More Beggars’ Opera

Let’s leave our hero for the moment, gentles dear, in his porcelain sanctuary, hot air jet on his trouser front, The Sporting Life fanning his stinging parts.
Come with me back to the bar, for an Entrance is being made.

No base clay in her formation, but from the Dear Land’s best marble, for so it seems, she sprung full-formed.
No fanfare sounded, yet all are deaf, no courtiers attend, yet Sheba’s train is there, feline incarnadine!
An eyebrow for the dumbstruck barkeep.

“Gin…tall…dirty!”
“Absoulement!“ says the astounded barhop, a Limerick man who never spoke French in his life.
His proffered glass, trembling, remains unseen however.

“I’ll sit over there”

With innkeep now entranced in tow, she moves to the very table we know so well. A seat for the lady, her drink presented. She sits, a smile for barkeep that he‘ll put in the bank, her leg is crossed. The clientele breathe again. This bar, to her an inferior foreign state, lies vanquished at her perfect feet.

“Um anything else m-m-mem?”
“I’m looking for a man.”

All men there look round them in joy short-lived, for soon they realise, there are none the measure of such a prize.
Breaking the spell, the squeak of the Gents’ door announces Barney’s return.

“Ah here he is.”
“Christ that was quick Doll, I didn‘t expect you to drop everything”
“Needs must. I have enlisted our friend to help. I have a plan.”
“Right, great, neck that, and I’ll set them up.”

Is it the drinks or Her that’s causing the intoxication?
None know or care. It’s the best trade Ryan’s has done in memory. Right on cue, the door swings wide.
Sexy Beauty has come among them.
For a second time that day, mouths gape, glasses halt halfway to dusty throats.
Without doubt she is the very essence of sex and vitality and now that we see her, there IS a resemblance to Cameron Diaz, but the comparison favours our young Titan. With grace to shame an impala, she crosses the floor; her lithe and limber form a magnet for hungry eyes.

“Vodka and red bull” she calls over her shoulder to the frazzled barman, who will take those lips to his grave.
“And two more here as well - big ones.” Shouts Barney, taking unfair advantage.
Our conspirators three, now lay out their stratagems.
At last, like the final piece of the jigsaw, Fatmammycat passes a business card to SexyBeauty.
“It falls to you now, here is his name, he will be as putty in your elegant fingers.”
“And you?”
“I shall be in the back up vehicle with the mice. And now, since the night is yet young, let us away, for I know a place we can merry make.”
“Why have you started talking like that?”
“I’m pissed.”

As our heroes leave, an equally exotic trio passes them in the doorway.
These three are hairy and engaged in some mild disagreement.

“Yes, I’m quite sure now, this isn’t it, or is it?”
“Well If I hear a remark in here like that last place, I won‘t be responsible.”
“Don’t be a cunt. Leave the talking to me.”