Great British BBQ

katekelly

Well as our much loved Alan D'Lord has vacated his premises for the time being I thought we should keep the tradition alive of rambling (yet hopefully witty) stories of blood and guts and daring do!
So I will start and anyone who feels they would like to continue is more than welcome to enter into the fun, frolics and otherwise nuttiness.

It was one Sunny Bank Holiday Monday in Englands green and pleasant land (OK OK so it's piddling it down in the midlands but hey its a story we can say whatever we want!). Our Heroine Madame Chestycov surveyed her gardens with a self satisfied smile. Not a blade of grass was out of place. The flowers were in full bloom and the hot air heavy with the scent of honeysuckle and roses. "Today is the day" she thought (in a Russian accent) " when I can show my neighbours that I may be of Russian extraction but I know how to entertain with the good and the great of this country". Little did they know of Madame's full lineage ......

So there is the first paragraph who will take over the mantle now??...Simples squeak!!

mellman01

What she asks herself is the point of being The Moll of a Russian oligarch if I can’t let off a little, what is it the British say?, oh yes a little steam!(chuckle), so she saunters over to the solid gold role top desk pours a large Vodka and soda picks up the gold and diamond encrusted cordless phone and punches in a few numbers and put it to her ear, it rings no more than a few times then it’s answered, Hello Igor Mustavasheet, what can I do for you madam?, Igor she softly breaths into the mouth piece, I want to hold a party, I want the helicopter ready to go in 15 minutes, contact Al Fayed will you and tell him to open Harrods for me, I have some things I need to pickup.

valval

what will we need for this special party i wonder . chairs with cushions the guests will not stand tables to go with them 50 bottles so vodka oh better have some food what have you got.

lindalegs

....so Madam Chestycov breezed aboad the helicopter, Chihuahua under one arm and Sainsbury's carriers in her hand ready to raid Harrods and buy the 50 bottles of vodka, hos d'ouvres and a new sparkly little number for herself afterall she was belle of the BBQ

joanlawson

As she waited for the helicopter to land, she dreamily reflected on her life, and how things had changed since her early days in Russia. It was when she was on a train from Moscow to Vladivostok that she had first met Boris, her future husband.

''Ti takAya krasIvaya'', were his first words to her. ( You are so beautiful ) As they talked on the long journey, they realised that they were falling in love, and by the time they reached Vladivostok, Boris declared his love with the unforgettable words,''Moya lyubOv' slOvno ptItsa, katOraya gotOva vzvIt'sya vvyshinU'' ( My love is like a bird which is ready to zoom up into the sky )

How could she possibly resist such passion? ''LyublyU tebyA vsem sErtsem, vsEy dushOyu'' ( I love you with all my heart and soul ) she replied. She had married him and followed him to England, never questioning him about his work. But there was something mysterious about Boris which was puzzling her.

mellman01

Why did he always turn cold when she ask about his business, all she knew was he made his money from a privatised turnip collective which he said he turned into one of Russia’s finest bootleg vodka distilleries, OK there were problems with the locals going blind once in a while but that sort of thing happens when quality control is sacrificed for production.
It wasn’t that which upset her the most, it was the late evening flights, why did he always came back with large lead containers with funny little yellow and black signs on them, she was starting to wonder if he had anything to do with the poisonings amongst the Russian dissident?, probably not she thought he wouldn’t do anything like that would he?, best note to ask my little Dubceck .
So as she sat on the antique sofa and stroked her immaculately trimmed ****,
She slowly surveyed her latest Harrods shopping she wondered who she should invite, then she shouted out in pain, Dam that cat!, it always claws here when she tried to pet it, she didn’t like cats anyway it was a little present from Boris, dogs were diferent, they were loyal and easily manipulated just like the servants.

joanlawson

Putting her worries about Boris to the back of her mind, she wandered over to the Barbecue department. Suddenly, she became aware of a man who seemed to be taking more than a passing interest in charcoal. Their eyes met across the fixture, and she noticed how handsome he was, despite his missing eyebrows.

'' The name's Bland....... Gordon Bland'', he said. ''How can I help you?''

Against all her better judgement, Madame Chestycov felt an inexplicable attraction to this tall, dark, and handsome stranger.

