The Whatever Files

The Party

I'd been invited to a party, some second cousin or third uncle twice removed or something. Why are distant relatives always so mathematically inclined? Anyway it was to be a birthday party, the old coot was hitting 111 if you please. Seems he was celebrating with some young heir who was coming of age, that being 33 as you know. See, more maths!

At first I was disinclined to accept, but then I started hearing about the food. It seemed as though the old boy was determined to clean the Shire out of hams. And pies. And pastries, and even, quite importantly it seems to me, of beer. The party was promised to be quite the feast. Naturally my stomach was voting for acceptance.

What decided were the serious rumours of fireworks. Some big wizard was going to put on a once in a lifetime display, well I couldn't miss that could I?

So I sent my note of acceptance, and had a think about what I could take as a present. Not that there seemed much point, I mean how long left do you have left to enjoy something if you're eleventy-one? I settled on a Moroccan bound set of books on Feng Shui, all about space clearing and decluttering. It was titled 'Hoards of the Things', and I for one was glad to have the space it occupied back.

Soon the big day arrived, and I ambled around, all washed and polished like. Greeted the old coot. I hadn't seen him to speak to in years, and it was clear he had no idea who I was, but he was friendly enough. Took my present and added it to the pile, and with a gross of guests it was quite the pile I can tell you. I saw no less than five identical teasmades, oh, and a couple of knitted tea cosies that have been doing the rounds for years.

The dinner was everything that had been promised and more. I don't mind confessing that I stuffed myself silly. So much so that one of my waistcoat buttons popped off and disappeared under the table. Well it was mother-of-pearl, and I didn't want to lose it, so I sort of slid under the table after it. I'd had quite a few beers, so this wasn't what you'd call high level thinking on my part. No sooner was I under the table when the old coot started speechifying. I couldn't hear most of it, except the last bit was quite loud. "I am leaving NOW. GOOD-BYE! Oh bugger I've dropped the darned thing."

Then a ring rolled up to me, well naturally I picked it up and slipped it on...

This has nothing WHATSOEVER to do with The Whatever Contest. So there!