11558 It’s late, I’m bored…..

was fun whle it lasted

Only to find it was a fascinating article on the use of goose fat which whetted her jaded appetite for a new experience in a new country, where you were free to burble on about the important things in life, to hell with the sales figures, she thought panting slightly, her brow became moist (hello Iam in the wrong book here!).
She flung her computer to the floor in sudden defiance of her life and looked towards the curtains, perhaps they would make a beautiful dress to go to............
to be continued.
A

.. a bellowing roar from the boss's office brought Samantha back to Earth with a thud.

Jules was in a foul mood, as was so often his stance recently and screamed at Samantha to bring his morning coffee. The high pitched shriek grated on Samantha and she plotted how to kill her boss as she slowly squeezed the dirty dishwater from the cloth into her boss's coffee cup while pretending it was his neck.

"Bloody Italians" thought Samantha "They are so obnoxious they don't deserve such a wonderful country".

"Where's my coffee?" screeched Jules

Samantha wandered along the corridor and into her boss's office, stirring furiously to disperse the oily scum that was slowly gathering on the top of the coffee.

"Here it is, freshly made and piping hot Jules" said Samantha, with a wicked glint in her eye. "How was your trip Jules? Did you enjoy Rome? It must have been wonderful".

Samantha was the sales assistant for ‘Acme Goose Products’ (agricultural machinery waxes), she was terrified of her boss Jules who had been in a bad temper since finding out that the Naples office had their own coffee machine.

She re-booted her computer and stared at the thread, if this new company had launched a better product, she would be banned from attending the conference group.

Samantha’s day had been ruined, she had been waiting to see if her best friends Sandy and Penelope would be her bridesmaids and had sent the emails out simultaneously so that they were both asked at the same time. She was worried about her decision to ask them as they had recently fallen out with each other over what to wear to her hen do.

Samantha suddenly remembered where she had heard of Italy Magazine Forum before, it was last year when Penelope had bought her holiday apartment in Tuscany and had knocked over a valuable artefact whilst visiting the Uffizi gallery in Florence. Penelope had used the IF to ask if anyone knew were she could find a replacement artefact.

She stared at the computer screen, but her mind drifted again to Italy and what entertainment she would book for her guests...

oops posted at the same time...

Jules decided that Samantha couldn't organise a p!ss up in a brewery anyway and handed over a brown envelope containing some hush money as he clicked a link to his favourite porn site.

Samantha grabbed the envelope and ran from the building into the travel agents next door and booked a ticket on Bryanair to Roma. She was the type to read the small print and it didn't phase her in the least that the baggage allowance was one Marks & Sparks carrier bag.

She also made a mental note that next time she runs into any travel agents it would be sensible to use the door. But the pain in her temple soon passed and so did the days until before she knew it she was sat in seat 43b next to a heavily stubbled , yet attractive man.

"Hi" he said, "I'm Mike, Lazio's premier estate agent"

He was lying of course, but seeing the bump on her head, the Marks and Spencer’s carry bag, and the envelope stuffed with money, how could he resist.

His real name Da Vinci, a son from a long line of North Atlantic fishermen, famous for there dried fish, locally known as the Da Vinci Cod…………

Sam was smitten - it must have been the bump on the head.
'To hell with work and Ben and the wedding, I'll see if I can find my fortune here in Italy.'
When the plane landed she asked Mike if he would show her the sights before going back to his office.
'With pleasure!' he said taking her by the arm and leading her out of the airport. Mike had an ulterior motive but for now he had to keep Sam sweet so off they went with Sam clutching the Marks and Spencer bag with the brown envelope stuffed with money.........

Sam felt the warm sun warming her bruised ego, she eyed her handsome escort from beneath her long brown lashes and gave him a half tentative smile, he was so different from Ben, Ben with his rugby playing mates whoes idea of fun, was the communal shower after the match and then if she was lucky...........
A

She might get the odd chance to join them...