''Just call me Olga'', she replied.

mellman01

Well just call me Dirk, His name?, his name was Dirk Wangler an MI5 agent code name spam Javelin, he was a rampant tireless womaniser, and due to this no one at HQ could figure out exactly how in hell he had managed to stay alive for so long?!, maybe the KGB were getting sloppy post cold war, if they could kill Litvinenko with Polonium Dirk was easy pickings!, maybe British condoms were bullet proof metaphorically speaking that is,

joanlawson

But Madame Chesycov ( Olga ) knew nothing of Dirk or the KBG. All she could think of was this handsome stranger who had appeared in her life.

''Gordon'', she said, '' How lovely to meet you. I'm holding a barbecue in my garden, and I need some assistance''.

''Well, I'm your man!'' he replied in his deep husky voice.

As Gordon helped her to choose barbecue accessories, her head was in a whirl. How could this be happening? She felt drawn to Gordon as if to a magnet, and she could not resist his charms.

joanlawson

It so happened that Olga's husband, Boris, was away at the time, visiting his turnip collective and vodka distilleries back in Russia. His work often took him away from home, and Olga was left alone at Castle Crumblesalot. This was not the life she had envisaged when she had married Boris, and she had become bored. The BBQ would provide a welcome distraction, and now she had the bonus of this handsome visitor, Gordon Bland.

She selected her favourite dress to wear, the one with a rather daring plunging neckline, and then she went back out into the garden to find Gordon. The other celebrity guests had begun to arrive. There was Elton, Cliff, and Simon C., not forgetting Alan D. Lord and Fat Kev, of course.

katekelly

Olga had had dealings with Alan D'Lord and Fat Kev on numerous occasions but no matter what the outcome of their meetings they would always hold a certain piece of her heart. As Gordon Bland oversaw the BBQ preparations Olga knew that Alan D'Lord and his brave and sometimes brutal sidekick Fat Kev would give her no peace unless she produced the delicacy for which they craved.
With a pounding heart Olga slipped into the vast kitchen. With so many staff about she could get to the object of desire without causing too much suspicion. Walking gracefully and casually she went past the serving wenches and barmen. Her head was swimming with all matter of thoughts 'What if someone has found my secret hiding place?' That was to horrible a thought to contemplate. With a shaking hand Olga turned the door knob to the disused cellar. She knew that the bare bulb at the top of the staircase did not work and so carefully she counted as she walked down the creaking staircase. "One, Two, Three, miss four, Five,Six". With one last step she felt the dusty floor under her Manolas (posh shoes for blokeys who don't know!). She reached out her beautifully manicured hand and felt for the candle and matches that she left there for such occasions. Trying hard not to drop the lighted match her hand shook violently. Did she hear something? Who was there? She realised the heavy breathing she could hear was her own. Laughing at her own silliness she lifted the lighted candle and hurried to the cupboard. She found the door was as she had left it .Good no one had found her stash. With one quick movement drawing a key from the folds in her skirt she knew that the prize was within her grasp. As the door swung open a cloud of billowing dust filled the air. After what seemed like an eternity the dust cleared and she could see the object of hers, Alan D'Lords and Fat Kevs desire. "oh my beauties I have missed you so much". Trying hard not to disturb the contents of the jar Olga removed the pickled eggs into the light and gazed upon their pearlescent flesh.....

joanlawson

These were the Seven Eggs of Destiny, discovered long ago by Lenny, the Chosen One.

It was said that they held the secrets of the universe, gave untold power and wealth to anyone possessing such an egg and cured male pattern baldness . These eggs were highly prized.

Olga knew that these eggs must never fall into the wrong hands, or it could mean the end of civilization as we know it. But as she looked lovingly at the seven eggs, many questions were unanswered in her mind.

Were Alan D. Lord and Fat Kev working as secret agents for Boris, her husband :?: Was Boris really all he seemed, or was he really an evil alien in disguise who would steal the eggs to gain contol of the universe :?: And who was Gordon Bland, this handsome stranger who seemed to have such power over Olga :?:

There was only one thing for it. Olga would have to call Lenny the Chosen One out of his retirement to come to her rescue.