Luke's Diary: An Unlucky Man In A Zombie Apocalypse. Entries 1158 - 1358

Entry 1171: Wednesday 11th December 2019

Entry 1171
Wednesday 11th December 2019

I made another t*t of myself today.

Naomi's in a bit of a mood with me, and it looks like out of the three vicars who we could choose to marry us, we are stuck with the pervy one with Tourette's.

It all started when I was at home with Mum and Auntie Meryl who were both arguing. Auntie Meryl was angry with Mum for bringing random men over to the house and having sex with them, and Mum was mad with Auntie Meryl for using the microwave to dry her knickers. "I'm sick of waking up to see some strange man come out of your bedroom," Auntie Meryl snapped at Mum, "You'll have a foo-foo like a baggy sleeve." "We'll have a microwave that's not fit for purpose if you keep putting your tent sized knickers in there!" Mum snapped. "Your vagina won't be fit for purpose if you carry on," said Auntie Meryl. "My vagina is none of your business," said Mum. "It's not the business of every man on this island with a pulse," said Auntie Meryl "But you don't mind making it their business." "Oh God," said Mum, rolling her eyes, "You need to stop putting your knickers in microwave. They're for things like sausage rolls." "You just need to stop dropping your knickers and letting all these men put their sausage roll in your microwave," said Auntie Meryl. "Jesus Christ," I said, rolling my eyes, "You two are driving me mad." "That guy was driving me mad last night," said Mum. "MUM!" I loudly exclaimed. "She's a dirty old slapper," said Auntie Meryl, "Always has been, I bet you didn't even know the name of that man who was up there cleaning your plughole." "Why do I need to know his name?" asked Mum, "I was interviewing him for a job." "We all know what job you had in mind don't we?" said Auntie Meryl. "Oh, shut up you old trout, and stop putting your knickers in the microwave," said Mum. "And you stop bringing dirty old men here," said Auntie Meryl, "They could do us over and steal all sorts. One thing they won't steal is your dignity. You don't have any to steal you old slut." "Will you both please just shut up!" I loudly snapped. "Look," said Auntie Meryl, showing us a pale brown furry dear stalker hat, "This is what your latest conquest left behind. What the Hell is it supposed to be?" "It's a furry dear stalker hat," said Mum, plonking it on her head and then plonking it on mine, "I'll give it back to him when I next see him." I took the hat off and put it on the sofa. "I think it's quite fun," said Mum.

At that moment there was a knock on the door, and Naomi walked in. "It's only me!" she called. "Oh, thank God," I said, as I walked into the living room and gave her a kiss, "Some sanity. These two are driving me mad." "Naomi, do you think it's normal for someone to dry their knickers in the microwave?" asked Mum. "Nom Nom," said Auntie Meryl, "Do you think it's normal for a woman in her senior years to be entertaining more men than Marilyn Monroe did in 1954?" "Don't get Naomi involved in your stupid arguments," I said. "I'm going to the loo," said Auntie Meryl, "Let's hope I don't find some random naked man in the shower waiting for me." Auntie Meryl went upstairs. "I saw Cyn," Naomi said to me, "She spoke to that other vicar. He's coming round to see us." "The pervy one with Tourette's?" I asked. "No, the other one," said Naomi, "She said she'd send him round here this morning. We can have a chat with him about the wedding." "Right," I said to Mum, "You and Auntie Meryl need to keep your mouth shut." "Oi, I'm not the one who told that other vicar to get f*cked and that her breath was so bad she needed to see a specialist." "I didn't know she was a vicar!" I exclaimed. "Just don't say anything to mess this up," said Naomi. "Yeah," I said, giving Mum a stern look. "I'm talking to you!" Naomi firmly said to me. "Me!?" I exclaimed, "I'm not going to say anything to mess things up. It's her you need to worry about. The vicar doesn't want to know about Auntie Meryl's knickers in the microwave and all of your gentleman callers." "I know how to act in front of a vicar," said Mum. "Right," I said, I'll make some tea." "I'll tidy up a bit," said Mum.

