On a moonless ,freezing night , an exhausted Beast gratefully snuggled beneath his (Pristine and fragrant ) duvet hoping for 8 solid hours of warm and peaceful slumber.
My hopes were soon dashed by the hellish insistent ringing of the bedside phone.
Was the house on fire ???
Had all Beasts relatives perished in a bizarre stewed apple related accident ???
Was this the long awaited call up to be the new Mr Madonna???
Sadly no , it was a bullish Mr C demanding I immediately cast the duvet aside , sprint to my Personal Computer , sign on to the purveyor of universal tat Ebay with all haste and order 50 squeaking rubber ducks.
All excuses and varied cursings and pleadings were brusquely brushed aside.
Cafe C required rubber ducks , the whole future of food related retailing in west Dorset depended on it and my feeble bleatings and general feckless shilly shallying were just typical , workshy , office lackey behaviour.Get a backbone etc etc
So eventually I capitulated , and stumbled off into the freezing dark .
Now The Beast's question to you is , what unusual requests have you fielded from beneath your duvet (This ought to be good).???
And did you comply ???
41 comments:
well my dog was hacking up a hairball the other night which got me up from mine...does that count?
I received the call to be Mr Madonna
I had to get up and look for the key. In the end I had to ring for the fire brigade, otherwise he'd still be chained to my bedpost.
Sx
inacabado
Rubber Ducky,
you're the one.
You make bedtime,
lots of fun.
Kermit the Frog
Any unusual requests fielded from beneath your duvet should definitely involve the implementation of rubber and rhyme with duck.
I was once roused by the somewhat insistent tone of knuckles on Front Door at 3am. Thinking that "this had better be f*#king important" I opened the door to find three policemen and their van before my door. In the van were four teenagers. The policemen were interested to know if I knew any of these delightful young people.
Much as I could hear my bed calling for my return, I was just a little curious to know why this information was so vital at 3am.
Turns out that the little buggers had decided that it would be fun to play on the trampoline in our back garden. A passing police van had noticed four airborne teenagers and decided that nabbing the gits was more fun than looking for lost dogs.
After a long hard stare I decided that I would admit to knowing one of them. All my instincts were to lie and let the f*#kers spend the night in the cells, but then the little voice in my head was screaming that I might have done that sort of thing once. I hate having a conscience.
Daisy said...
well my dog was hacking up a hairball the other night which got me up from mine...does that count?
It most certainly does Miss Daisy . Startling and messy . Excellent
Hardhouse said...
I received the call to be Mr Madonna
A ludricous claim Mr H , why would the wizened one turn down a prime peace of British Beef like what the Beast is
***wipes nose on sleeve***
scarlet-blue said...
I had to get up and look for the key. In the end I had to ring for the fire brigade, otherwise he'd still be chained to my bedpost.
a cautionary tale indeed Miss Scarlet . The Beast regards bondage as far to much messing about to be fun
Word Verification Code said...
inacabado
Quiet so Sir
Common Tater said...
Rubber Ducky,
you're the one.
You make bedtime,
lots of fun.
Kermit the Frog
Any unusual requests fielded from beneath your duvet should definitely involve the implementation of rubber and rhyme with duck.
I shall remember this next time I am wearing my rubber gloves and plucking a pheasant in the privacy of my own room Mr Coppens...or did you mean something else ???
Famulus said...
I was once roused by the somewhat insistent tone of knuckles on Front Door at 3am. Thinking that "this had better be f*#king important" I opened the door to find three policemen and their van before my door. In the van were four teenagers. The policemen were interested to know if I knew any of these delightful young people.
Much as I could hear my bed calling for my return, I was just a little curious to know why this information was so vital at 3am.
Turns out that the little buggers had decided that it would be fun to play on the trampoline in our back garden. A passing police van had noticed four airborne teenagers and decided that nabbing the gits was more fun than looking for lost dogs.
After a long hard stare I decided that I would admit to knowing one of them. All my instincts were to lie and let the f*#kers spend the night in the cells, but then the little voice in my head was screaming that I might have done that sort of thing once. I hate having a conscience.
Bloody teenagers , its all those raging hormones or so we are led to believe
I've never been beneath a duvet, Beast. I have been asked to be a duvet though. I gave the person who made the request a hot water bottle.
On a cold and stormy winters night Mr B , snuggling under an al enveloping duvet it is one of life great solitary pleasures , it ranks alongside a good bowel movement or self gratification(For Beastbites more impressionable readers please note it is unwise to practice all three at the same time , the only result would be self loathing and expensive laundry bills)
Prime Britsih Beef or rancid cow?
