Lust and Peanut Butter

Charles and Murphy were brothers two years apart, but everybody thought they were twins. They both had thin red hair parted neatly down the center of their heads.

They sat at a sticky fake wood table in the far corner of a West End London pub named, “Rose and Wanker”.

R. Leo Styles from “Inquiring Minds” sat across from them.

The brothers had never been in this pub before which was the reason they chose it.

The American tabloid they were speaking to through R. Leo Styles was going to change their lives. “Inquiring Minds” bought everything that had anything to do with Royalty and it paid good money. Cash. The Royal Wedding was approaching, and the time was now to make their move.

R. Leo Stiles said, “My editor says you have a little story to tell.”

Charles and Murphy traded grins at each other.

“A little story!” Murphy began, “I'll tell you wh--”

“Perhaps!” Charles said raising his voice just slightly to quell his brother's eager verbiage, “ We should offer our esteemed American guest some refreshment...” He raised his arm and a waitress appeared at the table. She was chewing gum and had a yellow daisy behind one ear.

“Libations, I believe,” said Murphy.

The waitress raised both pencil-thin eyebrows at R. Leo as a way of inquiring on the new-comer's preference.

“I'll have scotch,” said R. Leo.

“Sounds splendid!” said Charles.

“A round for the table!” said Murphy.

“Your very finest,” added Charles without missing a beat, and both brothers shot their pale eyes across to R. Leo, letting him know that he was paying.

R. Leo looked at the waitress and nodded his head.

The waitress popped her gum and winked at R. Leo as she walked away.

He turned to the two men and tried to keep his face straight. He opened his mouth to speak, but realized he would start to laugh the second a word came out so he closed his mouth and looked down at the table for several long moments.

When he regained himself, R. Leo looked up and said, “First of all, do you have proof that you actually tend the garden of the Royal--”

Charles put both hands up in the air, “The Dutchesssess's estate...” he said, looking around at the other patrons of the pub.

“Yes, ah, you have proof you work for The Dutchess?” R. Leo whispered. “This story of yours sounds a little crazy to me.”

The waitress came back with the drinks. She put the drinks down with her eyes on R. Leo. Finally she said, “I know you, you look so familiar... I bloody well know you...”

“No,” said R. Leo. He shook his head and smiled.

“I swear, I poxy seen you on the teley--”

“No,” said R. Leo. This time he didn't smile.

The waitress went away.

“Let's get down to it, boys,” he said “What's this about the Dutchess having sex with groundhogs?”

Charles raised his hands to R. Leo again. “You brought the money?”

“I brought the money,” said R. Leo.

“Cash?” asked Charles.

“Cash,” said R. Leo.

“Yes, well, she keeps it in her room,” said Charles.

“The groundhog,?” asked R. Leo. “In her bedroom?”

“The groundhog,” Charles confirmed. He brought a cell phone out of his tweed coat, played with it, and held it across for R. Leo to see.

R. Leo squinted at the little view finder for some time. “Is that her bedroom?” R. Leo asked.

“And here's another of it in her arms,” said Charles, pushing a button.

R. Leo saw a picture of elderly naked arms holding a rather distressed looking groundhog.

“Is that her arms?” R. Leo asked. His voice had risen with his own excitement.

Both brothers shushed him.

“Yes,” Charles hissed, nodding his head in utmost sincerity.

“Tell him about the peanut butter,” suggested Murphy.

R. Leo was just taking a slug of scotch when it almost came out his nose.

“Peanut butter?” he asked, wiping his mouth.

“Peanut butter!” said Charles. “Cases and cases! Keeps 'em in her bedroom she does!”

R. Leo brought a yellow legal pad out of his briefcase and a Bic pen from his shirt pocket. “What kind of peanut butter?” he asked.

“Jiffy,” said William. He looked at his brother for agreement and they both nodded their heads.

R. Leo wrote down Jiffy Peanut butter on his writing pad.

“What kind?” he asked.

“Chunky,” William said, and both brothers nodded their heads in agreement again.

“Chunky? Now were getting somewhere...” R. Leo said as his pen recorded the words and his journalistic instincts began flowing through his blood.

“Cases and cases of the little jars,” said Charles.

R. Leo stopped writing and glared hard into the eyes of the two men across the table.

“Cases and cases and cases?” he asked.

Both men nodded their heads and R. Leo ordered another round of drinks and returned to his writing pad where he began recording cases and cases and cases and cases of peanut butter and a trapped and frightened groundhog caught in the bewildering turmoil of lust amidst satin bedsheets.

912 words-