I stropped off in a strop....

For Liz


“I stropped off in a strop – with the dogs.”

Truffle allowed these words to reverberate around his domed shaped cranium before averting his eyes and responding “All men are bastards” which he thought might be expected by Becky Creighton –Smith. She had pierced him through the heart with a laser-like stare and threatening smile.

Truffle had lived for over half a century and he was just beginning to understand women – or at least some of them. He was also trying hard to be a bastard himself, and thought that he might eventually succeed if he kept practicing – but had failed again.

By saying “All men our bastards” and colluding with Becky with the electric blue eyes he had yet again failed to be a bastard himself. Carl Jung had said something to the effect that nice people were people with nasty ideas – and Truffle thought that the opposite was also true – that bastards were men with nice ideas – and he wanted to be one very badly – to be like his friend Scrapps who referred to people who were not bastards as “motley fuckers”

Truffle did not want to be a motley fucker but he knew that the paranoid potter Scrapps had labelled him thus. What would Scrapps have said to Becky if this had happened in the pottery class? Truffle could not think, but it didn’t matter because at this point he felt a warm wet sensation on his left calf – and realised that one of Becky’s dogs must have peed on him – what now – to ignore it like a nice person with increasingly nasty ideas or mention it. Mention – hardly the right response – to complain – too wimpish – no he had to be a bastard!

Truffle tried to look at the stunning Becky, and said under his breath “Your dog has peed on my leg.” Becky pricked her ears, and growled “What did you say, you spineless jelly-bag – Truffle look at me - what did you say just now – speak up you silly little man!”

“Your dog – your dogs are very nice – all sugar and spice”

Becky curled her lip, and Truffle knew even more surely that, like most men, he was not a bastard but a motley fucker.

“Normal bollocks” barked Becky, and bared her canines menacingly.

Sandy