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? ;)