The Wildebeest, the Lycanthrope and the Frenchman's Croft
by Glenn Muir
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: One strong one only.
Description: This is what happens when a convincing liar encounters a naïve dupe.
Swearwords: One strong one only.
Description: This is what happens when a convincing liar encounters a naïve dupe.
I have it on very good authority from my pal Gus that all the seemingly tall tales he comes up with are basically true. Now Gus has never been known to tell an untruth (unless he was winding up some gullible acquaintance or other). He was regaling listeners with tales about his mad and dysfunctional in-laws. “Billy Handbag,” he said, referring to his wife’s younger brother. “He’s as no richt as onie o’ them.” The no richtness o’ Billy Handbag was a matter of common knowledge in the toon. He certainly had the look o’ somebody that wisnae the full shilling. Below average height, skinny with a big square heid and a face like Herman Munster, he definitely wisnae a “looker”. On a trip tae Madam Tussaud’s in Blackpool twa teenage lassies ran awa frae him screaming, “It’s alive! Arrgh!”
“Whit’s he done noo?” somebody enquired. Gus’s cronies were well aware of Billy Handbag’s daftness and general gullibility. After all, Gus had told them of Billy’s previous misadventures. How Gus had persuaded him that a “gold” coin he had scraped off a Readers Digest prize draw envelope was in fact a valuable piece of treasure trove. To be fair, it did look authentic, with an inscription in French on both sides. “I telt him it wis frae a place ca’d The Frenchman’s Croft, daft bugger wis gaunie tak it tae get it valued, fud!” Then there was the incident involving the migrating wildebeest. Gus’s guid-faither kept racing pigeons, his loft was one of a dozen facing on to the public park with its swings and chutes and backing on to a steep embankment, a virtual escarpment of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ proportions. Gus had gulled Billy intae believing that millions of wildebeest crossed the park on their annual migration tae the Serengeti. This troubled Billy Handbag greatly, so much so that he broached the subject with his dad. “The folk’ll hae tae keep their bairns oot o’ the park Da,” Billy announced. Sid McGlashan looked up from the racing pages of The Daily Record. He was trying to concentrate on picking four horses for the “Lucky 15” that he was in the habit of placing every Saturday. He was not used to conversing with his only son. He had little time for him, I think this had something to do with the amount of time Billy spent wearing Marigold gloves and doing housework. Billy just did not do “macho”. “What are ye havering aboot?” Sid asked tersely. Billy, emboldened by the knowledge that something had to be done to avert a catastrophe, “The weans at the park in front o’ yer doocot, they’ll hae tae keep them in. The wildebeests might stampede an’ . . . ” “What? Hiv you been on drugs? Yer a fuckin eejit, awa ye go hame and tell it tae yer budgie!” “But Gus telt me they passed through the park on the way tae the Serengeti.” Sid McGlashan went back to reading the racing form, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. Billy went “awa hame tae his budgie”. Gus’s wife, Doris, got a bit off earache from Sid on account of this, Gus was telt tae stop the wind-ups or Sid would “Wildebeest him”.
