Geoffrey was the star turn at the ghastly 'Whingers Anonymous Club' last night. He came home at half past eight, waving his badge and absolutely full of himself.
'Tuppy! guess what? I was the star turn with my whinge 'Why oh why must people call Sandwiches Sangwidges'! They loved it! They loved ME! I'm getting a hamper and everything!' he enthused for the umpteenth time, twirling and pirouetting round the settee. 'Next week I'm going to whinge about people who call sandwiches sarnies. It's simply intolerable, isn't it Tuppy? Calling sandwiches sarnies. It should really be sannie, shouldn't it Tuppy? I'm right, aren't I Tuppy? They're going to love it - and ME - all over again! I can't wait!'
'THIS is intolerable Geoffrey. It's half past twelve in the afternoon and you're still raving on.
Neither of us has had a wink of sleep, and if you don't shut your pie-hole NOW, I'm going to be
forced to shut it for you. Now let that be an end to it.'
'An end to what? I'm entitled to enjoy my small successes. I've little enough in life to enjoy, Tuppy. I lead an impoverished existence.'
'Who sez that?'
'Val Nark. She said it.'
'When? You never mentioned it before, and it's definitely the kind of thing you WOULD mention,
under normal circumstances.'
But this wasn't 'normal circumstances'. Not by a long stretch. And we both knew it. I was still on a health kick, and Geoffrey had gone stark staring bonkers. I sighed heavily, and out of sheer habit, tapped my pipe against the chimney breast. Three spiders, a screwed up toffee Yoyo wrapper and a shred of tobacco fell out. I picked up the tobacco and sniffed it longingly.
'Where did that Yoyo wrapper come from?' asked Geoffrey, pausing in mid-pirouette and collapsing - FINALLY! - on the settee.
'It isn't mine.'
'Come off it! You've been eating chocolate biscuits on one of your five starvation days, haven't you?'
'Shut up Geoffrey, and use what's left of your pea-sized brain. They haven't made Yoyos since the 1980s.'
'Where did the wrapper come from then?'
'I don't know.' It was true. I didn't know. I picked up the screwed-up foil wrapper, and smoothed it out on my knee. 'Besides, what's a toffee Yoyo wrapper, compared to Val Nark telling you that you lead a so-called 'impoverished existence'? The total cow.'
'I know, she is isn't she. She said that last night at the Whingers Anonymous Club. But I shouldn't tell you that because if people know who attends it won't be Anonymous anymore. It's all meant to be hush-hush.'
'Nothing's hush-hush Hereabouts Geoffrey, as we know to our cost. All the neighbours have night vision binoculars and telescopes.'
'I know Tuppy. I'm glad I've told you now. I don't like Val. She always makes me feel bad about myself and I get a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I have to spend more than two seconds with her.'
'I feel the same Geoffrey. Luckily we never have to spend more than one, or indeed any seconds, with her. So the issue doesn't arise. It's a moot point or dead in the water or whatever. You know what I mean.'
'Oh I do Tuppy. Only - '
'What?' My heart sank.
'I've agreed to attend her Positive Body, Positive Mind class on a Friday morning, up in the yurts. In fact, I've signed us both up for it. It's only six pounds a week for the two of us Tuppy - we've to wear loose clothing and no shoes....' he babbled, backing away from me as I seized the poker and flung the Yoyo wrapper furiously into the fire....
Next time - the Yoyo wrapper mystery deepens, and there is an underpants crisis...