"THE GRAVEYARD CHRONICLES!": EPISODE 3: "Final Times."

"WHAT!....DEAD AGAIN?"

"Another message has come through from Tom and there appears to be rumblings of discontent in the cemetery and the living are causing some restless nights for the residents.

But Tom has made some new friends and Larde has fallen in lust (no, not love – Lust!) with a beautiful dead actress – It’s all happening on the other side of life!"

The Ghost Writer.

3: "FINAL TIMES."

Sorry for the delay in posting the latest blog - despite being dead, I've been quite busy and it's those entire living dickheads fault!

Larde, Norman and I have made friends with a couple of other spirits, and I must say, Maude Large (1858 - 1880) is something else - she was clearly stunning in life and she's certainly still worth a look, despite being dead for over a century, apparently she was a stage actress who specialised in playing dying heroine parts, like 'Juliet' in that famous play by old Bill Shakespeare (1564 -1616) and 'Lucrezia Borgia'(1480 - 1519) infamous for her parties, where it was safer to eat the art-work, rather than the food and wine.

I heard a rumour that Bill now works as a Door-man for Gandhi...

Maude had met her early demise at the hands of a jealous lover, William Canterbury (1852 - 1912), who fearing she was about to leave him for an Irish playwright, shot her - then overcome with guilt, grief and fear of the noose (they hanged murder's in those days) he shot himself - well, he tried and failed, he was shaking so much, that he only managed to shoot off his ear, the sight of more blood and a having really nasty pain in the head, he wisely fled the awful scene and returned to his young wife, telling her that he had suffered an accident whilst shaving and the pair lived happily ever after.

"MAUDE!"

Whilst Maude found herself interned in a wonderful small crypt, decorated with weeping angels and sad cherubs, quite beautiful really, and for a few years after her death, family members and admirers would place fresh flowers about her grave, and like the rest of the cemetery, it was maintained with great love and pride.

But, after almost 130 years since her passing, there are no more family members or theatrical admirers bringing flowers or remembering her with love.

The weeping angel’s condition would make you cry, the sad cherubs are just crumbling stonework, and weeds amass in dull green profusion about the weathered crypt and her name is unreadable – she's lost to the shadows of life.

I asked her what she felt about that.

“Yes, it's a bloody heap, but its home, it's all I have left, William took everything I was and would have been.” She smiled sadly and we never discussed the matter again.

But Maude is really something else, Larde really likes her - despite the fact she beats him about the head every time they meet and throws stones at him at every opportunity.

Larde just gives a big toothless grin and says "That is some woman, I'd really like to [unable to translate] her brains out and [unable to translate] in her ear, whilst [unable to translate] on a picture of the Pope.”

Whilst I think it's love on Larde's part - he actually offered her a swig from his tin of 'Tennant's Extra Strong Lager' which is simply unheard of - two people fainted with shock when they heard about it, but I think he's erotic, and frankly, perverted dreams will remain unfulfilled all the time Maude remains dead.

We met her on the old London Road, looking at some idiot sitting on a mile-stone, wearing fancy dress. A few yards away were several workmen, leaning on their shovels, watching several other people who were looking down the large hole the workman had just dug.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS A ROMAN WINE JAR DOING HERE?"

Maude had her arm about the stranger who appeared quite sad, in fact, the poor bugger was crying I think. Larde said "Bleeding no good [unable to translate] shit for brains, stinking [unable to translate] whale's bollocks with chips [that may not be a correct translation] dick head!"

He obviously felt the poor man's pain and was really feeling for him.

" I am being sarcastic there…….."

Tom.

Seeing Maude with her slender, perfect, beautiful arm about those heaving shoulders made something twitch in me - was it jealousy? I adjusted my trousers and we approached them, Norman went straight to her and she fussed over him - which the little shit just loves.

"You know dogs are not allowed here." Maude continued to fuss over Norman, ignoring the tearful wimp, who was clearly wearing Roman armour, "But he's just so cute, Oh, and this is Max, he's just been disturbed and this place has come as a bit of a shock."

"Tom." I said, "That's Norman, I really don't know how he got here, but everyone tells me he shouldn't be around."

She looked Larde up and down, and half smiled, almost curious: "And your other pet is?"

