The Jockeys Nostril

[Vlad]

......

Creak..creak (other scraping noises of an old key in an old door lock)
It was a cold unfriendly morning, raining, the type of rain that gets everywhere..grey and cold
The door eventually and under protest is forced open pushing a pile of mail, flyers, bills and eviction notices before it.

'The lights still work' he said....its light revealing cobwebs..dust..pigeon droppings and dirty pint glasses...and what seemed to be the corpse of a dead cat on the bar, 'I wish I hadn't bothered'  he muttered, trying not to breathe through his nose.

The pub was old and in a bad state of repair..paint and wallpaper peeling from the walls,
A coat of arms above the bar, full in view,
Well framed and glazed,
Upon the wall in colours blazed;
It beareth unpaid bar tabs upon the shield,
A chevron argent in the field,
With three closed wallets , and for the crest..a pint of cooking lager.  (With thanks to Longfellows Tales of a Wayside Inn)

The scroll reads, "By the name of Alan D Lord, purveyor of Fine Wines and Ales."
And over this, no longer bright,
Though glimmering with a latent light.
A picklejar, engraved ' The Last of the 7 Eggs of Destiny'

'This is going to take some bloody work, will it be worth it? he wondered.

A voice came from the now pulsating jar containing The Last of the 7 Eggs of Destiny, 'If you build it Vlad they will come'
'ahh, those were days' he muttered...(Flash back scene..in order to achieve the correct wobbly zig zag effects readers are asked to shake their heads violently for two minutes until their vision is affected, thank you)
There are few  alive today who know or can remember ( or even care) of  the tale of the Seven Great Eggs of Destiny. The tale of the Seven Eggs was first mentioned in the Epic of Gilgamesh and spoke that each of Seven Eggs of  Destiny were believed  to contain a truth, a truth so powerful that it would change the world. The last Egg...the One Egg The Seventh Egg,  the one Egg to bind them the One Egg to rule them all was now in a pickle jar behind the bar in the Jockeys Nostril...

Ok stop shaking your heads.


This had been the Jockeys Nostril....A WW2 pub used by fighter pilots during the Battle of Britain..sometimes gastro pub in the 1960's, restaurant and conference centre in the 80s ..a rest home for retired gentlefolk, a home for unwed mothers and migrant hotel....now abandoned.

' This is gonna need more than a wipe down with an oily rag' stated GrannyMac , disapprovingly ..her  merchant navy cap sat at a jaunty angle, her grizzled weather beaten face matching that of the stuffed and worn parrot on her shoulder, 'let's go below decks'...

The smell was physical..it invaded all the senses..blocked toilets, fermenting Watneys Red Barrel casks broken bottles of vintage carrot wine all adding to the ambience..we moved quickly past the dungeon, the sign, Palace of Pain did little to persuade us to tarry.
We returned to the bar..the corpse of the cat had disappeared, this was worrying.
'Top Deck? '
I nodded GrannyMac  still harked back to her time as a cabin girl  aboard Vlads Floating Garden (another tale coming to a screen near you soon) and often used nautical terms, I humoured her, we went back a long way.

The glass fronted lift 'Platinum Card Holders Only' took us slowly with much groaning and clacking to, the Landlords Flat, Penthouse, Presidential Suite...we were met with an unmade bed, a silk smoking jacket and an empty condom machine ..a list of female names on a chalkboard, some ticked and scored out of 10 hung on the wall. Monitor screens now operating showed pictures of the cash till, the ladies loo and swimming pool, ( a hole in the ground containing two shopping trolleys and a tyre, and listed in the top ten holes in the ground at the Sheffield Museum of Holes and Cavities)

We returned to the bar..there was still no sign of the cat...
Suddenly!..( bet that scared you ..right?)
A soft but sinister sounding chant startled us both....
'Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and tail of rat
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Just add the cat.'         ( with thanks to W Shakespeare, Macbeth.
This was accompanied by the screech of some tortured animal

We ran towards the kitchen....only to see a fat person in off white blood spattered chefs clothing disappearing through the exit..of the cat there was no sign.. just some agitation in a large cauldron on one of the burners. ( gas mark 7 for the gourmets on here) as if something was attempting to claw itself out ..

