burbubble
Mrs. Spencer and the goat
Mrs. Spencer opens her velvet green purse and plays with some loose change.
Mrs. Spencer wants to buy a four wheel drive.
Mrs. Spencer can't drive.
That never stopped her before but that's another story.
Mrs. Spencer is depressed in herself.
Mrs. Spencer breaks into the piggy bank down the road and makes off with a very small fortune.
Mrs. Spencer is delighted with herself.
Mrs. Spencer is seen by a goat. The goat runs up to her and makes her an offer she can't refuse.
He offers her a choice of three vehicles, all cheap plus no word to the police about the piggy bank break in.
He offers her…
A hot air balloon, a tri-coloured tricycle and an alloy wheeled scooter with power steering.
Mrs. Spencer was horrified with this offer and felt a wee bit blackmailed.
“What I wanted was a fancy four wheel drive!” she roared.
“No problem, take them all out for a spin and we'll throw in a set of keys - free!” answered the goat.
“Free with what?” replied a red in the face Mrs. Spencer.
The goat shrugged his furry shoulders and threw his eyes up to the garage roof. They bounced off the ceiling and fell into his outstretched hoof. He popped them into his pocket and replaced them with better looking ones.
“I'm sure you will change your mind about buying a four wheel drive after you have tried out these babies.” said the goat, gleefully rubbing his hind hooves together.
“Sounds like a rip off to me .” said the big woman as she bounded off huffing and puffing to try out the new vehicle.
The Hot Air Balloon
The pink balloon was very hot and very airy.
It put Mrs. Spencer right off.
“Oh dear.” she gasped, “this will never do, it clashes awfully with my bonnet.”
The hot air balloon was almost insulted but as it was thick skinned it said nothing.
She climbed aboard. The balloon winked at the goat who was waving cheerfully at them.
Then the goat grinned to himself and tapped Mrs. Spencer's money, licked a hoof and turned the corner of each bill. Once satisfied he tucked the money into his green corduroy waistcoat pocket.
The balloon had only gone a few kilometres when it started to act up - act upside down that is!
“What the blazes.” screamed Mrs. Spencer as her tartan kilt flipped over and covered both her red head and bonnet, exposing an enormous pair of bloomers which, for a few minutes, blocked out the sun. Some local farmers are still blaming this incident for recent crop failures in the area.
Just then the blasted contraption flew headlong into the side of a cliff.
“Bless us and save us.” roared Mrs. Spencer as she slid awkwardly out of the bamboozled balloon and tumbled down. When she hit the craggy bottom she popped up her bonnet trashed head and declared to no one in particular. “Good sir, is that your dog peeing against the hedge.” Then she passed out and the balloon slumped over her.
She had been lying there for some time when at last a group of passersby spotted her and ran to her rescue. “Is she o.k.?” asked one, “She seems to be coming to.” answered another. “But what the blue blazes is this?”
In the hand of the concerned passerby was an eye!
Up shot old Mrs. Spencer's wobbly head.
“C'mere you, that's my eye you've got,” she shrieked.
Then she grabbed her eye and placed it carefully in her handbag.
Luckily enough it was her lazy eye so she wasn't too upset. So without much hesitation old one-eyed Mrs. Spencer set off back to the garage to try out vehicle number two.
The Tri-coloured Tricycle.
When Mrs. Spencer arrived at the garage the goat trotted out to meet her. The first sentence he uttered was.
“That'll be fifty euros more, please.”
“You must be kidding, I lost my eye and I almost lost my life in that trial run.”
The goat slid in real close to her ear. “Maybe we'll take a little trip down to the police station then, I happen to know who robbed the local piggy bank.”
“How did you find out?” began Mrs. Spencer but then she thought again and answered quietly, “o.k. here you are, and I'm sorry about the balloon but I still have to try out all three vehicles, deal?”
“Fair enough, it's a deal.” replied the goat.
The goat disappeared for point five of a second wheeling out what he thought was a classy old bone shaker. “It need's a bit of three in one oil but overall it's the best tricycle you'll get in these parts.”
“Is it really?” sneered a sceptical Mrs. Spencer.
She hopped on. Her bottom was a little big for the seat so she had to balance herself carefully. “This is only fit for a child.” she grumbled to herself.
The poor bicycle groaned under the weight of her then winked at the grinning goat and flew off down the road into a very dangerous neighbourhood. “This is altogether too fast for me.” came the distant voice of Mrs. Spencer to the ears of a happy but mean little goat as he shoved his ill gotten gains into his waistcoat pocket.
Well whatever way the tricycle was travelling it took a ferocious turn which sent Mrs. Spencer's leg cocking out to one side. A doberman pincher caught hold of her leg and ripped it right out of it's socket, just before the tricycle smashed itself and Mrs. Specser into a thorny rose bush.
Up popped Mrs. Spenser's shabby head smelling a freshly plucked rose.
“Well that takes the biscuit!” she roared, but she wasn't too upset over her leg as it was her old wooden leg and not the good one she kept for special occasions.
So with that the tri-coloured bicycle wobbled and Mrs. Spencer hobbled back to the garage.
The Alloy Wheeled Scooter with Power Steering
or simply,
The Scooter
“Where the hell is he,” growled Mrs. Spencer. Out skipped the goat.
“Well hello there Mrs. Spencer are you ready for your third and final test drive, oh and that'll be fifty euros more to pay for the damages to the tricycle.”
“Here you are and I'm more than ready for my final test drive,” retorted a calm Mrs. Spencer. Her one good eye twitched. “Bring it on.”
The goat was a little taken aback by her sudden calm acceptance of the situation but thought no more of it. He pushed out the giant wonder.
“All aboard,” cried the goat. “Well actually no, just yourself Mrs. Spencer.”
“Oh no, this time you're coming too,” she replied. She grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and held on to him as she jumped up onto the scooter. “Take it easy now won't you?” whispered the goat to the scooter. “I'm on board too.”
The scooter winked at no one in particular.
Mrs. Spencer had a great strong grip on the struggling goat. With her free hand she reached into her handbag, rummaged a bit and pulled out a stapler. She proceeded to staple him to the green leather seat of the scooter, then she rooted around a bit more in her handbag until she found some explosives. She strapped them keenly under the scooter with some sellotape.
As the scooter took off she jumped off, dived and rolled under the nearest tree.
The scooter shot straight into the garage doors.
The goat roared.
The garage exploded.
The money from the goat's waistcoat pocket flew around in flitters and floated to the ground. Mrs. Spencer got up and once more rummaged around in her handbag. She fished out the sellotape and set about sticking the bits of money together.
The police arrived, followed by the journalists.
As the police lead her away she had this to say to the story hungry journalists.
“I'd give another eye and my remaining leg to do all that again.”
Then she smiled for the cameras.
The end.
