Ask the Ghost ~ 003

[Charlie the Ghost]

The skies darken, and there is an evident air of a presence that surrounds you. The birds and bugs cease to make a sound, and the very air itself becomes icy cold. The wind dies down, and everything is still... for a few moments. Then, there is a voice.

Hurr-hurr-hee. Never wears off.
BEW! Hurr-haa.
Gyoodjay, Foggehs! Wellc'm to this episode of Ask the Gewst!
I'm your brilliant host, CHAAHLEY the Gewst, and have I got a treat for the lot of ya today.

Checkin' me Proivut Messuges this week, I found this brilliant li''le treasure. Not so much a question as a bit of a note. Here, I'll read it.

Hiya Charlie!
I hope you are having fun haunting some poor human! Anyway I have a few questions from what you talked about last!
I want to hear the anecdotes about old Joey, and the one about the duck, and the codfish... and something about a--
Please!

Best regards,
Miss Dagger

Hallo Chaaley!
l 'ope yew ahh ravin' fun 'auntin' some poor yooman! Anyway I 'ave a few questions from wot yew tokked about last!
I wannu 'ear the anecdotes about old Joey, and the wun about the duck, and the codfish... and somethin' about a--
(That's what it says: "somethin' about a--" It's cos of that's what I said last episode. Can't remember wot it wos... I'll think of it.)
Playse! (And 'ere it's got a bit of an 'appy face on it.) Best regaahds... Miss Daggah.


Now isn't that just the bee's? So sweet, I can't turn her down. So! Let's get a spright in our step! That is, a spright in yourawll's step... I'd have a spright in me float, or me flutter, sort of lok a bedsheet in a breeze, is me. Where wos I...? Oh yes! Righty-o, time to share them antidotes! Wait... annik... anecdotes, yeah. Spot on, that.

Start with the one about old Joey then, shall I? Right, old Joey. Now old Joey's a bloody berk of a scientist, lives over on southeast Caligo, got a Grimmulkin. He's got a famous son wot builds engines, but the old git himself juss blows things up. I used to haunt 'im every other Tuesday. This'd be awlmost ten years ago. 'Ere's how the story goes.

It was a bloody dark night, second Tuesday of Febyury. I was off to old Joey's laboratry to make him bugger all on his way home. It's only a bit of a stroll down the lane, so normully he juss walks. Didn't see the old bloke that toime. There I is, wondrin' where old Joey's gotten 'imself off to, when I spots him comin' up the lane, up it to the laboratry from his house, stead o' the other way round. Doesn't see me yet, nor the Grimmulkin, so I goes off over the fence and into the trees. Wot's the old bugger up to, roight? So I sits there... er, yunnow, kinda floats... while he's sneakin' up carryin' a satchel in bofe his arms. I decoides to follow him up into the laboratry, but then he doesn't go in. So I thinks to meself, I thinks, "Wot's 'e playin' at, the ol' berk?"

"Bollox!" he says, "I've forgotten the bloody key."
I kinda snigger at him, but that's when I remember the laboratry wosn't supposed to be open that day in the first place. So at this point I'm even more curious, roight? Well, ol' Joey goes round the back and fiddles with the cellar lock. Opens it with a pen knoife and carries the satchel down with 'im, flips a light and gets to work. By the time I've snuck in through behoind him through the cellar, he's already got out a round metal wotsit and is fiddlin' on it with some tools. Can't resist. I come up real quiet like, blow on the back of his neck and yell "BEW!!!"

Nex' thing I know it's a week la'er and I've finally got back to bein' normul me instead of a spread out cloud o' me. Oddest thing ye can imagine. Apparuntly it was some sort of air bomb. Joey survoived, some'ow, though. And I learnt never to yell "BEW!" when an old berk is tinkerin' with stuff I don't know wossit. I let him off the hauntin' that week.


Whew, that was a bit of a tellin', wunnit? I'll stick round for a few days and tell the other stories as well. Hurr-hurr-hee.
Thanks for the lovally letter, Miss Dagger!

---

The voice remains, still but everpresent. The gentle breeze resumes softly, if hesitantly. The air remains like ice, but here and there a bug chirps or clicks... perhaps out of boredom, or is it anticipation? The shade over the sky hovers, silent, ominous, waiting....

[Charlie the Ghost]

Back again! Have you lot been goode li''le boys 'n' gels? Are you ready to hear the duck story? Brilliant!
(Hurr-hurr, I feels lok a childrun's telly show host.)

Right then. It awll started one brill day as I was makin' me way off round the bend of a motorway out in the wood country. Lo 'n' byold here comes a mallard duck waddlin' up the lane, gonna cross the motorway. Oddest bit was he stops in the centre and looks straight at me a-standin' there wotchin' him. Fella didn't know wot to make of a gewst, I'spose. After a few minutes o' this I start to worry about someone comin' up and runnin' over the poor thing.