Meanwhile, back in the office,Jules, realising his mistake, put his cat into the back of the car, grabbed his three passports and phoned one of Samantha’s bridesmaids…

.. a Vindaloo at the Delhi Belhi washed down with a pint of Snakebite real ale.

Sam gazed at Mike (whose real name was Giovanni d'Abruzzo) with interest and wondered what he was hiding under his mackintosh - so casually draped over his left arm. Mike noticed Sams eyes (one of which pointed in the opposite direction of the other) and decided parting this signorina from her Marks & Sparks carrier bag would be a doddle.

"Come with me beautiful lady (read with heavy Italian accent - how romantic!) I will take you to see something special - something you will not believe exists and at such a reasonable price. This wonderful 'ouse is a bargain and I am the one who can make your dreams come true - vieni con me cara - andiamo".

Sam fluttered her eyelashes as they stepped into a taxi and Mike told the driver to take them to the Vatican. Ten minuntes later they were standing in Piazza San Pietro with the Basilica in front of them.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Sam "surely this cant be within my budget?"

No, cara, this is the Vatican - it is not for sale yet, turn around and look here" Mike pointed out the large and impressive round building now ahead of them and Sam gasped in awe.

"Is that the place?" she asked

"Yes, cara, it's called Castel Sant'Angelo and it can be yours - I have the sole agency rights to sell this wonderful building and as soon as we met, I knew you would be the one to buy it".

Oh it's wonderful, it'd make a great party house" said Sam "Can we take a look around"..

"Vabbe, let's go, but I only have some of the keys with me" said Mike as they headed off towards the Castle and joined a long and winding queue...

Bloody Hell, you lot - it's outta sync now! :bigergrin:

Meanwhile on the floor of the Marmite Exchange , news was spreading (geddit)...............But elsewhere the question was Ben, Ben, Ben ?,,,,infact it was Multi Ben...........

...it was Sandy (keep up everyone, the second bridesmaid). She had sent a text using their secret lovers code 'mariya disuja'...

Hello everybody, my name's Ghianda and I'm an alcoholic........... oops sorry wrong forum.

Maybe not!!! lol

Having removed the mobile from his trouser pocket, Ben couldn't help notice that there was something still bulging there. Embarrassed he reached back in, and having taken care of "other business" he pulled out a scrumpled piece of paper, it was the note that.....

But back in Rome, Sam was sitting savouring the sites, a glass at her elbow and Mark at her side, they had eaten an exquisite meal, and drunk heartily, the pasta with clams was a far cry from pizza hut Bens favourite taste of Italy on a Saturday night... but suddenly her stomach clenched and she laid a fluttering hand on her throat, stood staggering...was it the clams?, but no it was........

the large glass of heartily, not being a drinker, she should have stuck to coke..........

indigestion from the frigging Bryan air tuna and sweetcorn sandwich she'd eaten earlier. Well how could she resist at only £5.40, plus free mars bar if you have a large coke. But the indigestion passed, and so did a speeding Vespa which screeched to halt outside just as...

As Jules’s cat sprang towards her, Samantha was less surprised by this and more surprised by the presence of Penelope next to Jules. Penelope was holding a gun and pointing it at her. Jules spun around to look at Penelope. YOU KNEW ALL ALONG? he cried. Yes, she said. BEN TOLD ME. Samantha puked, Jules burst into tears and Penelope pulled the trigger…

The bullet missed Samanthas left ear by two inches...........it got her right between the eyes, luckly she was wearing her new Italian sun glasses and ricoshad across the bar hitting...........

Ah but this was not the end for Sam, she had 20 Italians around her telling where the best hospital was, where their nonna had been and where the best food was served (OK you bring your own loo paper...but)

Silly Samanthas two brain cells quickly disintergrated into a gloopy mess. However, Silly Sam clung to life and had yet another one of her many momentary lapses of concentration and slithered off into the undergrowth swearing revenge on Penelope, who calmly reapplied her lipstick and smiled demurely at a passerby wearing a diamond encrusted Patek Phillipe.

