The tale of Lazy Jack Silver

LJS emerged from Jojo’s office shell-shocked and blinking in the sunlight and the intense glare of a photographer’s flash bulb.  “Paparazzi” he thought – really, that was all he needed.  “Over here LJS” called a woman he had seen somewhere before.  Could it be, was it really Bobble?  Before he could be sure, she melted into the crowd. “Wait” he called after her, pushing his way angrily through the group of paparazzi who had fallen to the ground to try to get a good shot of his manly jaw for the following day’s tabloids; LJS in police custody was a good story..

He caught up with the woman and grabbed her roughly by the elbow.  “What are you doing here” he said harshly “you were supposed to be in Italy..”  Bobble shrugged her graceful shoulders. Jack grimaced “Doing HJB’s dirty work, I suppose”. “How dare you?” exclaimed Bobble and gave him a ringing smack on his manly jaw.  LJS smiled reluctantly, she could certainly pack a punch. Perhaps she had severed her connection with HJB although he seemed to remember that she had done the photoshoot for HJB’s recent spread in Vanity Fair but then those Hello pictures had had No Mobile’s fingerprints all over it.. He didn’t bring it up.  “What brings you to Cork?” he asked.  “What’s it to you?” she said.  “Ah come and have a drink in the Long Valley and we’ll discuss” he said grinning at her.

In her Swiss fastness, HJB smiled grimly. You had to hand it to the Swiss, their satellite technology was outstanding and she could follow every move Bobble and LJS made.  She picked up the phone to Waffle and said “LJS has taken the bait”.  Meanwhile back in the Valley, LJS was saying to Bobble “I have just thought of an excellent pun…” HJB sighed and closed the satellite link, she could always get an oral briefing from Bobble later.

*Author’s note – and still no puns people.

“I’’m sorry, LJS, but our relationship is strictly professional and won’’t stand punning. JoJo tossed her head and her long, dark silky hair shimmered. Lazy Jack Silver was entranced by the hint of steel in her wide blue eyes. Not since Pog had refused to let him wear his favourite sweat-stained T-shirt had he seen a woman with so much determination. Attempting to recreate “the look” that he’d perfected over the years, he gazed into her eyes but she pointed a perfectly manicured finger towards the door and whispered, “Leave, LJS. I can’’t help you.”  She turned her attentions back to Elliot who had been happy to lie on his play mat whilst his mother carried on with her demanding career.

As LJS stumbled towards the door he heard her say “Perhaps you need to think about the one known as Waffle.  The woman who claims to live in Belgium.  As he closed the heavy mahogany door behind him he heard her muttering “what is it with this guy, why can’t he settle with a decent Cork girl?”

Meanwhile far away over the Alps HJB was propped on her goose-down pillows, sipping a glass of champagne and reading Hello magazine. Casting it to one side she decided that was the last time she invited No Mobile to take photographs.  Perhaps the time had come for her to join forces with the person known as Waffle who claimed to live in Belgium.

LJS strolled languidly into Jojo’s beautifully appointed office.  He turned around and said to the empty doorway “Stay Barky!”.

Jojo rolled her eyes “Still got the imaginary dog” she muttered.  Honestly, talented and all as she was she wondered whether there was anything she could do for LJS. “Well,” she said brightly “I see you’ve got rid of the squirrel” but no sooner were the words out of her mouth than a small rodent wearing, oh good grief, a superman shirt, scampered up LJS’s arm and perched on his shoulder.

“I suppose that you heard that HJB tried to kill me” he said lazily.

“Don’t be ridiculous” snapped Jojo ” I have it on excellent authority that” Jojo paused and read from a piece of paper “naturally Heather had ensured that she was highly visible at a Raclette dinner with Phil Collins in downtown Geneva when the shot rang out. Perhaps it was sentimentality that had persuaded her to wear the 15 carat diamond necklace that evening; or perhaps she knew that such a fabulous jewel on the neck of such a glamorous woman would ensure maximum publicity in the international press.” “Our people in Interpol are speedy and efficient – well, the Swiss people are anyway – the pictures will be in “Hello” tomorrow”.

LJS flashed his magnificent turquoise eyes in irritation “Come off it, Jojo, you know Heather as well as I do, she could easily manage to be in two places at once or, failling that, get a hitman”.

Jojo looked at him appraisingly – what he said was true, there were more sides to Heather than she would like the Swiss police to know about but something told Jojo that HJB wasn’t involved in this hit.  Heather never made mistakes, if she wanted LJS dead well then he wouldn’t be here now.