I left Mum and Naomi giving the living room a quick tidy whilst I was the kitchen making tea. As I poured the tea and put the mugs on the tray, I heard a knock on the front door. I could hear Mum and Naomi answering the door, getting the vicar and showing him into the living room. I finished off making the tea, picked up the tray and carried the drinks into the living room where Naomi and Mum were sat with the vicar; a man in his sixties with small glasses, a kind face and a gentle demeanour. The thing is, Mum had put the stupid deer stalker hat on top of the vicar's head. God knows why! "Luke, this is the vicar Peter Parsons," said Naomi. "Hello," I said giving the vicar a smile, "My name's Luke. I..." SMASH! I stubbed my toe on the foot of the sofa, lost my balance and ended up dropping all the mugs with hot tea in them right into the vicar's lap. We all gasped, the vicar jumped up and started waving his hands round. "Oh God," I said, "I'm so, so so, so sorry. It was an accident." "Quick, take your trousers off," said Mum. The poor man tried to tend to his crotch as Mum helped him to get out of his trousers. At that moment Auntie Meryl walked into the living room to see Mum helping a vicar take his trousers off. "My God!" said Auntie Meryl walking up to the scene, "You're even trying to snare a vicar now." "Meryl," said Naomi, trying to explain, "I..." "Trying to shag a vicar!" exclaimed Auntie Meryl to Mum, "You've got no morals...and in front of your son too." "I'm sorry," said the vicar sounding flustered, "But I really need to get these trousers off." "What!?" gasped Auntie Meryl, "You're a vicar you dirty b*stard! I go upstairs to spend a penny and then I come downstairs to find this old slag trying to hop on a vicar!" "Auntie Meryl!" I gasped. "Meryl, no one is trying to hop on anyone," said Naomi, "This is all a misunderstanding. Luke spilled tea, and we needed to get Peter's trousers off." We all composed ourselves and sat down as a tense atmosphere followed. Naomi gave me an angry stare, the vicar looked uncomfortable, Auntie Meryl looked confused and Mum stood up with the vicar's trousers in her hands. "I'll just put these in the drier," said Mum. "Put them in the microwave," said Auntie Meryl, "They'll dry quicker." Ignoring Auntie Meryl, Mum went into the kitchen as I proceeded to apologise to the vicar. "It's fine," said Peter, sitting there in his y-fronts, "These things happen. Perhaps we should rearrange." "No, it's OK," I said, "We can get a sheet to wrap around you or something." I stood up and looked around the room for a sheet. "Anyway," I said, looking at the fluffy deerstalker hat on the vicar's head, "I think it might help if we take this horrible ugly thing off your head." I grabbed hold of the deerstalker hat, gripped it hard and gave it a good yank. The problem was that it wasn't the furry deerstalker hat on top of the vicar's head – it was just his crazy, out of control, chaotic looking hair. Unfortunately, I yanked at the vicar's messy hair so hard I unintentionally pulled him up off the sofa and he ended up flying across the room and banging his head on the mantel piece above the fire place. "OH MY GOD!" gasped Naomi running towards the vicar. "God, I am so, so, so, so sorry," I said. "Luke, what the Hell are you doing!?" gasped Naomi. "What's going on?" asked Mum as she returned to the living room. "Peter, I am so sorry," said Naomi. Peter started to compose himself and lifted his head to reveal a red mark on his forehead and blood dribbling out of both of his nostrils. "Peter," I said, "I am so sorry. Seriously. I... Well... I... I thought..." "You thought what!?" snapped Naomi. "I thought it was... Well..." I said, "I thought it...I thought it was that deerstalker hat. Come on, that har is a bit whacky." "I want to leave," said the vicar. "What's going on?" asked Auntie Meryl, "Is that his actual hair?" "Not now Auntie Meryl!" I snapped. "I want to leave," said Peter, "Can I please have my trousers back?" "Yes, I'll get them," said Mum, returning to the kitchen. "You'll be the first fella who she's let leave this house with his trousers on without emptying the contents of your balls into her honey pot," said Auntie Meryl. "Auntie Meryl!" I loudly exclaimed. "I just want leave, right now," said Peter. Mum handed the vicar his trousers back, he quickly put them on and prepared to leave. "Peter, I'm so sorry about this," said Naomi, "I think we should take you to hospital." "No," said Peter, "I want to leave. I'll be fine. It was lovely to meet you all. Goodbye."

The vicar composed himself, opened the front door and quicky left. A tense silence followed as Naomi gave me a seriously unhappy look. "He was nice," said Auntie Meryl. "Don't look at me like that," I said to Naomi. "How do you want me to look at you, Luke?" said Naomi, "This is just another example of you acting before thinking. Why do you always do this? Why do you always mess things up?" "That's not fair," I said. "Not fair!?" exclaimed Naomi, "You spilled hot tea on his crotch, and then smashed his face into the fireplace whilst he had no trousers on!" "Spilling the tea was an accident," I said, "And I told you, I thought that was a hat not his own hair." "Well, because of you, we've now lost ANOTHER vicar!" exclaimed Naomi. "Not necessarily," I said, "I could explain things and get him to see it was a misunderstanding." "'I think it might help if we take this horrible ugly thing off your head'," sad Naomi, "Those were your exact words. How the Hell do you think you'll be able to convince him it was a misunderstanding? We're never going to see that man again, and I don't blame him." "I wouldn't mind seeing him again," said Mum, "He had a nice bum." "So, now we're left with the pervy vicar with Tourette's," snapped Naomi, "Unless of course you do something to screw that up. Spit in his face? Urinate on him? Chuck him down a flight of stairs? Throw him off a cliff?" "I'll talk to Cyn and see if she can arrange a time for me to meet Peter and I'll explain things." "No," said Naomi, firmly pointing at me, "I don't want you to do anything. I'll speak to Cyn and try and sort this mess out. You just stay here and do nothing, and try to stay out of trouble." Naomi grabbed her coat and left in a mood. "Well, she's not happy," said Mum. "You two!" I angrily shouted at Mum and Auntie Meryl, "YOU flirting with a vicar and getting his trousers and leaving your shag's hat around, and YOU calling him a dirty b*stard!" "Oi, don't have a go at me," said Mum, "The only reason he took his trousers off is because you threw tea all over him." "And I only called him a dirty b*stard because I saw this old trollop taking his trousers off," said Auntie Meryl. "Sausage," said Mum, "It's not our fault it didn't go to plan. You called his hair horrible and ugly, and smashed his head into the mantel piece. He was hardly going to stick around for tea, was he?"

Why the Hell does everything always go wrong!? I know Naomi told me to leave her to sort this out, but this is my mess and I'm going to take responsibility for it. I am pretty sure that if I spend some time on my own with Peter, I can get him to see that it was all a terrible misunderstanding and a series of unfortunate events. I'll speak to Cyn and see if she can arrange a chat between Peter and I. There is no way I am getting married by a pervy vicar with Tourette's.