Look what happened to Thomas a Becket, somebody thought they were doing Edward the Confessor a favour. It all ended nastily. Maybe that was the inspiration for the first slasher movie, or the Medieval equivalent.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail had the knight that was dismembered, and still fighting on. This is the stock in trade of horror movies, just when you think they are dead they blink and get up and attack you again. The creak on the stairs is always there, or just the buckets of blood, though my wife is more scared by the creaks on the stairs.

We all love to hide and jump out and frighten people, its what we all enjoy doing as children, parents pretend to be shocked and scared. I used to pretend to be dead and lie on the floor so when the kids came home I was dead. They in turn used to jump up and down on me, and pull my nasal hair to make sure I was really dead, or force open my eyelids, the usual kid stuff. Thankfully they never tried the rectal thermometer.

Now post unplanned quadruple heart bypass and with the state of my Arthur my arthritis I cannot pretend to be dead on the floor any more. Which in a way is sad as it means their childhood is ending and teenager attitudes are taking over, me I think you should always stay a child in your heart. It’s sheer coincidence that my big daughter wants be be a doctor, Pathologist is her target, at least you won’t kill anybody I say. My small daughter finished watching Don’t Breath with me, so I suggested she did a PhD in the Horror Genre, after she gets her degree. Something for her to aim for.

Imagine she’d be forever covered in popcorn as a result of all these films she’d see at the cinema, I wonder can you get a horror pass to get discount? Or if you say I’m doing a horrible PhD you get in free. I’ll have to find out for her.

As I said earlier we all enjoy pranking our friends. We had a roller cupboard in the office, 30 years ago and we said it would be funny  if somebody hid in it and then just reached out and grabbed somebody’s leg while the rollers were down. So Neil hid in it and we waited for the next Sunday shift to arrive. Only the temptation was too much for me, so I pressed the close button, and Neil was trapped inside the cupboard.

I should have pissed myself laughing but I was scared he’d be scared of being trapped in the semi dark inside the roller shuttered cupboard. In fact I kind of panicked. So he had to calm me down while he was still trapped inside. He got out in the end by kind of limbo dancing wriggling his way out of the bottom of the cupboard. He was very red faced after it. But I suppose it was his reward for once calling me a burnt out has been. I went on to write 13 more books and get married and have a Chinese Irish family. He got divorced and years later I’m sure the last time I saw him he was scavenging from a dustbin in Saint Philips Churchyard.

That is the worst kind of horror story there is, so thank your lucky stars for the nice life you have. But do look under your bed, just in case there is more than the pussy hiding there.   

From Airheads to PSB/Radio4 Heads a new story 23/9/2017

From Airheads to PSB/Radio4 Heads©

By

Michael Casey

I’m happy enough today, I returned to my own local church just in time to hear the Shona choir nip in and sing a song or two after their practice in the spare room outside the church. I smiled as a guy in front of me removed both his hearing aids as the choir and drums struck up. If you have never heard a Shona choir I think you should try and get to hear one. It really is something magical, it even brought a tear to my eye, though nobody would have seen my tears behind my shades.

Earlier in the day I nipped into the other church to give Molly my new story, Molly and the Flu. I also paid the gas bill and did some shopping, the normal day to day things, meanwhile the wife cut the grass. My Arthur my arthritis prevents me from being too physical, that and my surgery scars, if you brush slightly against my left breast I’ll scream and jump 2 feet into the air, even after 2.5 years. So now you know.

I just watched Airheads on tv and old film from 1994 with the guy from the Mummy in it, its about a rock band hijacking a rock radio station in an attempt to get airplay. I give it 6/10 but its worth a watch. So this set me thinking, how do speech radio people such as I, get their stuff on the radio.On PSB or BBC Radio4.

Over here we have BBC Radio4 which was a very big part of my life for 20 years, from ages of 8 to 28 perhaps, and a few years more. I have heard 100s or even 1000s of plays, and that was before I wrote a few of my own. I used to hang around theatres too, and I’ve watched 1000s of films. I have drunk beer in bars and seen live folk and jazz galore, just in case you think I’m too boringly intellectual. And yes I’ve read by the yard, though nowadays its online newspapers.

So that’s my background, as well as growing up in a large family which was larger still with alcoholic lodgers and a cat and a dog. And all in what you’d call Inner City Birmingham. I am a vacuum cleaner as I’ve said before, so I record everything and it goes into the soup then I ladle it out in a story.

So how do I get these stories on the radio? I even parodied my self http://michaelgcasey.typepad.com/files/127.i-want-to-be-a-radio-star-a-love-story-1.mp3 You can hear it if you follow the link.

