Poor
Paranoid Palin: Part Two
By Jess P.
Michael shuts his
eyes and shakes his head back
and forth muttering,
"This can't be
happening…" at which point, there is silence.
With trepidation Michael slowly opens one eye. Nothing.
His other
eye follows suit to double check
the lack of Pythons. The first eye was right.
"Thank God, it was
all a dream" said Michael
as he sat up and reached for his comb.
"Here,
let me get that for you"
said a voice which Michael knew only too well.
Michael turned slowly, jaw on the floor as he saw John on a
chair pulled up to Michael's bedside, arm outstretched with comb
in
hand.
"How the hell did you
get in here?!"
sputtered Michael.
"What? You didn't
think I wouldn't make a
copy of your room key did you sweetpea?"
replied John with a sickly sweet smile.
Michael couldn't
believe his ears.
"Well…" Michael
eventually managed to
utter, "Does anyone else know about
this?"
"Course they know angelpie,
you know me, anything for a few quid in me
pocket!" John retorted with a cheeky wink.
Michael was
dumbfounded. "Right, that's it,
I'm going down to reception and
reporting you" Michael boomed as his face reddened.
John
laughed, Michael looked back
puzzled.
"Who
do you think cut them for me? I
couldn't go into any old locksmith and ask to
get a hotel room key cut, it had to be done from
the inside" John explained as he tapped the side of his nose
with
his finger.
"I think these things
through sweetie, you
should know that by now, we've been together
long enough." John added.
Had the whole world
gone insane? Michael shook
his head in the hope he was still dreaming. John giggled
quietly, "Oh I love it
when you
do that, your hair moves so beautifully, I could
carry on watching you forever" and
winked at Michael again. Michael was appalled and had
to get out of the room, get some fresh air and be alone.
"Would you mind
leaving while I
change" Michael ordered rather than asked.
"Oh, well, alright"
replied John as he
shuffled out of the room.
"And lock the door
behind you" Michael
added with a hint of smugness.
John
did just as Michael wanted and,
surprisingly, pushed the key under the door.
Michael unlocked and locked the door for himself.
Breathing a little
more easily, Michael wandered
to the wardrobe…
"Argh!!"
screamed Michael as he saw Graham and Jonesy hiding there.
"Morning
cutsie"
said Graham and Jonesy in sync.
"Sleep
well?" queried Jonesy.
"Course
he did" replied Graham
who turned to Michael and flashed a wink.
Michael
sputtered, spraying spittle on
Graham and Jonesy.
"Damn,
I wish I had a jar with me, I
could've collected some of that, gone back
to my lab and cloned my own Michael" quipped Graham, Jonesy
laughed while Michael stared back looking bamboozled.
"Now what will you be
wearing today?" Jonesy asked. Michael stared blankly
back.
"This looks nice,
blue is definitely your colour, munchkin"
said Graham
as he held up a shirt to Michael.
"Hmmm… it's a little
creased though"
argued Jonesy. "Eric! Plug the iron in will
you?"
"E…..ric?" Michael
sputtered, still in shock.
"Anything
for my buttercup"
twinkled Eric as he walked out of the bathroom.
"Alright then,
where's Gilly?"
Michael asked as he reddened again.
"Oh
he's having his hair cut, but
I'll let him know you called him `Gilly',
it'll make his day" replied Jonesy.
"Right, that's it!"
Michael shouted,
now coming to terms with it all, "Get
out!"
"But the iron's on
now" said Eric rather cheekily.
"I don't give a toss
about the bloody iron!
I'd rather just stay here all day safe in
the knowledge that you'll be out there so I want
your keys as well, come on, hand them over…" Michael boomed as
he held out his
visibly shaking hand.
"Tut
tut tut, you
shouldn't be making
a habit out of getting angry like this angel
drawers, it's not good for you" said Graham as he checked
Michael's heart rate on the wrist of the outstretched hand.
Michael flinched at
this contact but Graham held
his hand still, tapped it gently and
looked at Michael sincerely, "It's all right, I'm
a doctor."
"Tsk,
wish I was
a bloody doctor" Eric whispered to Jonesy who giggled
and nodded in agreement.
Michael stared at
each of them in fury as they
handed their keys over and left the
room. Michael slammed the door and double locked it.
Michael collapsed on the bed, still so angry with the others.
Some time later...
"Helloooo"
serenaded a voice from outside, Michael peered through
the curtains to see Jonesy in a pin striped suit. Eric
was also there with a gramophone and placed the needle on the
record
at which instance stripper music began to chime out. Eric grinned
cheekily as Jonesy peeled off his suit bit by bit to an astonished
Michael who blushed a deeper red with each
second.
