Quiet room...

[Michael Palaeologus]

I'M A BLOODY RADISH NOW YOU INCOMPETENT!!

Stop this now, not funny. Put that salad cream down.

[dulwichmum]

"Come here you crunchy little devil!"

[Michael Palaeologus]

Dont you dare bite me, well, perhaps a little nibble .....

[dulwichmum]

"I was considering chopping you into little pieces, and boiling you in a stock pot sweetie, you really are terribly fresh - it seems a shame not to use you in a pie"

[Keef]

*Wonders when "The Quiet Room" will be turned in to a TV scetch show double act featuring it's 2 most frequent visitors*

*Goes in search of fat bastard who ate all the pies*

[dulwichmum]

*Jumps out from behind Japanese screen*

"I'm here darling, call me Bubbles"

[Michael Palaeologus]

Not Michael Jackson's chimp then?

[dulwichmum]

"No Sweetie, Bubbles de Vere - and I was joking. Shame on you..."

[citizenED]

*slips into Quiet Room, shirt tucked into pants*

*hmmmmm, comfortable*

*sits down with pint of porter*

*hmmmmm, that's better*

[dulwichmum]

*Leans over to offer a Garibaldi biscuit to CitizenEd...*

[citizenED]

*thankyou to D-mum*

*offers a flagon of porter in return*

*dunk a garibaldi in that*

*that should help you sleep*

[dulwichmum]

"OHMYGOD, that is the last time I shall drink Porter darling CitizenEd! I appear to have spent the night under my favourite armchair and woke up with a small pet licking my face."

[Michael Palaeologus]

*Hmm the old Porter with a meths chaser will always get you like that DM.*

*Takes charge of own life and tus back into usual form having gotten tired of being a radish*

*Oh, Radishes dont wear clothes. Grabs Batdog and places him infront of my manly parts (face outwards) and shuffles out of the room*

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

Will you be tucking Batdog into your pants a la grandad shirt?

[Michael Palaeologus]

*Only after I have done some work on his teeth with these pliers*

[dulwichmum]

*Commences cleaning out enormous handbag on coffee table next to armchair. Finds granade, removes peg and tosses it in Michaels direction*

[Michael Palaeologus]

*Less of the tossing DM, you are a Mother after all. Honestly, you really must learn the difference between a grenade and a pineapple*

*Settles down, in Batdog shaped loin cloth and nibbles on a slice of said fruit*

*Mmmmm num-nums*

[dulwichmum]

"I would answer that post if I could just stop laughing - I have very expensive mascara all down my cheeks. You are a one Michael!"

*Pushes big red button concealed in the arm rest of chair, and covers eyes as pineapple ignites in Michaels hand*

*Texts Ana to bring dust pan and brush*

[Michael Palaeologus]

*Leave me alone, as you know - I am a sick man*

*Actually, hang on - sore bum, lots of pineapple impregnated with explosive glycerine - is it surprising that I am experienced explosions at both ends?*

*You rat-bag DM, you have poisoned me, blown me up, turned me into a variety of legumes and in the past castrated me and slaughtered my lactating donkey. I only hope the lovely lady and her boy-friend who wish to move to the area do not read this*

*Good job Batdog took the full force of the explosions. Please have him back, no honestly .... I insist*

[dulwichmum]

"Ah Diddums - I apologise. let me mop your brow, I shall order you a glass of warm milk with pepper..."

[Michael Palaeologus]

*Will it sooth my posterior DulwichMum?*

[dulwichmum]

"God only knows after what you have been up to...sometimes one must simply pray for a miracle"

[Michael Palaeologus]

*A simple vaccum cleaner based prank gone a little wrong DM. Can happen to us all*

[dulwichmum]

"I am always here to help dear heart - this is going to hurt you much more than it will hurt me..."

 

[Michael Palaeologus]

*But which one is you and which one is Ana?*