The things that I remember

 

My Blog, Saturday, May 13, 2023

The “F” word mistery

It was a typical Friday afternoon at Bernie's Abbey, the most exclusive Gentleman's Club in Upper St Martin S Lane, Covent Garden, London. The rain was pouring outside, and the three members of the club, Lord Plush, Count of Vanella, and Sir Jagger, were sitting by the fireplace, sipping brandy and discussing the world's problems.

 

That night in February 1966, the gentlemen of Bernie's Abbey were gathered for their weekly meeting. Lord Plush, as usual, was regaling the group with tales of his grandeur and the glory days of the British Empire. The Count of Vanella, on the other hand, was more interested in his pipe and brandy margaritas, while Sir Jagger was busy tinkering with the ambient music system.

As the night wore on, the conversation turned to the recent phenomenon of pop music and The Beatles. Lord Plush was incensed at the very mention of their name, declaring them a “social aberration” and a sign of the decline of Western civilization. The Count of Vanella, meanwhile, was more interested in the humors expelled by the human body and had implemented a strict “non farting in here” policy in all rooms of the Club.

Sir Jagger, who had once been a rock star in his youth, was more open to the idea of pop music, and had even composed a few pieces himself. He argued that the Club should be more open to new forms of music but was met with resistance from Lord Plush.

As the night wore on, tensions began to rise. Lord Plush’s “ass apnea” condition was acting up, causing him to emit loud farting noises and interrupting his grandiose stories. The Count of Vanella was getting fed up with the noise and was about to make a scene when Sir Jagger suggested a solution.

He had developed a “farting DNA signature” system, whereby every member of the Club would provide a sample of their DNA to be kept in the Vault. If there was ever any doubt as to who was responsible for a rogue fart, the DNA signature could be used to identify the culprit.

As they were deep in conversation, a strange odor started to fill the room. Count of Vanella was the first to notice it and jumped to his feet, pointing at Sir Jagger. Lord Plush, who was known for his expressive personality, stood up, turned around 360 degrees, and plopped down yelling in derangement, "fart, fart, fart." Accusations started flying from one member to the other, and no one was willing to take the blame. The Butler was called in to perform the "FDNAS" protocol, which involved collecting DNA samples from each member to identify the culprit.

As the investigation was underway, the members started to recall the events of the previous day. It was then that they remembered Winston, the Club's 11-year-old Boxer dog, who had been in the kitchen the day before.

The Cook had been making cucumber sandwiches for the members, and as he was smashing hard-boiled eggs, Winston had walked in and hit the bowl with his tail, causing the eggs to smash all over the floor. The Cook had let Winston eat the dozen eggs and proceeded to boil a new set.

"Make sure you don't fall asleep in the main saloon, Winston. You don't want to 'nuke' the lords with your fumes," the Cook had said to Winston.

It all made sense now. The next day, Winston had taken a nap behind Lord Plush's elegant Club Chair, and his fumes had caused the odor that had filled the room.

The members of the club couldn't help but laugh at the situation. They had been blaming each other for something that was out of their control. Count of Vanella even suggested that they adopt Winston as the Club's official mascot.

From that day on, the members of Bernie's Abbey had a new rule. No dogs were allowed in the Club, and if they were, they had to be kept away from the main saloon.

As the rain continued to pour outside, the members of the club continued their conversation, sipping brandy and enjoying each other's company. They had learned a valuable lesson that day, that sometimes, things aren't always what they seem, and it's best to approach situations with an open mind and a sense of humor.

The Count of Vanella was impressed with Sir Jagger’s ingenuity, and Lord Plush reluctantly agreed to provide a sample of his DNA. With the issue resolved, the gentlemen of Bernie’s Abbey were able to continue their evening without any further interruptions.

As they left the Club that night, Lord Plush couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. He had always prided himself on his impeccable manners and aristocratic bearing, but now he was reduced to providing a sample of his DNA to prove his innocence in a farting scandal.

The Count of Vanella, on the other hand, was already dreaming of the next scientific experiment he could conduct on the human body, while Sir Jagger was already working on his next composition.

As they went their separate ways, the rain continued to fall on the streets of London, and the sound of Mendelssohn’s “garden in the Monastery” could be heard in the distance. For the gentlemen of Bernie’s Abbey, it was just another night in the exclusive club where anything was possible, and nothing was taboo.

It was a typical day for Winston, the 11-year-old Boxer dog who lived at Bernie's Abbey, the most exclusive Gentleman's Club in Upper St Martin S Lane, Covent Garden, London. He had been wandering around the club, looking for food, when he stumbled upon the kitchen. The Cook was busy making cucumber sandwiches for the members, and as he was smashing hard-boiled eggs, Winston had walked in and hit the bowl with his tail, causing the eggs to smash all over the floor.

The Cook had let Winston eat the dozen eggs and proceeded to boil a new set. Winston was thrilled. He loved eggs, and this was a real treat for him. As he ate, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He knew that dogs weren't allowed in the main saloon, but he couldn't resist the temptation of the eggs.

The next day, Winston was feeling a little sleepy. He had eaten too many eggs the day before, and his stomach was feeling a little queasy. He decided to take a nap behind Lord Plush's elegant Club Chair, where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed.

As he was dozing off, he let out a loud fart. He didn't mean to, but his stomach was feeling so full that he couldn't help it. He fell asleep, not realizing the trouble he had caused.

The next day, the members of the club were sitting by the fireplace, sipping brandy and discussing the world's problems when a strange odor started to fill the room. Count of Vanella was the first to notice it and jumped to his feet, pointing at Sir Jagger. Lord Plush, who was known for his expressive personality, stood up, turned around 360 degrees, and plopped down yelling in derangement, "fart, fart, fart."

The members of the club started to accuse each other, but Winston knew the truth. He had caused the odor, and he felt terrible about it. He didn't mean to cause any trouble, but he couldn't resist the temptation of the eggs.

As the members of the club continued to argue, Winston couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew that he had caused the trouble, and he wished he could take it all back. He decided to make amends and show the members of the club that he was sorry.

The next day, Winston brought a bouquet of flowers to the members of the club. He knew that flowers couldn't make up for what he had done, but he hoped that it would show them that he was sorry. The members of the club were surprised to see Winston with the flowers, but they couldn't help but smile.

From that day on, Winston was known as the Club's official mascot. He was no longer allowed in the main saloon, but he didn't mind. He was happy to be a part of the club, and he knew that he had learned a valuable lesson. Sometimes, it's best to resist temptation and do what's right, even if it's not easy.

 

We are not in Kansas anymore