John and
Gilliam were watching from the ground
and muttered to one another "I love
that shade of red" "Yes me too, I'm thinking of
doing my room
that colour…"
Jonesy finished his
piece left only with his
underwear and nipple tassels, which he twizzled
affectionately just for Michael. Praying
for something to
happen, a cleaning lady
appeared and began to chase Jonesy and the
others away with a broom. Michael sighed with relief as
the Pythons disappeared into the distance and the cries of
"You're a naughty boy" pierced the morning air. The lady returned
to the base of
Michael's window, Michael smiled
appreciatively until the lady took off her wig to
reveal Graham,
smiling back at Michael and in pepperpot
mode began to shriek, "Who's a pretty boy
then!"
Michael, now sick of
all this opened his window
and shouted at Graham, "piss off
Gray, you're not a bloody parrot!"
Graham,
positively hurt by Michael's outburst cries loudly "waaaah,
Mikey pie doesn't
wove me, waaaaah!"
Then, there is a
knock at the door. Michael
jumps at this but pulls himself together and
wanders over to see who's there.
"Mr Palin,
your breakfast, sir" said an unfamiliar voice. Michael opens
the door and takes the tray before shutting the door and double
locking it.
"But,
I didn't even order
breakfast" Michael mutters to himself as he
sits back on the bed. Nevertheless, it was his favourite,
crumpets and
marmalade so he tucked in. It
wasn't until halfway through when Michael
noticed a little card sticking out from under the
plate. He picked up the card and read, `To Mikey muffin, sorry
old chap, love Betty
Marsden." Suddenly the
crumpets didn't taste as good, but they were so
sweet, Michael finished up.
Michael now had to
put the tray in the corridor
for collection, which made him
extremely nervous. Slowly and quietly he unlocked the door
and opened it just enough to be able to poke his head out and
take
a look to the left. Nothing. He slowly
turned to the
right, but before he could manage to turn
all the
way a pair of hands grabbed him on each
side of his head and someone planted a kiss on his forehead.
Michael, once again in shock slowly looked up to see Jonesy
full of ecstasy.
"Heehee,
just
wait `til the others here about this!"
squeals
Jonesy, "And I even
have proof!"
Jonesy adds and points to Gilliam holding a
Polaroid camera. Michael drops the tray and slams the door.
Michael peers through the spy hole to see Jonesy skipping by,
Polaroid
in hand whilst Gilliam scurries through the remains of
Michael's breakfast.
Half
an hour later.
Michael hears some commotion from outside. Not daring
to think what it could be, Michael goes to the window and pulls
back the curtains. The Pythons are standing in a line whilst
Jonesy's
nude organist pipes out a tune. Eric steps forward and declares,
"I just wrote this now for our gorgeous Galahad, this one's
for you…"
#Sit on my face, and
tell me that you love me…#
Michael reels back in
shock, but still finds
himself watching with morbid curiosity as
the chorus ends,
#...Life can be fine
if we're both 69 if we sit
on our faces in all sorts of places and play `til
we're blown away…#
The Pythons take a
bow before turning round to
moon at Michael. Michael shuts the
curtains hurriedly and sits on the end of his bed. Soon
enough, Michael finds himself humming the tune, but stops as
soon
as he realises what he's doing.
`Perhaps the only way
to end it is to confront
it? Hiding only seems to make them worse…'
Michael played around with this thought until he
decided to bite the bullet. He went to his wardrobe, half expecting
to find a Python in there, and got changed. With a quick comb
through his hair he takes a deep breath and ventures through
the
threshold.
It was a good start,
the Pythons weren't lurking near his room. Michael
reached the top of the stairs and could hear the faint laughter
of the Pythons. Paranoid enough by now to think it was something
to do with him, Michael stormed downstairs
and
followed the
noise until he reached the hotel bar.
From the doorway Michael watched on as all the
Pythons, still in costume (and lack thereof) were
having a drink and chatting happily. Michael felt left out and
wandered
to the bar.
"Ok,
what's everyone having?"
Michael sighed.
The
Pythons dropped their banter and
turned to look at Michael.
"It's
alright Mike, I've just got
them in" said Gilliam. The other Pythons nodded
in agreement before turning back to the bar and continuing
with their chatter.
"Well, mind if I join
you?" Michael
asked timidly
"Sure,
I've got a seat saved for
you" replied Graham who gently patted the seat
next to him.
Michael plonked
himself down next to Graham and ordered a coke.
