Chumf longed for Harri, like an elephant longs for candy floss, he missed her hair, her stale squeakers, he just missed her. That morning Freda, his latest flame broached the non sex action with Chumf as he brushed his teeth,
‘you know honey we have not done much bum bum lately, are you ok?.” Chumf stammered towards a reply,
‘yeah baby I am just crazy busy at work’ .
‘well could we maybe have a little fun now’.
Again caught on the spot Chumf tripped into a reply.
‘now is not great for me honey flaps, I need to get to work, plus my balls are howling’.
Freda’s moustache looked more daunting than ever to Chumf as he caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Chumf continued trying to soften the blow,
‘maybe we could meet in the bedroom, say Thursday night around 11, we can take it from there’.
A disappointed Freda nodded a sad nod and left the bathroom.
Like any true man would do, Chumf broke it off with Freda in what he saw as the fairest way….For Him, he waited till she went to work, packed his stuff, left a note and stole her hoover……….
’a cruise is what you would enjoy Mr Taylor’.
Chumf was open to suggestions from the travel agent.
‘a lot of lovely places to visit and nice people to meet. Would be ideal for you, and who knows?, you might find some romance’.
Chumf did not want romance, he wanted Harri, like a tiger wants equal opportunities.
he booked the cruise and went out and bought a new wardrobe, he needed clothes but this was a nice wardrobe, after that he got around to buying some new clothes, he purchased a pair of burgundy brothel creepers, a reversible Panama hat and a concrete cravat……
The first night on the cruise Chumf sat listening to the resident band “Strum jam” in the Medusa Ballroom, he was sipping on a Malaysian Meltdown cocktail, made up of dugbutter vermouth and cod liver oil, he was joined at the bar by a Jewish cat called Bryson, Chumf knew this by his introduction, “hi, I am a cat, my name is Bryson and I am Jewish’. The conversation ranged from sport to music, politics to pole dancing, then Bryson edged closer, he lowered his voice and leaned in towards Chumf, ‘I get the feeling I can trust you my friend, there is a special reason I am on this cruise’. For a dark frightening second he thought Bryson was going to suggest some jobby action so was hugely relieved when he continued…
‘I am here to slay the maritime slug’,
Chumf was stunned, this Jewish cat was clearly crazy. The Maritime slug was an old wive’s tale in the same vein as The Loch Ness monster, the abominable snowman and intelligent women. Chumf feigned interest, Bryson continued,
‘he rises from the depths once every fifty years, it is fifty years since he was last seen in this very ocean’.
Chumf was battle weary, he of all people knew that anything was possible, but this was not the Chumf of old, the years had scarred his will and enthusiasm, this combined with his current year long suspension from the force for on-duty ‘pigeon purging’ meant for Bryson that Chumf was the wrong ear at the wrong time for this star-crossed Cat adventurer.
‘look my friend, I wish you well in your search but I am just here to give my balls a well deserved rest’
‘this I understand my friend, but beware, once he rises he will capture 2 humans, one male and one female, the Slug will take them to his lair beneath the ocean where they will be pickled in ginger ale and slowly eaten piece by piece, limbs torn off whilst the other watches.'
Chumf said nothing, just finished his drink and motioned to move away from the bar area, Bryson pawed his arm to gain his attention again,
‘please take heed my friend, the captors are only chosen if they, like you, are non-believers in the maritime slug, keep your tit-wits about you’.
Chumf nodded politely, bid him farewell and slipped off to his cabin.
* * * * * * * * *
The anger had left Harri now, she was just hurting badly, her heart ached like Toblerone, ‘how could he?. Why did he?, whats the square root of an egg plant?.’. So many questions, so few answers. Playing dominoes with Blow up dolls whilst Harri was out was one thing but playing dominoes with blow up dolls wearing Harri’s red leather jump suit whilst she was out was something entirely different. Chumf’s excuses were lame and pitiful in Harri’s eyes,
‘look my little fluffcrab, it was just a moment of weakness, you were out at your Mothers and I was lonely.’
Harri’s shrink told her that this was a ‘cry for help’ from Chumf, Harri needed a holiday.
As she sat by the pool on the eighth deck of the ship she tried to push all these thoughts from her head, this cruise was a new beginning, a fresh start, her cruising companion was her friend Maxine, she was an albino denim Pig, Maxine could not stay in the sun so spent her day inside the ship knitting boxer shorts for Barry McGuigan, meanwhile Harri read her book and took in the rays, the previous night she had been hit on by many male admirers, most polite, some handsome, some sleazy, one elderly gentleman casually sat his withered nutsack on Harri’s shoulder as she sat in the polo piano bar, although appalled at first, the elderly man explained that in his country it was to compliment a woman’s beauty if you sat your scrotum on their shoulder. Despite the advances Harri looked for no suitor, if it was not Chumf then it was no one, but Chumf was gone from her life, washed away like terrorist’s pyjamas. Unbeknown to Harri, she was in for the biggest shock of her life…..
* * * * * * * * * *
The cabin was small in space but huge in terms of Chumf’s lonely heart, the previous night he dreamt of Harri, they ran through the meadow naked, Harri had a daisy-chain on her head, the smile that melted Chumf was was wider and more beautiful than ever, the tattoo of Hitler on her bum had never seemed so clear, her bush could have done with a trim but who was counting?. In the dream Chumf’s tallywhacker had never before seemed so proud or handsome, but this was just a dream, Chumf was awoken by the Captain’s morning announcement booming through the cabin speakers,
‘Good morning Sea-farers, today we are in Naples, the toilet of civilization…….’
Chumf stretched, squeezed out a triple fart to the tune of ‘Song sung blue’ by Neil Diamond and headed for the shower……..
Will fate bring Chumf and Harri together?
What part will Bryson play in this tale of treason?
Did you hum Song Sung Blue in your head?
Will you readers ever get a second part to this story?
All will(might)be revealed in the next part of Chumf and The Maritime Slug
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