Someone was up late last night, hmm?
The Good Lady plonked a coffee down on the table before me and I winced at the clatter.
Urrgh. Buurgh. Duurgh.
I replied sensibly.
I had stayed up late. The weather has been unseasonably good lately and I had decided to build a fire in the fire pit and have a couple
of respectable beers whilst gazing at the stars.
I am sure you had fun though, didn't you?
The Good Lady sat opposite me smiling happily at my hungover misery.
Um, yeah. It was fun.
I managed to get my brain to connect to my mouth properly this time.
Did you crack open the rum?
She looked at me brightly.
The rum? Um, erm. Maybe? I think I had one or two, possibly. It's a bit... ahem, blurry after a bit.
I furrowed my brow with the heavy thinking. Did I open the rum? My mouth tasted like an Irishman had shat in it, so yes, yes, the evidence was pointing to the rum.
What time did you come to bed at?
Asked the Good Lady sweetly.
Fuck?! I had no idea.
I looked at her blankly. I remembered it being about Midnight at one point and I remembered fire and laughing at my own incredible sense of humour for ages but that was about it.
You know, I got quite the disturbing WhatsApp message last night. Someone sent me something.
The Good Lady said pulling out her phone and looking quizzically at it.
Someone sent you what?
My brain was moving like mud and it throbbed painfully as it bobbed about in the brain-juice in my skull. Someone had sent her a message? Like the Mafia? Was there a horse's head in her bed?
Wait, not her bed. She said WhatsApp?
Yes, someone sent me a picture. It's really weird. I couldn't make it out and had to google it.
You had to Google a picture that someone sent you? What was it then?
My patience, like the Rum in the bottle I could see on the worktop behind her, was running perilously low.
It was a penis fish.
The Good Lady's grin was huge.
My mouth gaped open several times.
A... A penis fish...?
My mind boggled. What the fuck was a penis fish? And why the fuck was someone sending my Good Lady pictures of this fish?
What the fuck is a penis fish?
The Good Lady threw her head back and laughed heartily.
It's a type of fish that looks like a penis of course!
She fumbled with her phone and then passed it over to me.
Look!
She trilled.
I looked at the picture of the penis fish on her phone.
It wasn't a picture of a fish.
It was a picture of a penis.
A slightly grainy odd-angled picture of a penis. As if the person who took it was quite drunk on rum and beer.
Below the picture were the words.
A gift for you!
Despite not being a purveyor of penises, there was something quite familiar about this particular one.
Oh dear.
I said quietly. A vague memory of the rum-fueled night came back to me. The giggling. The picture-taking.
The sending of the fish via WhatsApp and the congratulatory high fives I gave myself.
Wouldn't it have been hilarious if the Little Lady had grabbed my phone this morning and saw that?
There was steel behind the Good Lady's laugh.
Um, no. Not really.
I mumbled.
No more penis fish, Daddy-Bear. Agreed?
The Good Lady prodded me with a boney finger.
I nodded.
Yes, sorry lass. No more penis fish. I promise.
The Good Lady laughed again and wafted off, no doubt to terrorise some other member of the family.
I glared accusingly at the almost empty bottle of Rum on the worktop and hissed at it.
This is all your fault?!