She decided to turn the subject. She drew a deep breath “how are things with Pog?”  LJS turned away ashen faced, the squirrel cast Jojo a look of deep disapproval and offered LJS a nut.

LJS spoke with difficulty “this isn’t about Pog, forget her, I have, I’m seeing someone in Dublin now…”

Jojo raised her eyebrows, if LJS was seeing a non-Cork girl things had really changed. As though he read her thoughts LJS said “a Cork girl in deep cover”. “I see” said Jojo. Anyway, enough about his personal life she decided, she had had enough of that during the time she had worked as his counsellor and now she had other fish to fry.

“So” she said “who do you think shot at you assuming it’s not HJB?”

“I should have thought it would be obvious” he said.

Jojo remembered how LJS had never failed to irritate her in the past. “No, I’m afraid it’s not, do tell me”

“Well, I will, but first I have an excellent pun…”

*Author’s note: I’m getting a bit desperate for a pun here people.

A shot rang out in the bar.  LJS felt the bullet go by ruffling his glossy chestnut locks.  People screamed and fell to the floor but he remained immobile.  He knew that bullet had his name on it but he was sure that the assasin wouldn’t risk a second shot.  He had been a target before. Many times. Hhis three jobs were just part of his cover.  He was an agent of the underground movement for a free People’s Republic of Cork.  The police arrived. They immediately gravitated to LJS; with his chiselled jaw and calm air, he had an imposing presence. “Did you see anything?”

“No, but it was aimed at me. I think it could be one of my former lovers who lives in Switzerland.”  “That’ll teach her to get all ratty about a stupid cat”  he thought bitterly.  He supposed that in setting the police on Heather who lived, to all appearances, at least, a blameless life,  he had been cruel.  But she had been cruel to him and LJS was not in the mood to forgive.

“Excuse me sir, but would you like to see a counsellor?” asked an apologetic policeman.

Counsellor pah, thought LJS, I eat counsellors for breakfast.

“We have Jojo available…” the policeman interrupted his thoughts.

Ah, well, if it was the lovely Jojo, perhaps he would see a counsellor after all.  Rumour had it that Jojo had settled down to a life of blissful domesticity with husband and baby, but LJS had thought of an exciting new pun that he felt Jojo might enjoy…

*Author’s note. I am very poor at puns – can someone help me out here?

poggleon 30 September 2004 at 12:31
(
Comment Modified) Shouldn’t that have read:”… but he remained nomobile …”??

Lazy Jack Silver was tall.  A little too tall perhaps.  He liked to drawl in his singsong Cork accent ““Boy, I’’m tall and I’’m proud”.” He was also excellent at puns.  He sauntered into a bar anxious to pick up an Oxford graduate research student.  But he was a little tense.  He was in a long distance relationship with a girl in Dublin. Also there was the risk of putting his relationship with Heather in jeopardy.  “Although” he reflected wryly “ his recent flat sitting seemed to have soured things”.  And then there was the enigmatic Pog, would he ever meet her or would he just end up sitting in bars in exotic places, his eyes full of tears and his evenings ruined?  He tried to put that behind him.  His work allowed him to travel to exotic destinations where he could try to forget.  Working on a newspaper with a lecturing job on the side and (um silver, what is it you do?) meant that his every waking minute was filled with excitement and adventure.  People envied him his glamourous lifestyle, he supposed. But he had his own private tragedies, would he ever forget the bitter evening in August when Bolton beat his beloved Liverpool 1 – 0? And then there was the tormented relationship with the Skinny Within.  Ah, better not to think of it.  He scanned the bar looking for distraction….

belgianwaffleon 29 September 2004 at 11:41
(
Comment Modified) Jack, I know you love it really. HJB, I don’t really know Menace the blogger so I’m looking more for head ripping but I’m afraid it can’t happen immediately because then our hero would be dead and the story would be over. Would you like to feature as a basic instinct type person? In exchange for that sweetie, I think we can pretty much write you up as you’d like. Get back to me.

Comments

jackdaltonon 27 September 2004 at 18:00Oh good. Does this mean we can look forward to a higher standard of blogging around here? 😐

belgianwaffleon 28 September 2004 at 15:04Silver, s’pose so. Jack, I dunno, shortly I might try to craft a character based on a cross between yourself, Silver and Locotes. This is one of the exciting exercises suggested (ok, no, you three don’t get namechecked, but I think you see what I’m getting at here).

jackdaltonon 29 September 2004 at 00:39I will only agree with this exercise going ahead if it’s about Jack Locoretta – six foot five, far more cultured that you thought, and not from Cork.

belgianwaffleon 29 September 2004 at 10:18OOOH! Has to be Lazy Jack Silver.