"I'm having that" thought Penelope and winked at Sandy, the second bridesmaid, who had also clocked the time piece.

.. as he opened his complimentary pack of peanuts and stared at the in-flight menu. Sleazyjet had come up in the world, thought Ben, they were serving curry for lunch.

Poor Ben remembered the romantic nights he spent will Samantha at the Delhi Belhi and sighed heavily. Why couldn't Silly Sam just be satisfied - with a bag of chips on a Saturday night?

Far too pissed and well gone to keep up...................keep the thread alive XXX

Meanwhile, back at the customs post, (difficult - got it all wrong, went in through Switz...)

Unfortunately, news had spread - sources unknown - that a brown envelope containing ('possibly' - (which is even less certain than 'allegedly')) a sum exceeding Euro 10,000 had entered Italy!. Now this notizia galvanised a ridiculously large number of pattuglie di carabinieri - (enough, in fact, if the allegedly were true, to have left the peninsula completely undefended): and indeed to have stretched even those caserme in Sicilia and Sardegna, (brought in to help their mainland cousins (for a consideration, yes, granted, and totally fair...) and now (despite being competely au fait with the truth), I have lost total track of the brackets...so call me Saul Bellow, (or even the guy who wrote about Rabbits and died yesterday).

But, back on track, la bella Samantha has become, quite innocently and totally unwittitngly, a hunted lady! How will she untangle herself from this (potential - unless an Italian Prince appears) disaster?

And there he was, Prince Alessandro Fabrizzio Giacomo Paolo Sabelli di Montepulciano e di Cortona, dark, handsome and influential. He did not need to fake "bella figura". His Armani suits were impeccable and his red Ferrari could only be described as the right car to take him anywhere. He was driving from his Tuscan palace to meet with some friends when.......

...he picked up a shoe from the steps of the piazza and wondered who could be the owner of such a small pretty slipper?

Was it the Ugly Bridesmaids (Sandy and Penelope) or did it belong to Samantha Ella (her middle name)?

WHOEVER FITS THIS SLIPPER, I WILL MARRY, cried Prince AFGPS di M e di C.

But in the meantime Prince AFGPS di M e di C. had more pressing issues to deal with like "why won't the sodding Ferrari start and does my ACI insurance cover palace start?" He found his ACI card in the breast pocket of his Armani suit and before long he was journying south towards Rome in his beloved red Ferrari, perched on top of the ACI recovery lorry. But he was still troubled by the slipper and its missing owner.

Meanwhile back at the hospital lying between her crisp sheets (changed daily) Sam was dreaming of her rustic rural retreat, where she would lead a simple peasant lfe, with her fitted kitchen, marble worktops, washing machine, dish washer, swimming pool, and all those other little things that she really insisted she must have,especially if she was to keep up with the charming new friends she was bound to meet, they could have endless, endless conversations about........

IKEA and.......

sex with Mr Berlusconi.

.

... where the Health & Safety inspector from ENEL was rampaging up and down while waiting for Samantha to agree to the massive charges to boost her supply from 3KW to 6KW so she could boil the kettle and run the dishwasher at the same time.

Telecom Italia where waiting in the wings with promises to reconnect the phone line any day soon..

Samantha grinned.

They had all been fooled. Jules thought the secret ingredient was marmite, Ben thought the answer to global world domination was goose fat, Penelope (who was working for Barry Scott undercover) had only hoped to get onto a tourist YouTube video in the piazza.

Samanthas new villa (and the reason why Mike/Mark had to die), was because in her dusty cellar, amongst the buckets, scorpions and discarded airfix models was the real secret ingredient that had been cleverly coded in the ‘machineries’ thread…

It was paint stripper!!!! How silly of her not to realise it before! That was going to help regain the dazzling appearance of the machineries. But then, something terrible happened while she was having a look at what the Gardening Group intended to do. Suddenly.....