"That's Larde." I said simply - She nodded in agreement, as if she knew exactly who he was.

Larde was on all fours, attempting to lick her little white shoes and saying something even I wouldn't translate. A quick jab with her other shoe in his ribs ended that display of affection.

Mr. Boggle passed by, he too peered down the hole and then looking Max up and down, said “What the f**k!” Then grinning, he wandered off, lifting his hat to Maude.

Maude looked at me with a bemused smile on her pretty face: "Who the bogging hell was that?" I just shrugged my shoulders; "I haven't got a clue!" – As we watched Mr. Boggle disappear down the lane with that strange gait of his.

"MAX!"

Max had finished sobbing, wiped his tearful eyes and was looking about in a daze. "Where the hell am I?"

I knew immediately that Max was an idiot; he had sat in his jar for nearly two thousand years!

Apparently he thought it was safer to remain there and wait for someone to come and get him, you would have thought he would have got the message after the first bloody millennium! But he certainly had picked up the language in a short time - I was impressed.

But it took at least half an hour to explain the predicament he finds himself in, most of the time reassuring him that Larde didn't intend having him for lunch - he was only placated, when I made Larde open his horrific mouth and show that there were no teeth lurking in that awful dark orifice.

But the smell made him cry again.

I was curious, how the feck did a Roman soldier end up being buried so far north from Hadrian's Wall and in a bloody wine-jar? But I really wished I hadn’t enquired about the whole sordid story from Max.

Larde entitled it: “Packed [unable to translate] lunch!”

Well, the story Max told would have made Genghis Khan (1162 – 1227) or Vlad the Impaler (1431 – 1476) tremble, oops - sorry – laugh! I know that's quite insensitive, but it's true.

Just for your information, Vlad turned out just fine, he does a lot of voluntary work with the 'Eternally Damned' - that bunch of losers who can't enter Heaven or Hell and hang around School yards and Methodist Missions bemoaning their lot in this afterlife - strangely enough, there's a lot of TV Evangelists amongst the group.

"GENGHIS IS ALRIGHT BY US!"

"What about old Genghis, I hear you ask! - Well, he obviously curried favour with Big G because he was made an Angel - Second class, and now runs one of the other Afterlife's - it's not one of the big domains - but it's a steady job with good prospects and he gets a fair bit of respect from the Neanderthals."

Tom.

Maude glared at me and in a low voice (which was incredibly sexy) said "Tom, for a dead person, you’re a bogging jerk."

“Clearly, Maude is a shrewd judge of character!”

The Ghost Writer.

Sadly, I can't argue with that, but here's Max's story (It makes 'Ben Hur' sound like a story from a 'John & Jane' book) I have abbreviated it in parts otherwise my dear reader, you could easily have died of old age and be sitting here with us by the time he finishes.

"I NEVER SAW THAT LION COMING....."

Apparently, Maximus Asinum (64 - 89) was a door guard at the Coliseum, he and his friend, Claudius, would open and close these huge wooden doors after the poor bloody Christians, criminals and political enemies of the Emperor had just been served up as lunch to hungry lions - He had worked there for a couple of years and was due for promotion, he thought he would get the position of door guard on the toilets, whilst the company wasn't as exciting, they didn't try to eat you.

Well, it all changed one warm day, the arena guards had just driven in at spear point, the latest lion Smorgasbord, a collection of Christian's, Germanic pagan's, local criminals and a Senator who disagreed with the Emperor over sex with his wife (the Senator's that is....), anyway, in the group was a stunning young woman, a big Germanic girl with blond hair and really strong thighs - Max was in love, and we all know that love makes you do crazy things, and Max did something really crazy, he decided to rescue the fair maiden, even though it was a bit late, the lions had woken up and the lunch trumpet had been blown, the crowds were cheering and throwing excrement at those about to die and generally, everyone was having a good time.

Despite Claudius trying to hold him back, Max threw open the door and shouted to the girl "Quick! Run to me, I love you!" But sadly, the girl didn't understand Latin and just stood there with a stupid look on her face.

Max summed up what happened next in just six words, which I believe may be the understatement of the century, he said "I never saw that lion coming..........."

Claudius was a true friend and slammed the door shut, leaving Max, the maiden and her strong thighs, along with all the other poor sod’s, to their fate.

