Bosom’s Bounty #writephoto

I’ve had a second go at this week’s #writephoto prompt here

The whole village turned out. Pollop on the Nadge had never seen the like. It was quite the thing even if more than a little disconcerting. The last to bed on the Friday, Dennis Pubes who always watered his mechanical gerbil last thing at night swore that there was nothing on the village green and despite his predilection for a bed time creme de menthe and maple syrup hot toddy, he assured one and all that he was clear headed. However when the preternaturally early riser, Petunia Epiglottis set out to walk her dog, Master Bates, named after her favourite cartoon character and not its love of pinstriped trouser legs, the village green was no longer empty.

Millicent Loin proffered the opinion that it was an act of ‘lefty vandalism’; Major-General Sandstorm Reticent thought it was a cunning device to secretly house asylum seekers under their noses; and Armand De Necque-Brace tried to convince one and all that it was a doorway to an underground bunker where illegal though strangely titillating experiments were being carried out on Mexicans.

It was the paperboy and part time cabbage painter, Dobble Double who voiced what became to be the accepted wisdom. ‘A time machine.’ His theory was based on an old photograph of the village taken after the celebrations for the victory in the Battle of Jenkin’s Ear It was agreed that a guard would be maintained day and night to ensure that whoever first used the time machine was properly welcomed in a traditional English village way: sticky cake, scalding tea that covered the drinker’s teeth in tannin and a free go on Mrs Rhomboid’s zesty tombola.

After three weeks with no sign of activity the local entrepreneur and kisser of frogs, Bosom Underwired approached the chair of the parochial parish council with a proposition: if no one was coming to Pollop, then Pollop needed to draw them in. ‘If we advertise we’ll get visitors, people who’ll use the shops, bring in money, fame, kudos…’

Several members were unsure. Visitors weren’t universally welcomed but few people could resist Bosom’s blandishments. It was easy to become enveloped in her enthusiasms which had been known to strain relationships and cause temporary deafness.

So it was that crowds began to flock to Pollop and camp around the now accepted time machine. That is until…

‘Hermione Athena, where have you put you doll’s house furniture?’ Number 24 Olympus Drive in the foothills of the gods’ domain and home to Atlas and Pallas Athena and their children Horace and Hermione was in a ferment. Pallas was cleaning in expectation of a visit from her uncle Zeus. While not fussy as a rule, if Uncle Zeus saw a mess he had a tendency to reduce it to smouldering rubble and she had just had her Valhalla decorated.

‘Mum… it’s all put away.’

‘So what’s that on Horace’s planet?’

Hermione and her mother peered at the hive of active around Pollop on the Nadge.

‘That’s the bandstand you second cousin Achilles gave you isn’t it?’

‘I didn’t put it there, Mum. Horace has been messing…’

‘Oh for pity’s sake,’ Athena smiled at the gawping multitudes who had frozen in a series of terrified poses as the God’s carefully manicured through huge hand reached down and plucked the bandstand from the centre of the village green. ‘Sorry, this shouldn’t have been put there. I’m sure the grass will grow back.’

She put the model bandstand in the toy box, making a mental note to ask Horace why his people seemed a little disappointed to see her. Normally the appearance of a god-person triggered an outburst of awe.

Meanwhile in Pollop, the denizens and visitors were struck dumb. Everyone that is except Bosom who happened to be recording the event and had captured the god’s intervention. One thought cascaded through her head as she played back the recording. Money.

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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16 Responses to Bosom’s Bounty #writephoto

  1. KL Caley says:

    Haha a second outing. You got me, I thought it was going to be a parish council fable. What a twist! Thank you again for participating in the #writephoto prompt with a second brilliant entry. KL ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Loved this Geoff……….. and your characters names had me chuckling out loud.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A masterpiece of naming, Geoff — and of fun. Hugs on the wing.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. George says:

    Worth it for the names alone, let alone the Olympian twist, although I’m now wondering about the peculiar delights of a zesty tombola.

    Liked by 1 person

    • TanGental says:

      Be careful when you next attend a village fete. The range of seductive and addictive tombolas is growing daily. One theory has tombolas as evidence that aliens created crop circles and that Prince Charles is actually proof that Adam was a haiku in human form and the Garden of Eden a polysyllabic mistake.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. JT Twissel says:

    Who indeed could resist Bosom’s blandishments!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. willowdot21 says:

    Lol, a wordy cornucopia of brilliant names and great story💜💜💜

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Pingback: #Writephoto Round-Up – BANDSTAND – New2Writing

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