..Nonna appeared from the cantina holding the spaghetti tree in one hand and a placard in the other that read "Io sto qua! VAFFANCULO TUTTI" :swoon:

....barfed on the rug , and clearly high on paint stripper fumes, set about savaging Nonna who oddly burst into song.....

"What's the matter you, gotta no respect, shuttupya face", & grabbed the nearest stick of salame from the ceiling and clubbed the moggy to a pulp. Limping, she fled the cantina, afraid that Giorgio her husband, would notice she had used a less matured salame... As she reached the kitchen, her cellulare rang....it was her neighbour, Umberto, who was the mother of...

Prince Alessandro Fabrizzio Giacomo Paolo Sabelli di Montepulciano e di Cortona, who had changed his name to Eric ..............

As fate would have it, a series of unfortunate events were about to unfold. Prince Alessandro Fabrizzio Giacomo Paolo Sabelli di Montepulciano e di Cortona (AKA Eric) had not counted on his mother's vindictive wrath. Having become aware of his intention to become and wed a pleb, Princess Mafalda decreed that he should also live as one. Totally disregarding Italy's inheritance laws, as only an aristocrat could do, she proceeded to reposess the Ferrari, Tuscan Palace and Roman villa leaving the prince penniless and without an identity card. She further advised her circle of aristocratic friends that they were forbidden to attend such a wedding, whether it was celebrated in Rome, Tuscany or any other idyllic setting. The wedding organisers were then beheaded and their families excommunicated by the Vatican, but then....

...’Ello’ magazine offered the Princess Mafalda a million (worthless by now ‘Sterlina’) for sole rights to photograph and publish the….

…beheading of the wedding organisers, but only if…

.. the old crone was allowed to continue living in the cantina.

Eric tied his goat to the post and wandered up the rustic path that led to another diamond encrusted villa in a noteworthy but secondary idyllic setting somewhere in Tuscany and burped as he rang the doorbell, which not only rang in the 'ouse, but also throughout the 10,000 hectacre DOC vineyard below.

He could smell fish cooking, but no one answered. Somewhat perplexed, he saw an old man who just happened to be passing by on his donkey (camera pans left to gratuitous shot of said donkey) and said "Dove sono loro?

The old man grinned showing off his one and only tooth and said "Boh, non lo so - magari non saro ma andato dove volevo andare, ma penso di essere finito dove volevo essere."

Eric just stared blankly as, being from Napoli, he didn't understand a single word the old man said and so replied "Sei Brasiliano?"

The old man grunted "eh", whipped his donkey into a frenzy, spat on the ground and trotted away singing a well know aria called Rehab. :bigergrin:

As darkness began to thin, & the grey light of dawn arrived, Eric stumbled & fell head long into a yawning hole, the last thing he remembered before blackness took over, surprisingly, was how the old man he had met had looked so familiar….and how the greasy blobs smeared on the old mans cuffs had rung silent alarm bells...

Eric , (formally known as Prince Alessandro Fabrizzio Giacomo Paolo Sabelli di Montepulciano e di Cortona ) slowly recovered his thoughts in the now, wide awake hole.
Etched on to the wall of the hole was
• Saturates 32.7g + Mono-unsaturates 55g + Poly-unsaturates 10.8g combined with Yeast Extract
• Salt
• Vegetable Extract
• Niacin
• Thiamin
• Spice Extracts
• Riboflavin
• Folic Acid
• Celery Extract
• Vitamin B12
“My god that’s it” he cried,

The original Marmite formula! Or perhaps it's the Aussie Vegemite.... No, it can't be, it does not contain onion extract... Definitely, it is Marmite!
Suddenly.....

A scuttling noise was heard. He cringed and pushed further and further back against the sticky walls, all thoughts of Marmite fled. A small door opened and shaft of light filled the hole....