“Whit has he done noo?” Gus smiled whilst continuing with his narrative. “Ye’ll mind that Ah telt ye how he is aywiss reading thon Weekly World News, aye that Yankee pish. Ye ken the yin wi’ stories aboot giant grasshoppers frae Mars an’ haunted hooses and the like. Billy believes aa that shite. Weel ye’ll mind that last weekend wis the 30th o’ April. Ah telt him that it wis Walpurgis Night (which it wis) and the full moon (which it wis). Ah explained tae him that this wis nicht o’ the Lycanthrope, the Wolfman or Werewolf (that bit Ah jist made up). He wis taking aa this in (as usual), my parting words tae him were a warning tae mind an’ keep his door locked. Apparently he phoned Sid in the middle o’ the nicht. Ah’m telling ye, Sid wis pure beelin’, had tae get in his car an’ drive tae Billy Handbag’s hoose an’ rescue him. He wis scared shitless, claimed that a strange wolf-like creature wis scratching at his door. Telt Sid that he thocht it wis a Lycanthrope. Jist imagine how that conversation went, surprised Sid didnae ask tae hae him sectioned. Mind you, Sid shouldnae moan aboot Billy being a fanny and believing everything he’s telt. When the family come back frae Florida yon time, aye, that wis the time Doris had tae sneak a diazepam intae Billy’s coffee tae get him on the plane, he wis scared shitless. He thocht that his heid wid explode because o’ the pressure at high altitude. Onieway, yin o’ the bairns had a stuffed Mickey Moose they’d bocht oot there. The wife’s sister, Senga, telt Sid that Mickey Mooses bocht at the Disney World Resort had magical properties. According tae her, if ye sat and watched it until midnicht, Mickey turns intae Jimminy Cricket and dances along singing ‘Give a Little Whistle’. ‘Me and the mither sat up tae three o’clock watching that Mickey Moose,’ Sid telt me. ‘Nothing happened.’ Silly auld bugger, he should hiv kenned better, Senga is yin o’ yon pathological liars, Sid kens as much, especially efter thon yarn she spun aboot some geezer climbing the drainpipe outside her hoose. Aye that’s richt, mind Ah telt yeez, she said he looked like the man on the porridge box. Come tae think o’ it, Senga and Doris used tae wind up Billy Handbag thirsels, when he wis at the skill, like. Telt him that he wis adopted and his real ma and pa were gaunie come and get him and tak him tae America. Fair upset he wis, greetin that he didnae want tae go tae the States. Sid got the guid-mither tae gi’e Doris and Senga a skelping for that yin. Mind ye he wis only young then. No long efter that they telt Billy that there wis a mysterious monster ca’d The Green Goolie wha came intae the hoose via a secret lift, but ye wid ken when he was aboot ‘cause ye could hear him draggin’ his goolies along the landing. Billy got a skelping for believing this story and Doris and Senga got yin for coming up wi’ the story. Onieway, Doris has telt me tae stop winding up Billy Handbag and Sid has telt me that the next time Billy needs rescuing frae Lycanthropes in the middle o’ the nicht Ah’ve tae mak masel available.”
There was general laughter amongst Gus’s coterie of chums. “Right boys, aa that blethering has gi’en me a drooth. Wha’s roond is it?”
“Whit’s he done noo?” somebody enquired. Gus’s cronies were well aware of Billy Handbag’s daftness and general gullibility. After all, Gus had told them of Billy’s previous misadventures. How Gus had persuaded him that a “gold” coin he had scraped off a Readers Digest prize draw envelope was in fact a valuable piece of treasure trove. To be fair, it did look authentic, with an inscription in French on both sides. “I telt him it wis frae a place ca’d The Frenchman’s Croft, daft bugger wis gaunie tak it tae get it valued, fud!” Then there was the incident involving the migrating wildebeest. Gus’s guid-faither kept racing pigeons, his loft was one of a dozen facing on to the public park with its swings and chutes and backing on to a steep embankment, a virtual escarpment of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ proportions. Gus had gulled Billy intae believing that millions of wildebeest crossed the park on their annual migration tae the Serengeti. This troubled Billy Handbag greatly, so much so that he broached the subject with his dad. “The folk’ll hae tae keep their bairns oot o’ the park Da,” Billy announced. Sid McGlashan looked up from the racing pages of The Daily Record. He was trying to concentrate on picking four horses for the “Lucky 15” that he was in the habit of placing every Saturday. He was not used to conversing with his only son. He had little time for him, I think this had something to do with the amount of time Billy spent wearing Marigold gloves and doing housework. Billy just did not do “macho”. “What are ye havering aboot?” Sid asked tersely. Billy, emboldened by the knowledge that something had to be done to avert a catastrophe, “The weans at the park in front o’ yer doocot, they’ll hae tae keep them in. The wildebeests might stampede an’ . . . ” “What? Hiv you been on drugs? Yer a fuckin eejit, awa ye go hame and tell it tae yer budgie!” “But Gus telt me they passed through the park on the way tae the Serengeti.” Sid McGlashan went back to reading the racing form, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. Billy went “awa hame tae his budgie”. Gus’s wife, Doris, got a bit off earache from Sid on account of this, Gus was telt tae stop the wind-ups or Sid would “Wildebeest him”.
