The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely

Against all my better judgement, I followed the foul-smelling, cider-swigging reprobate as he led us through the twisting back-streets and alley-ways of the city. I made sure that Botter, my man-servant, kept closely behind me, lest any more ruffians leapt from the shadows and tried to bugger me six ways to the Sudan. You might say he was maintaining a valiant rear-guard action.

“‘Ere we is, sir,” croaked the homeless wretch. “Our ‘ome sweet ‘ome, as it were.”

“I cannot help but notice we are in a scrap-yard,” I said, not helping but noticing that we were in a scrap-yard.

“Heh, yeah. I ‘spect it’s a bit more ‘umble than what you is used to,” the vagrant beamed, whilst mangling the English language. “Wait ‘ere, sir, an’ I’ll go an’ get the boss.”

“The boss?” I repeated. “How in the name of cock-suckery does a homeless swine like you have a boss?”

“Jus’ wait ‘ere,” the cove replied, and staggered off.

“What an awful and abhorrent chap,” I mused as I watched the filthy figure disappear behind a broken-down carriage. “I don’t suppose he is any relation of yours, is he Botter?”

“Very funny, milord,” Botter dead-panned.

We waited patiently until the foul creature returned, accompanied by an even fouler looking man who was wearing a suit that hung sadly off of his boney frame, as if it was yearning to be on someone less repellent; whilst atop his awful head sat an even-sadder looking bowler hat, seemingly held in place by a large knife sticking out of the top.

“Greetings, sirs!” he said, offering me his hand to shake, a request I declined. “Please, take a seat! Sit, sir, sit!”

I looked around at my surroundings, and found nothing that looked suitably worthy of my noble buttocks, so I gestured to Botter to make himself useful as a temporary chair. He rolled his eyes, and knelt down on all fours. I sat down on his back, and found him to be less comfortable than I had hoped. I would have to dock his pay for being an insubstantial seat.

“I am Kenneth the Hat,” the fellow began. “I got that name because I wear a hat,” he added triumphantly.

“And the knife?…” I asked.

“Oh, you saw that, did you?” Kenneth the Hat replied, gently tapping the blade. “I got into a bit of a scrap with a chef a few years back, when he caught me foraging for sausages in his kitchen. He plunged this flippin’ great knife in my head, and the doctor’s say they can’t take it out because it’s too close to my brain. One slip, one wrong move, and I become a drooling vegetable. Ha-HAH! Ha-HAHAHAHAHA!”

I wondered if it was not already too late.

“Anyway, you’ve met Flakey Jim, here,” Kenneth the Hat continued, indicating to the grimy chap who led us here. “Now, let me introduce you to the rest of the group!”

I shifted uncomfortably on my man-servant-shaped seat, as Kenneth the Hat produced two dustbin lids from a pile of junk, and loudly banged them together.

“VAGRANTS! ASSEMBLE!” he roared, somewhat over-theatrically.

There was a moment of silence, and then more stinking fiends began to emerge from their hiding places, stepping out from within broken wardrobes, squeezing out from underneath disused bath-tubs and sliding out from inside smashed-up grandfather clocks. They were like giant, human cockroaches in many ways, and each was more foul and pitiful than the last.

Sometimes the lengths I would go to in order to get some booze amazes even myself.

“Here they all are, sir! This here is Beardy McBeard,” he said, pointing to a man with a huge, dirty, black beard which seemed to have pigeons nesting inside. “He has a beard,” Kenneth the Hat added unhelpfully.

“Beard.” Beardy McBeard agreed.

“And this is No-Legs Noreen,” Kenneth continued, indicating to a pitiful-looking hag who was, indeed, bereft of legs.

“I ‘as ghost legs!” she cried.

“For the millionth time, Noreen, there are no such things as ghost legs!” Kenneth turned to me. “You shall have to excuse her, sir, she’s a little bit daft. Ah-HAHAHAHAHAHA! Ah! That there’s Mr. Disease,” Kenneth rambled on, as an incredibly sickly-looking chap shuffled forward. “He has over one hundred different diseases. Impressive, eh?”

“Astonishingly so,” I mumbled, as Mr. Disease smiled weakly.

“And then we have this poor sod,” Kenneth the Hat said, introducing a man with a huge wart on his face. A wart so huge, in fact, it was his face. “This is Benson – “

“…Wart-Face?” I guessed.

“Why, yes! Have you two met, perchance?” Kenneth said, genuinely surprised.

“No,” I replied. “I would have remembered such an encounter. I never forget a face, and his face is considerably less forgettable than most.”

“Oh. Well, that’s us, anyway! Now maybe you can tell us a bit about – “

“KENNETH!” yelled Flakey Jim, waving his arms about with such ferocity he dislodged numerous flakes of skin in the process . “Jennifer’s comin’!”

“Oh no!” wailed Kenneth the Hat. “Not Jennifer!”

“Who in the name of Saint Paul‘s sainted scrotum is this Jennifer?” I snapped, as the group of paupers became increasingly agitated.

“Oh, she’s AWFUL, sir!” moaned Kenneth the Hat. “Hideous. Such a foul, degenerate creature! She is horribly disgusting, sir, and incredibly freakish. In fact, she is so incredibly freakish we nick-named her Jennifer the Incredibly Freakish.”

“How very clever,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh, Lord! Here she comes!” screamed Kenneth the Hat, and then he ran for cover with the rest of his grotesque group, leaving me to face this monstrosity alone, save for my man-servant-stroke-seat.

I braced myself to have my eyeballs assaulted by this fresh display of degradation, but as Jennifer the Incredibly Freakish appeared at the gates to the scrap-yard, I saw that she was anything but incredibly freakish.

She was just incredible.

Jennifer, the Incredibly Freakish.

So bowled over by her radiant beauty was I, that I quite literally fell off of my chair.

“Blimey, what a cracking bit of crumpet, eh milord?” my chair observed.

I had to agree. Things were definitely looking up.

And by ‘things’ I mean ‘my penis’.

- Lord Likely.

Next Time in The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely: Lord Likely gets incredibly freakish with Jennifer the Incredibly Freakish.

A Terribly Important Announcement! His lordship has very kindly decided to let all of you join him in The Cock and Balls (his preferred drinking establishment) for light and heavy refreshments, chit-chat and barely-concealed flirting. Do the honourable thing, and visit the Cock and Ball Inn right NOW! Many thanks.

His lordship would like to take this opportunity to give his hardened, fully-engorged thanks to his loyal readers, for their continued support over the past year. His lordship is truly grateful, and wished that he could penetrate each and every one of you in return. Cheers!

Lord Likely Joins The Carnival! The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely is one of the many humourous web-logs to partake in The Humor Blog Carnival, currently being hosted by Mr. Kevin over at Pointless Banter. As well as his lordship’s fine work, there are also links to many other excellent web-logs, which you should jolly well visit right now. Hooray!