Nocturnal
Pleasures

"Jack and the Beanhole" continued.....

ACT 5

Jack burst into the main room and found himself confronting a colossus of a
man. Jack was worried. 'Holy Cow, I don't think I'm gonna make it', he
thought.

"STOP RIGHT THERE", boomed the giant, "how dare you enter my house without
my permission. "I'll have you for breakfast."

Jack thought 'I bet you'll have more than that you fat git', but wisely
kept this to himself.

Bertha and Sandy then appeared at the door but looked on helplessly as Malt
Loaf grabbed Jack in an arm lock.

"I'm going to kill you", Malt said.

"Don't you want to sleep on it?" asked Jack, now so scared he was quite glad
he wasn't wearing trousers. The giant laughed and said,

"Oh no, it's now or never."

"Bloody hell", said Bertha, "He's not going to murder an Elvis song as well,
is he?"

Meanwhile things were looking bleak for Jack as Malt started his ritual.

"Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman."

Jack couldn't believe his ears. "Pardon? What did you say?"

"Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman." repeated the Giant.

Well Jack couldn't take it any longer, Lord he was crazed, and a feeling
came upon him like a tidal wave. He started swearing to his God and on his
mother's grave. With his free hand he picked up a handily placed Fender
guitar and started swinging it around.

"STOP!" Malt shouted, "what do you think you're doing? That's no way to
treat an expensive musical instrument."

Jack couldn't find fault in Malt's words, so he put down the guitar, picked
up a chair and smashed it into Malt's face, breaking his nose in the
process.

"No one calls me an Englishman and gets away with it", Jack snarled at the
Giant.

Malt Loaf collapsed in a heap (a big heap, obviously). He started moaning,
"My nose is broke. Who could believe that someone so small could break my
nose. Now I won't be able to record my new album next week. Knowing my luck
Cher will probably record it instead."

At this everyone cheered, with the exception of Sandy who fainted at the
very thought. Then the police arrived. The Sheriff got out of his car,
adjusted his uniform, which everyone thought didn't fit him anyway, and
entered the house. "Right what's going on here? I haven't heard this much
God awful noise since I went to see Phantom of the Opera last week."

"No worries Sheriff", said Sandy and she took the Sheriff by the arm and led
him away. "Say, do you have any vacancies for a deputy?"

With Malt's recording career in tatters everyone was happy and smiling until
Bertha spoke,

"How do we get out of here? We'll never be able to climb back up the hole."

Then suddenly the Bee Gees smiled again and before them appeared a beautiful
woman dressed in Virgin white, apart from a Bad for Good T-shirt.

"Who are you?", Bertha asked.

"I am Amy, The Land of Odd's Fairy Godmother."

Bertha looked to the Heavens and thanked God.


"No!", said Amy, reading Bertha's mind, "Not that kind of fairy."

"Oh", said Bertha despondently.

"How do we get home?", asked Jack, "We are stranded here."

"I will get you home now", Amy said calmly.

"Ah", Jack replied, "are you going to use all the magical powers at your
disposal to see us safely home?"

"No chance", said Amy, "I'll take you to the bus stop round the corner. I'm
keeping all my magical powers for my legshaker with the Wizard tonight."

At this she smiled the most wicked smile ever seen and disappeared.

Act 6

So it came to pass that Jack, Jackina, Bertha, Sandy and her new found love,
the Sheriff of Odd, arrived home just as Susan was returning from work.

"Hi mum", said Jack, "did you have a busy day?"

"Mmmmm mm mmm mmmm", replied Susan taking a mental note not to lick as many
envelopes just before going home. Finally Susan freed her tongue enough to
ask, "So what sort of day did you all have?"

"Well", said Jack, "We had adventure, violence, romance and a fairy thrown
in for good measure. In fact, just another normal day in the Land of Odd."

THE END .....?


* 1997 - Duff Promotions Ltd.

Any use of this text without the express permission of the author will
result in the lads paying a visit with their baseball bats, or alternatively
Susan reciting poetry to you.