Smales and Swagger
‘A Hard Day’s Fondules’
Recap for the slow of study:
Penny and Gerald are a wealthy, elderly couple. They have recently been told by their GP and TV Personality, Doctor Hilary Portions, that an experimental and vigorous sex life will extend life in a fun and exciting way. They have been experimenting with bondage and aphrodisiac food stuffs. As you do.
It is morning in their luxury sex apartment and Gerald, who has acute hearing problems, is manacled to a revolving bed affair having found his breakfast bacon uncooked and fastened to his knob with elastic bands.
He demands his mistress go immediately to ‘Snout the Butchers’ and buy some more. And that he is released forthwith. He rattles his manacles irritably.
Gerald: Well? Hurry up and get this bacon off my cock. It’s starting to smell.
Penny: (flustered) Now, don’t rush me. I’ll have to cut the elastic bands with these scissors. Where are my glasses? I can’t see a thing without my glasses.
Gerald: Oh bugger.
Penny wields a pair of dangerous looking sewing scissors and reaches clumsily within the quilt that covers Gerald’s modesty. He rattles his manacled wrists in alarm squealing in pain periodically as she pokes and jabs around.
Gerald: Bloody hell, woman, watch what you’re doing.
Penny: I can’t help it, it’s gone all small.
Gerald: Well what did you expect?
Penny: Doctor Portions told me that the smell of raw pork in the morning would drive you wild and make you throb with ecstasy.
Gerald: What? Flog a chestnut tree? Bloody hell, watch me conkers!
Penny: (removing several rashers of stale meat in triumph then pointing at one) There. That’s got it. Oh look. This bit’s gone all crispy.
Gerald: (loudly) I don’t want to see it thank you very much. Get it away from my nose. Urgh. My knob feels all greasy now.
Penny: Don’t make such a fuss. These days you can get your skin cleaned by Japanese Doctor Kiss Fish. I saw it on morning TV. It’s very relaxing.
Gerald: I am not standing around for hours dangling my cock into a fish bowl full of piranhas. I have limits, you know.
Penny: (patiently) Yes, dear. Now I’ll just wrap these in some grease proof paper and I’ll get off.
Penny busies herself with wrapping the bacon into a parcel as Gerald strains to see what she’s doing, still prostrate on the bed. Humming in contentment, she goes back to the bed, puts her hand underneath the quilt, fishes about and removes an elastic band with a painful twang of rubber on flesh. This she uses to secure the parcel. She smiles, waves and moves towards the door.
Gerald: (alarmed and shaking the manacles) Wait! Haven’t you forgotten something?
Penny: Oh silly me. Where’s the key?
Gerald: Well I haven’t got it, have I?
Penny: Now I distinctly remember putting on the bedside table. No, I can’t see it. Did I put it under the flowerpot by the front door? You just stay there; I’ll be back from the butcher’s in a jiffy.
Gerald: You can’t just leave me here like this. Somebody might call.
Penny: Now you’re just being paranoid, Gerald. Why on earth would anybody come round here to our luxury sex apartment with you in a situation like that? It just won’t happen.
Gerald: (unconvinced) You think?
Penny pulls the giant lever by the bed. The whole thing swivels upon a dais, Thunderbirds style, to be ‘concealed’ and is replaced by a comfortable looking sofa, coffee table and chairs. We can still see Gerald, manacled to the bed, but now in the other room, hidden. Satisfied, she leaves through the door, stage left.
There is a short pause followed by a sharp rapping at the door. Gerald, uncertain if he has heard something twists and strains at his manacles. The door opens and Doctor Hilary Portions enters. He is dressed in a typical Doctor’s ‘uniform’, stethoscope, thermometer, black bag. He is pulling behind him an old fashioned tin bath tub covered with a tea towel and we can hear water slooshing around.
Portions: (uncertainly) Hello! Anybody home? Hello! Mrs Smales? Mr Swagger? It’s Doctor Portions! I’ve got something for you….
Doctor Portions leaves the tin bath and sits bemused on the sofa. He checks his watch, shakes it, then looks around the room, hearing a distant cry.
Gerald: (Muffled) Help! Help!
Portions listens, then smiles. It is clear he is familiar with the room’s mechanics. He walks over then pulls the lever, the dais swivels, sofa is replaced by bed and Gerald is once more ‘in the room’.
Gerald shakes his manacles angrily and sees the Portions and his tin bath.
Gerald: I blame you for this, Portions! Putting stupid ideas in Mrs Smales’ head. Extending my life indeed – this’ll be the death of me. Get me out of these manacles.
Portions: Oh how super! Bondage! I would if you’d tell me where the key is, Mr Swagger.
Gerald: (irritably) I don’t know where it is, do I? In the bloody flowerpot, under the carpet, up my arse – no, don’t you dare put your fingers up my arse, neither. What you got there?
Portions: This? Oh – I promised Mrs Smales I’d get her those Japanese Doctor Kiss Fish she’d been after. She asked me to pop them in this morning.
Gerald: (firmly) No.
Gerald: I am not popping it in, Portions.
Portions: Come now, Swagger, be brave. These highly trained kiss fish have come all the way from the orient with a taste for dirty and dead flesh. A nibble here, a chew there and you’ll be tiptop; fresh as a daisy, ready for Mrs Smales. We’ll try it together.
Gerald: No! Get away from me, you foul deviant!
Portions: You’re the one manacled to a revolving bed.
Doctor Portions whips the tea towel off the tin bath with a flourish as if expecting a fanfare. Ignoring Gerald’s frantic manacle rattling, he positions it on the bed so the lip of the bath preserves the modesty of the two men. With precision he puts on medical rubber gloves. He heaves Gerald up so that he kneels before the bath then removes tweezers from a pocket, using these to put Gerald’s organ into the water. We hear the sound of fish in a frantic feeding frenzy and Gerald winces, eyes closed.
He then opens one eye to observe Doctor Portions calmly unzip before dangling his dongle into the water alongside him.
Portions: (clearly in his element) There, you see? All that fuss about nothing.
Gerald: That’s because yours is considerably smaller than mine. They’ve got less to lunch on.
Portions: It’s the cold water.
Gerald: (pointedly) And you’re not manacled to the bed.
Portions: (spotting handcuffs dangling from the headboard) Well, we’ll soon sort that out, Swagger.
Without removing his knob, without thought but with skill, Doctor Portions manacles himself to the bed and looks triumphantly at Gerald. Now they are both helpless, exposed and dangling, side by side. Gerald can scarcely believe it.
Gerald: What did you do that for?
Portions: It is every doctor’s duty to put their patients at their ease, Swagger.
Gerald: But we’ve lost the keys!
Portions: Have we? What? You mean to these ones as well?
Gerald: Yes, you bloody knob.
Portions: Well what are we going to do?
Gerald looks down to the bottom of the tin bath. His face suddenly goes from worried to panic. He nudges Portions with his shoulder and nods at the bath frantically.
Gerald: Keep very, very still
Portions: What do you mean, Swagger, what do you mean?
Gerald: (almost whispering and statuesque) Where did you get these fish from?
Portions: Why, the market. They were going cheap.
Gerald: Which market?
Portions: Billingsgate Fish Market, of course.
Gerald: Don’t move it. Don’t even twitch it.
Portions: But why, man, why?
Gerald: Because, unless I’m very much mistaken that’s a conger eel in the corner down there.
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