8 September 2014
"SURPRISE" he said joining in.
Mr Monk feigned delight when he attended a surprise birthday party for one of Mrs. Monk's tennis pals who had reached a significant age worthy of celebration.
Mr Monk had been molested, on arrival, by a wasp or a bee that latched onto his face and left a poisonous affliction.
Mr Monk's face had become numb as if a dentist had anaesthetised and the anaesthesia had gone horribly wrong. This was hardly the right time for Mr Monk to express joy with the 50 other guests who unlike Mr Monk were well primed and somewhat pre loaded with alcohol for the moment of choreographed ...
Before the "SURPRISE" Mr Monk had wandered about the guests in the garden since he was aware that at least one doctor and several nurses might be present.
He duly found a nurse who surprised him by complaining of a bee sting she had received three days earlier, she explained and indeed demonstrated by way of the bruise on her arm that her sting had become infected and spread out in an inflamed manner. Mr. Monk had a sting one inch from his eye and the nurse had demonstrated that his eyeball was in the orbit of a potential infection.
Mr. Monk set about seeking reassurance from another guest and a retired Doctor. Doctor No told Mr Monk that he might need antibiotics because bees are "dirty".
Mr. Monk's less than reassuring but free consultation with Doctor No was interrupted. On the other side of the garden Mrs Monk had attempted to sit upon a less than robust ornamental garden seat which collapsed dramatically under her weight leaving her imbedded in a pile of broken twisted wood and foliage. Doctor No immediately abandoned Mr. Monk's consultation and hurriedly made his way to Mrs. Monk, where he examined the scene and took several photographs with his phone. Doctor No abandoned Mrs. Monk in situ not wishing to put his back out with the task of helping her up and out of the garden detritus.
Mr. Monk enlisted the help of another guest and they raised Mrs. Monk off the ground so she might recover her dignity.
"There is a nail up my arse," said Mrs. Monk, and "Look at that bastard," she said, referring to the Doctor who was at the other end of the garden sharing his pictures with the other party guests.
So, Mrs. Monk also had reasons not to be so cheerful at this moment which coincided precisely with the arrival of the guest of honour.
"SURPRISE" she also said, joining in.
By this time most of the other guests were ready to party.
Uncle Derek set about arranging party games for that is what Uncle Derek likes to do while also dancing lasciviously. Uncle Derek was the only guest dancing and needed a partner. He schmoozed over to Mrs Monk who was his first choice of dancing queen.
Mrs Monk responded unequivocally.
"Not the first time Uncle Derek has been told that," Alan observed.
But Uncle Derek was not put off and soon he had everyone organised into two teams passing balloons between their legs.
Obviously we Monks were too cool and too sober to participate but we did take some pleasure in observing the madness. We noted that Uncle Derek had arranged for the two youngest ladies to be behind and in front of him in this unlikely human chain. Uncle Derek was less than shy about his task of passing squeaky balloons.
The next race then concerned the passing of oranges under chins, a further challenge that Uncle Derek accepted with far too much relish.
And then they brought out the bananas.
.... I draw a veil.