At The End Of The Video, The Fucker Farted On...

’ ‘Wow, yes. That would be lovely, thanks.’ ‘I’ll pick you up at your flat at about seven tomorrow then.’ ——————————– I heard the feeble horn of the school’s dusty VW minibus and looked out of the window of my flat. Ian was waving up at me, so I grabbed my jacket and keys, and the bottle of wine I’d bought earlier, went downstairs and climbed in. ‘We live about half an hour away, on the coast. We were lucky – the owner of the school included this little villa in with the principal’s salary.’ Sure enough, we left the Athens sprawl behind us and eventually got onto a coast road that took us to a small scattering of white buildings which we passed as Ian took a hard turn onto a dirt track leading to a small headland with a single villa on it. He parked behind it and we went in through a kitchen door, where his wife was surrounded by plates of salads and bread and meats. ‘Peter, this is Anna, my wife. Anna, Peter.’ ‘Hello, Peter,’ she said, and kissed me on the cheek before I had a chance. Our loving embrace came to an abrupt halt just as I began squeezing her toned butt when loud, sinister strains of pipe organ music came from the rear of our abode."What's that?" She yelped, skittering away, my hand still wedged into her back pocket."I think it's Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor," I informed, proudly."Not the title, idiot! This isn't fucking 'Jeopardy!' Where is it coming from?"She still had so much to learn about terms of endearment as well as the basic rules of 'Jeopardy.' But, I too was mystified by the outburst and began a thorough search of the A-frame. I found no pipe organ, but I did find a powerful, high-quality speaker tucked away behind an extensive collection of Hammer Studio horror VHS tapes in a rear bedroom. Even a shamus like myself was stumped. I returned to share my investigation with my paramour, only to see her walking out the door."The rain has stopped and this place gives me the creeps, so I'm going fishing," she informed, wriggling her butt.
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