My actual strangest midnight request would probably be to assist in a teenage lesbian brawl in the street... Obviously I recorded the episode for straight friends. It destroyed their fantasies!
Other than the fire alarm at a hotel one night, I never get up when I'm comfy.
Oh, hardhouse, who doesn't enjoy watching lesbians beat each other off?
I am currently under my duvet and too knackered to answer.
I'll be back several hours from now.
Mr. Hardhouse, I'll be round to yours later too.
I can't keep up the pace.
Hardhouse said...
Prime Britsih Beef or rancid cow?
PRIME BEEF
My actual strangest midnight request would probably be to assist in a teenage lesbian brawl in the street... Obviously I recorded the episode for straight friends. It destroyed their fantasies!
Did they mistake you for a teenage Lesbian then Miss Hardhouse ???
eroswings said...
Other than the fire alarm at a hotel one night, I never get up when I'm comfy.
You dont have to get up Mr E , I am sure Miss MJ could think of a few Duvet requests that keep you laying flat on your back
Oh, hardhouse, who doesn't enjoy watching lesbians beat each other off?
Quiet so , Its better than watching America's got Talent
MJ said...
I am currently under my duvet and too knackered to answer.
What have you been up to then ????
I'll be back several hours from now.
We will just chat amongst ourselves Miss MJ
Mr. Hardhouse, I'll be round to yours later too.
Is that a threat or a promise ???
I can't keep up the pace.
Its old age creeping up on you....how is Old Knudsen....is this why your so tired ????
Tut. I'm doing comfort softener. flounces off in a huff of scarlet...
Sx
Missy Scarlet: Are you doing your duvet in cumfort softener? From underneath?
For some reason I have a mental image of you flouncing around wearing only a duvet now...
I'll hold onto it as long as I can... :-)
Sigh...
Thank you Fammy.. I take great cumfort from under my duvet. And occasionally on top of it.
Sx
Apologies. That was dreadful behaviour, but Mr Famuloose is incorrigible.
Sx
I am, I confess.
All I can say is that the combination of Mrs P, Mistress MJ and you, my dear Scarlet is too much. I should probably go into rehab, but well, it's difficult to explain to the nice nurses exactly what my problem is.
And then, of course, there is the problem of the nice nurses themselves...
You guys carry on , I am running about getting stuff ready for Cafe C's celebrated TANGO NITE
***sinister rattle of marraca's***
*sniffs supposedly pristine and fragrant duvet*
Ewwww!
Tango Night?
Are you sure it isn't Rubber Duck Homo Night at Cafe C?
Are you alright Mr Inkspot? I think it's time for your warm milk.
Sx
Tango Nite was a huge success , my cream cheese and smoked salmon roulade is the talk of Dorchester.
Mr C is scrubbing French Chalk off of his floors and moaning that the tight old gits were just drinking water instead of the Cafe C's near legendary Screaming Orgasms.
I had a screaming orgasm one my own in the kitchen , but thats another story :-)
No more cum jokes. I've had quite enough...
Sx
But what the hell, it's Filthy Friday...
Miss Scarlet , you have a filthy mind , we were having a cocktail conversation tsk tsk
Screaming orgasm?
You were pleasuring yourself into the cream cheese and smoked salmon roulade?
MJ: Is that in the book?
I am regularly summoned to prayer from my local minaret whilst snoozing... but I sleep under sheets of tripe not a duvet meself!
Quite right MJ, bananas no longer do it for him...
Better confiscate all the biscuits before he messes them up as well...
Sx
Miss MJ you too have a filthy mind , I was innocently sipping a cocktail in the privacy of the Cafe C Kitchen
Mr Famulus , Only Miss MJ can answer that I am afraid .
Mr Mutley , what is the tog rating of tripe ???
Miss Scarlet . While the Beast enjoys a post training health filled Banana , one rarely has biscuits in the house , but I do enjoy the odd hobnob
Oh... he means tabloid newspapers!!! Mutley's tripe that is. I've been worried about that all afternoon...
Sx
I think he actually means tripe Miss Scarlet , they are a strange lot in Bridport
Beast, if you won't do pix, we must have an audio of you down at the gym, right at the very end of your cardio and weights spectacular.
I was once asked to leave the comfort of bed and duvet because my room was actually 10m down the hallway. The lady whose bed I was in, wasn't best pleased as she was trying to make love to saxaphone player at the time,
Tisk, drink eh?
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