But filled with sadness and a little guilt, Claudius managed to recover what was left of Max after the show closed for the day, and fearing his superiors may be a little upset with him as well, stuffed the remains into an old wine jar and kept it under his bed.

Claudius was transferred from his easy post to Britannia, in fact to Hadrian's Wall - he took Max with him and here in the cold and lonely, snow swept outpost, he served as a Gate Guard.

But the guilt feelings about Max had taken its toll and Claudius took to drinking and in fact, he was so drunk one fateful day, he left the gate open.

"WHICH OF YOU PLONKERS LEFT THE BLOODY GATE OPEN?"

The locals, seeing an open invitation from their Roman guests, dubbed themselves with wode (a sort of make-up for real men) and hitching up their kilts, paid the sleeping Roman's a surprise visit. Well, poor Claudius met a horrible end, though he was so drunk, he thought the big Scot was his mother and embraced him, shouting out "Mummy! I'm so sorry about the chickens......"

The not so friendly Scot, outraged at being cuddled by a filthy Roman invader, ripped off Claudius's head with his bare hands, and then to add insult to fatal injury, pissed down the opening. But he did spot the wine jar under the bed as he removed Claudius's intestines with his knife, and securing his plunder in an old sack joined his colleagues for a victory celebration.

But other Roman's were arriving and that caused a disagreement between the two groups about who should run the country and it wasn’t about to be settled by a game of cards! Well, the argument ended in lots of blood being splashed about, with limbs and heads severed and ripped guts spilled all over.

A couple of ‘Collectors’ worked the crowds, shouting out the names of the bewildered newly dead.

It ended in a draw, by all accounts, after which the Scot’s went home.

The big fellow, who had survived several Roman attempts to send him here, decided to take a good long swig of the wine he had fought hard for. After vomiting for several hours, he knew Roman wine wasn't for him and wondered how those buggers drank the stuff without dropping dead - he certainly had a new respect for the visitors now.

Then he simply threw the wine jar into a ditch and moved on, disappearing into time, history and the local Tavern to wash the taste out of his mouth.

"REMEMBER - DON'T DRINK THE FUCKING WINE!"

The wine jar had lay unfound and covered with several layers of earth after all these years, until the local council dug the area up for a new sewer pipe and disturbed our Max, and he finally knew, that he had to vacate the bloody jar!

That's an outline of the story for you readers, but we had to sit through the whole thing and when Max had finished speaking, there was an embarrassing silence for a few seconds.

Maude looked quite sad at the tales end, and said simply, "What a bogging bummer."

Larde yawned and shook the sleep from himself, taking a big swig at his tin of larger, he muttered something which I didn't quite catch - But I think the word 'tosser' was apparent.

Norman lifted his leg and urinated over Max's sandaled feet and then wandered off, as dogs do. But the Archaeologist’s were quite excited over the 'find' – they had never encountered an Early Roman burial which utilised a Wine-jar and that it only contained a broken skull (chewed), one thigh bone (well chewed), seven fingers and one thumb, three ribs (slightly chewed) and half a pelvis.

Oh, and a lucky charm that he used to wear about his neck………

"AT LEAST THE LUCKY CHARM WASN'T CHEWED....."

It was even reported on local TV and newspapers, with an Artist's impression of the young man as he would have been in life. Strangely enough, they made him look an idiot with funny teeth and big ears – amazingly, spot on!

Now that's real talent....

The story would have ended there, and our involvement with Max too, but the archaeologist’s moved Max’s jar to the local Museum and it was exhibited in the Early Roman Section, and of course, he followed it, becoming one of the spirits about the place – and there was quite a few in residence.

But he upset several of the 'local' ghosts by boasting about how great Rome was, and how much good they could have done for Scotland – and if you know anything about the Scot’s (especially the dead one’s) you’ll appreciate how popular that was – like a rattlesnake in a lucky dip.

After getting a good kicking from the other spirits, Max wisely decided to find me and Larde, and hide from the local’s who were still looking for him – many were searching and obviously still quite angry, whatever he said must have been a cracker, because it included a couple of Buddhist’s and several Quakers!

We were to discover that Max has that effect on people, simply by being Max, but there's much more Graveyard Gossip around here!