' That's lunch I presume.' He said...'I have had worse,' said GrannyMac, I remember a time in Kowloon...Flambé Bat served on a bed of rice by a naked Chinese waiter, Christ! He was ugly... and fat..he  looked like he belonged in a burnt down Zeppelin hangar  !'

'Thank you' Vlad said, 'that mental picture will remain with me for a long time'

'So what's the plan..walk away or rebuild!' said GrannyMac..the parrot tilted its head inquiringly...

Crack on ?
Shall we reopen?

[Scrumpy]

Crack on... 
He who hesitates.. is lost...

[klondike]

Crack on reminds me of my brother in law. I'm guessing it is common usage in the army.

This historic building does need care for a tasteful renovation though. Please source your sawdust and fag butts from a proper supplier of historical materials. Make sure blood stains are authentic too - none of that fake rubbish.

[Vlad]

Dear readers, friends and forum members, I have submitted my application for the position of Landlord to the CEO of Vlad Breweries Inc.  along with a request for a cleaner, bar wenches buxom or otherwise , cocktail bar manager, head of security and parking. (positions now available, contact with your CV.)

This new and exciting drinking establishment will be open to all forum members over 18 who wish to escape the slings and arrows of outrageous forum discussion and have a drink with like company in a relaxing environment
If all goes as planned then a grand reopening of The Jockeys Nostril Gastro Pub will be announced soon.

Welcome one and all
Any interior designers on here looking for job, a substantial tax free back hander could be yours.

[Scrumpy]

I'm up for the  'Back hander'..  I like a bit of slap..
I have been a Slapper for many years and am experienced ..

[Ruthio]

Just passing by, thought I heard mutterings....there's whispers in The Other Place that the old pub that goes by the same name might be aken over as Headquarters of the Reform party!
And wot about Fat Kev ~ he was last seen camping out in the basement there, well, when I say 'seen', I meant sensed, as in wot's that dreadful smell?!

I'm a very spiritual person you see, not many people know that, I sense these things...💡 

[Scrumpy]

I heard that Fat Kev is in the basement with Mucky Maureen. They have been at it all night..   counting the the Reform votes..
Mucky Maureen is an expert at numbers .. she has been known to count up to six in one night..

[GrannyMac]

I'd like to apply for chief taster of gin and cocktails please.  I know lots about gin, I've tasted many over the years.  I couldn't compete with Scrumpy's slappering, she was an usherette! 

[Scrumpy]

And I carried a torch..

[Mups]

Has anyone had their interview for the jobs yet?

I  ask because I saw in the local papers that our Landlord was carted off by the local Cops for being drunk and disorderly in a public place.

Apparently he was sitting on the floor at the bus stop   (there isn't a seat there),  eating a jar of cockles, and tripping up young buxom ladies with his walking stick.  Singing at the top of his voice he was,  even in the police van.

Does anyone know if they've let him out yet?

[dextrous63]

Mups, I think you'll find that it was our landlord who'd carted off a load of drunk and disorderly coppers.

He'll be in the midst of an investigation involving AC-12

[Mups]

Ooer,  how odd.   That's a very different version to what I heard.   I wonder which one is true?

Either way,  he seems to have gone AWOL,   so we need to find him if he wants this pub re-opened.
The painters and decorators are supposed to be coming to work out a price for doing the Lounge Bar.

[Scrumpy]

I heard he was in the cellar with Mucky Maureen and they were doing something over a beer barrel and the plug spurted out like a champagne cork and got wedged somewhere... I think Mucky Maureen is still in A&E..  .. I'm just sayin'.. I don't gossip.. 

[klondike]

At least it wasn't a light bulb. 

[dextrous63]

😬😬😬