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Wednesday, 15 June 2011

The Finer Points of Social Etiquette

It's not my fault.

I didn't invite her.

She just turned up.


Auntie Twisted suddenly appeared on our doorstep last night, and promptly took control of our household.
This is the lady who is ex-British Army, and who retired with the rank of Colonel.  Those are the facts, all else is supposition.  Most ladies in the Army are in the WRAC, and are very good at serving canapes at parties, or running a typing pool, or even working the radio-telephones and at the same time, looking highly decorative. 

Auntie Twisted did does look decorative, but she is not really the canapes passing type, not unless you want said canape delivered at the rate of the explosive wave front of PE404 (The British version of C4 or Semtex).  It was rumoured she finished up as the 2ic of the SAS, acted as Prince Charles' senior bodyguard until she told him to "Straighten up and stop talking to bloody plants, Sir", was the only person, ever, to frighten Maggie Thatcher when she offered to take out the "Dagos" in Buenos Aries. 

It wasn't the bit about "taking out the Dagos" that frightened Maggie, in fact she was all for it, it was when she discovered that Auntie had already pre-positioned nukes in every major Argentine city, and most of those in Chile and Uruguay as well, "just in case" that she got twitchy.  Then she got twitchier when Auntie laughingly told her that all the nukes were ex-USSR jobs, "appropriated" from the Red Army's stocks in East Germany and were very 'dirty' devices with a known signature traceable to the USSR.  I think Maggie had a vision of Auntie starting WWIII when the yanks would think the "damn Russkies" had nuked South America.

A SADM container H-912 (Soviet "backpack nuke")

So this is the lady who turned up last night, escorted by two very large men, vaguely reminiscent of Andrew Hore (Hurricane's Hooker) but much more dangerous.  She invited herself to stay for a couple of days, and said to me "You still running that Bloggie thing nephew?" and when I admitted that indeed, I did occasionally write something for the net, she told me "Good, I've got some idea your 'friends' need straightening out when it comes to proper etiquette, so I'll tell 'em"

She then proceeded to empty my last two bottles of a 30 year old Laphroig ( I must admit I did help her a little), finished my beer and retired, reeling a little and farting quite musically as she wavered along the corridor to the guest rooms.

She has promised to publish "The Finer Points of Social Etiquette" for all my readers starting tomorrow.

There's a right way, and there's a wrong way. 

I just hope she doesn't stay for too long.  The last time she wanted to get Fflur married off to either one of my pupils, my son or Ringo.  If she finds out that Fflu's current 'fancyman' is planning on going to Aussie, he might just end up with two broken legs (Auntie NEVER does things by halves) and a missing kneecap.

Just hope.

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