"Not
having a proper drink?"
queried Graham.
"Nah,
my mind's all over the place
as it is" Michael sighed.
"Well,
your choice" replied
Graham as he lit his pipe.
"How about a sing
song?" Eric enthused.
"So long as I
don't have to do any solos!" John retorted.
"Don't
worry we wouldn't let
you" Graham slipped in before taking another
puff from his pipe. John eyed Graham with mock hatred before
they
shared a laugh and got up to gather around the piano. Michael
was
left on his bar stool drinking his coke.
"Hang
on guys, I'm coming!"
Michael shouted across the room. The others ignored
him.
"Erm…bartender,
a
grappa for me please" Michael said loud enough for the
Pythons to hear.
"Hey,
that's the spirit!" said
Jonesy, "come on then, get yourself over
here."
Relieved
that the Pythons seemed to be
behaving themselves Michael paid for his
new drink and wandered to the piano.
Several
hours past.
By now nearly all the guests and hotel staff were
crowding the bar, ordering drink after drink as song after song
was
belted out. Michael was thoroughly enjoying himself, forgetting
completely
what had ensued that day.
"Time Gentlemen
please" shouted the
bartender. Everyone moaned but realised
they'd probably done quite enough damage to their ears for one
night and retired to their rooms. The Pythons by now were away
with
the fairies. Graham was thrilled about this and suggested a
night
time stroll, everyone merrily agreed.
As the Pythons
skipped out of the hotel and into
the bracing Scottish air Michael managed
to clear his
thoughts of all negativity and at last
felt to be connecting with his fellow Pythons once again.
Feeling positively silly, Michael decided to quiz, "So, what
is
it you all like about me then?"
The
Pythons pause and look at him.
"Gosh,
I wouldn't know where to
start" says Jonesy, "a good sense of humour
is one."
"Yes,
and you're such a nice guy as
well" adds John.
"And
you're very intelligent"
quips Eric.
"You
have a great way with
words" Gilliam includes
"Pretty
much all of the above"
concludes Graham as they all nod and continue to band
down the road.
Michael
is shocked, "I thought you
found me cute?" Michael whimpered.
"Well,
I suppose there's that
too" Eric replied.
"Don't
you find me sexy
anymore?" Michael asked, feeling dejected.
"When
did we ever say that,
muffin?" Graham fibbed, "I mean, we do, but
we never said it did we?"
"Oh
come on!" Michael
flustered, "you know you want me, so go on, you're
all mine!" said Michael as he leapt onto Gilliam's back.
"Leave
it out cupcake" Gilliam
moaned as he swept Michael off his back.
Michael
plonked
onto the floor and required the help of the others to
get him back on his feet.
"So
just then, you all touched me,
and you didn't feel like you wanted
me?" Michael continued to ask.
"Hmm,
perhaps it's the drink
talking, but I don't think we did, did we chaps?"
Eric quipped, the others shook their head, "Nope,
`fraid not old boy" added John.
"I've
had enough of this, I'm going
back to my room" sputtered Michael as he
staggered back towards the hotel.
"Oh
don't angel drawers" Graham
whined.
"No
sorry, I'm truly disappointed in
you all and would like to turn in. Good
night."
"Nighty-poos"
said the Pythons as Michael advanced back towards the hotel.
The
next morning.
Michael awoke to a thumping headache, and oddly felt
a little chilly. He reached for a blanket but grabbed what felt
like
an arm instead. Michael shrieked and sat up quickly.
"What?
What's happening?" Eric
groaned as he slowly sat up.
"Never
mind what's happening, where
the hell are we?" Michael ordered.
"Look around you and
you might get an
idea" John hinted as he rubbed his eyes.
Michael did just this
and found himself on a
beach towel. He shook his hair and sand fell
into his lap. The distant crashing of waves could
be heard.
"I
thought I went back to the
hotel?" Michael questioned.
"You
were about to, but we coaxed
you back, don't you remember anything that
happened last night?" asked Jonesy.
"Probably
best if you don't"
twinkled Gilliam.
"I, erm…what?"
Michael sputtered as he began to blush.
"Oh,
it's the sputtering again"
said Graham gleefully.
"And
the blushing, don't you just
love that?" John enthused.
"Not
as much as that windblown
hair" added Eric.
"And
the dimples" said Jonesy.
Michael recoiled and
hoped it was just a dream.
"Sure Michael, it's
all a dream…" said
the Pythons as they loomed in on Michael and
stared at him with great affection for yet another day…
The End (Or is it? ;)