“Whit has he done noo?” Gus smiled whilst continuing with his narrative. “Ye’ll mind that Ah telt ye how he is aywiss reading thon Weekly World News, aye that Yankee pish. Ye ken the yin wi’ stories aboot giant grasshoppers frae Mars an’ haunted hooses and the like. Billy believes aa that shite. Weel ye’ll mind that last weekend wis the 30th o’ April. Ah telt him that it wis Walpurgis Night (which it wis) and the full moon (which it wis). Ah explained tae him that this wis nicht o’ the Lycanthrope, the Wolfman or Werewolf (that bit Ah jist made up). He wis taking aa this in (as usual), my parting words tae him were a warning tae mind an’ keep his door locked. Apparently he phoned Sid in the middle o’ the nicht. Ah’m telling ye, Sid wis pure beelin’, had tae get in his car an’ drive tae Billy Handbag’s hoose an’ rescue him. He wis scared shitless, claimed that a strange wolf-like creature wis scratching at his door. Telt Sid that he thocht it wis a Lycanthrope. Jist imagine how that conversation went, surprised Sid didnae ask tae hae him sectioned. Mind you, Sid shouldnae moan aboot Billy being a fanny and believing everything he’s telt. When the family come back frae Florida yon time, aye, that wis the time Doris had tae sneak a diazepam intae Billy’s coffee tae get him on the plane, he wis scared shitless. He thocht that his heid wid explode because o’ the pressure at high altitude. Onieway, yin o’ the bairns had a stuffed Mickey Moose they’d bocht oot there. The wife’s sister, Senga, telt Sid that Mickey Mooses bocht at the Disney World Resort had magical properties. According tae her, if ye sat and watched it until midnicht, Mickey turns intae Jimminy Cricket and dances along singing ‘Give a Little Whistle’. ‘Me and the mither sat up tae three o’clock watching that Mickey Moose,’ Sid telt me. ‘Nothing happened.’ Silly auld bugger, he should hiv kenned better, Senga is yin o’ yon pathological liars, Sid kens as much, especially efter thon yarn she spun aboot some geezer climbing the drainpipe outside her hoose. Aye that’s richt, mind Ah telt yeez, she said he looked like the man on the porridge box. Come tae think o’ it, Senga and Doris used tae wind up Billy Handbag thirsels, when he wis at the skill, like. Telt him that he wis adopted and his real ma and pa were gaunie come and get him and tak him tae America. Fair upset he wis, greetin that he didnae want tae go tae the States. Sid got the guid-mither tae gi’e Doris and Senga a skelping for that yin. Mind ye he wis only young then. No long efter that they telt Billy that there wis a mysterious monster ca’d The Green Goolie wha came intae the hoose via a secret lift, but ye wid ken when he was aboot ‘cause ye could hear him draggin’ his goolies along the landing. Billy got a skelping for believing this story and Doris and Senga got yin for coming up wi’ the story. Onieway, Doris has telt me tae stop winding up Billy Handbag and Sid has telt me that the next time Billy needs rescuing frae Lycanthropes in the middle o’ the nicht Ah’ve tae mak masel available.”
There was general laughter amongst Gus’s coterie of chums. “Right boys, aa that blethering has gi’en me a drooth. Wha’s roond is it?”
About the Author
West Lothian-born Glenn Muir is a fiftysomething postman working in Linlithgow. Previously a member of the West Lothian Song Writers Group, he is now with Quill, a poetry and writing group based in Bathgate.