"Bew!" I says. Duck juss kinda shifts his feathehs about lok he's got nothin' better to do. "Bew!" I says again, a well bit closer this time round. Nothin'. Doesn't even blink. Idunno if ducks can blink at awll, but... anyhow it doesn't. His li''le head juss twitches sideways and up a bit. At this point I've backed off a-ponderin', chin on me fist, wot this crazy duck's got in it's head. Juss keeps staring.

"Wellp," I says to meself, I says, "I cawn't push 'im ou' o' th' way... I cawn't scaare 'im off... I cawn't let the poor bugger get runned oveh... Bit of a puzzler, this one. I havvun't got any bread crumbs. I havvun't got a poker. I havvun't got a squeaky toy..." I haddun't the foggiest notion wot I's to do.

"Oi duck," I says. "Er, that is, Mawsteh Duck, meanin' yourself o'course, jolly li''le fluffy... lok a grand sort of... li''le thing." Aherm, I says. "I mean there's no cause standin' in the middle of the motorway like that is there? See? Jusst a gewst, is me. So er... woode jyou... mind awfully... playse? Bit of a hobble offa the cobbles, there's a good fellow?"

Ducky juss flaps its wings a coupla toimes, folds 'em up and woddles offa the way. Sigh of relief that was.
Juss goes to show: try the easy simple stuff firstly, cos it juss moight wurk.


Smashin' odd bit of a story, that, wot? Loike it, didja?
Stick around fur the next one, yeah? Righty-o, then! Hurr-hurr-hee.

[Charlie the Ghost]

Back again! 'Ello 'ello 'ello! I'spose you lot're half into an argy-bargy, waitin' for another tellin' from yours respeckfully. Ay? I thought a well stretch about the one'ch I've forgot, but no brandy I'm afraid. Can't recawll. That bein' that, it's on to the codfish!

Now most wouldn't think this straightaway, but I spends a champion amount of toime underwawteh, in the sea, below the waves, ou' in the ocean. Bein' out at sea is borin', but bein' under the sea, that's a right diffrent kettle of fish. Hurr-hurr-heeheehee!! Oi, that's rich. Ke''le of fish, indeed! Hurr-hurr... Anyways, out under the sea there's a whole bleedin' mess of diffrent things to take a gander at. Ye gotcher corals, ye gotcher seaweed... there's fish o'course... and... juss genrully a fascnatin' passtime. I try to get out there as regular like as I can, faffing about at sea. Wos on one o' these trips to the ocean where the codfish story comes in.

So there I is one summer afternoon, floatin' about under the sea, roight? And little did I know, there HE is as well, swimmin' about a mess o' coral. "Bew," I says, sorta quiet like, juss cos I like how it sounds underwawteh, awll echoey. Sud'nly, out of nowhere, I see this flash of guts in me face, awll black and red and right bloody awful, followed by a tail and a cloud o' tiny bubbles. "Whoa! Wo' wos tha'??" I says to meself. I move ou'o'th'way o' the bubbles to get a dekko at it.

It was a bloody codfish! A right blinkin' big bugger, too. Must've been almost two hundredweight... probally over ninety kilos! I sat there floatin' where I wos, wotchin' the huge bloke circle around. It was longer than I wos!

Now, most fish won't get too close to a gewst, but this one juss swims roight up twards me. "Wossee gettin' himself up to, the scaley rotter?" I thinks to meself. Swims straight at me face, opens his huge mouth got a row o' li''le sharp teeth goes right through me out the other soide. "Wot the bloody devil?" I says to meself. "Oi, BEW, ya bleedin' codfish!" Does it again, he does. "Wossee doin'?" The daft bugger, I figures it out, he's tryin' to eat me!

Well at this point I was laughin' up a 'urricane as this huge bugger takes pass after pass at me, tryin' to eat a gewst! I wos in fits, could barely stand to wotch anymore. "Heeee!!" I goes, me eyes squintin' so's I can hardly see. "'Ere 'e comes again! Come on, then, ol' bloke, you think you gotta-- WHOA HAHAHA HEEEE hurr-hurr," and so on it goes. Quoite a long toime the codfish doesn't get it. Finally I can't stand laughin' so much and I float on up twards the surface. Codfish follows me, o'course. I figure I'll juss go up on land and then see what he does. But nope. Yank! Codfish gets caught on a line.

I guess that doesn't have much of a moral to it, but... I juss thought it was 'ilarious. Codfish tries to eat a gewst! Hurr-hee! Oi. Heh, I'spose 'twere the codfish wot got a lesson taught 'im. Somethin's not wurkin', best stop before it all goes pear-shaped.


Wellp, that concloods this episode of Ask the Gewst! See you in about a week!
Ask me lots of questions! Juss send 'em to me Proivut Messuges inbox here at FOG.

See you 'ere an' about! Thanks for wotchin' the show!
Evenin', then! Cheerio and awll that, wot?

And tell awll yer friends,
Chaahley says BEW!!

---

The voice fades. Everything is still... for a few moments more. The gentle breeze resumes creating soft swirls in the unending mist. The air seems less icy, the bugs and birds seem to return as if there had never been a gap in their ambient whisperings. The shade over the sky rolls back. All is as it was. ...for now....

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