Please read Chapter 3 here.
Chapter 4
Madam
You may not knowest me, but I certainly doth knowest thou. And before I go any further, may I say that you are naught but a wanton hussy of the lowest order. Not only do you string along men of great virtue, such as Lord Edmonds and the valiant Lord Dennis, but now you set your sights on my humble Clarence. Yes, I have pursued that fair man through the hardest of times and the softest of beds, and still he spurns me for you.
I remember the sweet day, so long ago now, when I first spied my Clarence. My girlfriends and I didst skip like the innocent schoolgirls we were to the magnificent pageantry of our local fair. As we trudged merrily through the mud, the heady aroma of tinned onions filling our nostrils, our eyes were drawn to the slab of manhood sternly guarding his ride. My friends could tell instantly from my expression that I was smitten, and we daringly decided to alight his splendid waltzers. Oh how he spun us, round and round, faster and faster, my head spinning out of control. Was this love? Or was it because we had drank too much Mad Dog 20/20? Who could tell, maybe it was both. All I knew is that I had to possess this man, this force of nature.
When I regained my composure I plucked up the courage to approach him. How he looked at me with complete disgust and disdain, sending shivers through my sodden undergarment. I offered him a blowy behind the burger van, his motives too pure to accept. He told me to ‘piss off’ and called me a ‘minger’, but I knew deep down that it was only his way of expressing his love for me. As he swung his ham hock of a fist forcibly into my cheek, I could feel the impact of his passion for me. I pretended to leave, but I ensconced myself within a vestibule (one of this frog bins that you used to get at the swimming baths), and waited for him. Yes, I saw him fingering one of my friends lay on an old tarpaulin behind the big wheel, but I could see by the glazed expression on his one good eye that he was thinking only of me.
This was fourteen long years ago now, and I have stalked him graciously ever since. I was there; hidden in a skip, on the fateful day when he gave up the fair to start his vegetable based empire. I was there when he first laid eyes on your miserable countenance, and I peeped through his bedroom window as he masturbated solemnly over you, a single tear in his eye. Could you show him such devotion? No (I’m answering for you). Would you intercept his mail and rifle through his bins every night? No. Would you make an effigy of him from the collected refuse and use it to frap yourself into oblivion night after night? Surely not.
You are not meant for a man like this. You do not deserve the spittle on his beard.
Leave us now before I am forced to do something I won’t regret.
Yours faithfully
Sandra P. Growbag
Managing Director
Sandra’s Fancy Cakes
Wedding cake a specialty – “Let us bake your dreams.”
To catch up with Chapters 1&2 please click here.
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Tears are literally (and literary) rolling down both my sets of cheeks. My heart and stomach turns at such events and i hold my breath for the next installment. Make that dreadful angel woman write the next part so i can feel good once more.
I understand chapter 5 is coming later today! I can hardly contain myself.
Will Sandra challenge Lady Sheds to a fight?
Will Clarence read the paper on the bog?
Will we meet any new characters?
Will anyone hang the washing out?
ah tis done!
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[...] Chapter 4 [...]