Otherwise what do I do? I could stand outside the BBC in the rain reading stories like a performance artist. I could print off a few copies and sell them or hand them out outside supermarkets, but there would be too much competition from Big Issue sellers or our local beggars. I have no Allan Bennett to give me shelter, I don’t even own a van. So what can I do?

I can continue to write, aim for my next million words, try and reach the two million tally. I could add to my 207 recorded pieces of writing, that’s 11hours plus of air time. I could send photos of myself with food down my jumper to all the Radio 4 personal, would that work? Or do I have to pose with my hand supporting my chin. Isn’t the bouncer look good enough, looks should not matter anyway it is radio material after all. I do have a face for radio as Terry Wogan used to say.

I did once hand something in to a radio station, that did not work, though Bauer Media did like some jokes I left of FB or something years ago. And I did get loads of praise but no airtime from a variety of radio stations. So should I try harder? Could I ring in to all the late night radio programmes and banter away reading from my scripts over the phone. So I ad lib my way to their attention, between 2 and 5 am when real people are asleep.

I could take away their dictionary that would really hurt their feelings, I could hide the complete works of Shakespeare, and those desert island disks then they might give in and play some of my 207 recordings. And then I could record the rest of my writing, 1000 more short stories. I could even read my novel on the radio, all 600 pages of it.

Would any of this work? Would I have to offer my body in exchange for radio play? Would anybody want my much scarred body, complete with very hairy back? Would I have to sell my soul, my body just to get my stories on speech radio, or very late night commercial radio? Speech radio is run by very intellectual gay men, or middle aged women. So obviously none of them would lower themselves to have me, or rather my stories on the radio.

I can fantasise about being discovered with just a dictionary holding my lusts in check, but realistically that’s not going to happen. Its as likely as the seoul times having a story of mine on the front page for a week alongside a photo of a K Pop star. http://www.theseoultimes.com/ST/index.html 

K-Pop Saves the World

Though that is what has happened this very week. So the very week I have been pretty weak my spirits soar as have reach Korean shores.

If by any chance anybody with a love of radio does read this I am available as are my 1,000,000 words, perfect stocking filler material. Barry White is singing in the background, He cannot get Enough of my Love, I just wish Radio couldn’t get enough of my stories, Ed Sheeran cannot monopolise the radio forever. Could he not move over for a fat boy in shades, I mean Me not Barry White.

   

A Rainy Saturday something from 5 years ago to keep you going

A Rainy Saturday ©

By Michael Casey

It’s another rainy April day,  mum is out for the day so I’m left with the girls. So we can catch up with our films on the Sky+ box, we watch Charlie’s Angels together, it’s very funny with lots of tongue in cheek humour, one or two jokes for the grown ups too. We like the kung fu too, we are a Shanghai/Birmingham family after all.

My big daughter is mad for pencils, so she persuades me to order a propelling pencil set, she uses it to draw with too. When you have an artist in the family you have to have the right kind of pencil, the fact that she has 500 pens, pencils and crayons already does not matter, she must have the latest one. She was given 10 new pencils the other day by somebody we met while we were sheltering from the rain, but that was not what she needed, she always “needs”  the exact thing she wants. She is a great sketcher though.

As for her small sister, she was upstairs near her beloved dolls house, it now has two bright plastic chimneys, red and blue, old building blocks were added to make her dolls house more distinctive.  I shout up the stairs reminding her to read too, I ask what page she’s starting from so I can gauge if she is doing enough reading. She does 70 pages plus in a day, she’s a very fast reader. Now that she has mastered all her times tables I am a happy dad, the 8s were the hardest, I reminded her I was beaten by the teacher, so  I got mine right the 2^nd time he asked me, which was an incentive for her.

Piano practice was also part of the day, my big daughter can play a little, but she and her smaller sister need to practice practice practice.  The piano will be a good investment IF in the end they can both play, we did get a letter from my big daughter’s new secondary school offered music lessons and instrument lessons; we are lucky though because Betty from the choir gives them singing and music tuition, all this means is that they are better at the piano thanks to Betty. Perhaps I should nominate Betty for an OBE or something, along with the lollypop lady.

The girls have both retreated upstairs so they must be making stuff or drawing, I do know when to switch the tv off and to switch the computer off too, a balance between fun and creative arts is a must to my way of thinking. I don’t need Dr Spock’s book, didn’t he say he was wrong years later anyway?  I have to finish now, my big daughter says she wants to write a story. We’ll turn into a family of writers, now that would make all my dreams come true.

the final picture is where I'd to live if I won the lottery

https://michaelgcasey.tumblr.com to read a book in Polish

https://michaelgcasey.tumblr.com

I stumbled back to Tumblr and I have put a book in POLISH there for my Polish readers. It remains my copyright.