Albert's dead!

John rushed across the pub. He flew towards the bar, his brow sweating. ‘A large brandy landlord – no, make it quadruple’

John’s friends gathered around each of them clutching an empty glass. What on earth could be wrong?

‘Albert’s dead’ said a breathless John.

‘Albert’s dead?’ cried his friends in near perfect harmony.

‘Yes’ said John as a tear formed in his eye then retreated again. ‘Albert is dead’.

‘That’s.....awful’ spluttered James. ‘Albert’s dead, how dreadful’. He upturned his empty glass and then rushed towards the gentlemen’s loo as fast as his quivering legs could carry him.

‘My goodness’ said Alan with a crack in his flailing voice, ‘please tell me it isn’t true’ He took a few tottering steps towards a chair in which he slumped in a pathetic heap.He placed his empty glass on the table and stared at it longingly.

‘But a few minutes ago he was standing here telling us a distasteful joke’ said Brian. ‘We all took a sharp intake of breath at the crudity of his tale, but surely it wasn’t so bad that the sword of Damoclese should have struck him down’.He dropped onto a bar stool and leaned his sorrowful head on his trembling hand. His empty glass lay on its side.

Gerald just stood there with, his brow furrowed, a frown on his face. ‘Why do all look so miserable?’ he yelled. The friends, as one, raised a finger to their mouths and shhh’d him. ‘Albert’s....DEAD....!’ enunciated Martin staring straight into Gerald’s popping eyes

Gerald fiddled with his deaf aid. It screeched loudly as he twisted the control. ‘So tell us’ he croaked. ‘Tell us what he said'

‘No’ they all shouted together ‘Albert SAID nothing’.

‘He can’t’ pleaded Simon ‘Albert is DEAD!’

Poor Gerald was overcome with shock. His mouth darted open, but his false teeth remained clamped together giving him the appearance of a startled shark. His hearing aid dropped to the floor and started whistling.

Just then James appeared from the men’s room and swaggered across the bar with a triumphant look on his face. His hand was held high clutching what appeared to be Albert’s wallet.

‘You’re right Jonny Boy, Albert’s brown bread alright, he’s well and truly snuffed it. I found him perched on the toilet, his trousers around his ankles, and this...’ He flung the wallet on the bar ‘This was on the floor!’

The friends all began to smile. They all stood, picked up their empty glasses and plonked them down on the bar. 'I knew we shouldn't have worried' chortled Gerald.


‘Landlord’ called Brian. 'Five pints of your finest frothing ale if you please. There's no way Albert would  let us down when it's his turn to buy a round!’

Written for (Fiction)Friday

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