It was a day before Halloween at Fawlty Towers, though the sign read "Doggy Jowels"
Basil was behind the desk with Sybil, dealing with the guests who were swarming in like bees. Sybil was wearing her traditional Halloween witch hat.
"I love how we were able to get things all decked out in time for the season" said Sybil, taking a puff from her cigarette after lighting it up.
"Season of insanity is more like it. Goblins, warlocks, besides David Cameron in dreadlocks, or Theresa May in a swimsuit I've seen everything I need to see" said Basil.
"It's just a holiday, Basil" replied Sybil. Basil laughed.
"A holiday, is it? Then why are we working? What happened to self-respect? And a witch hat of all things, really Sybil? I would have expected a better costume out of you, fire breathing dragon perhaps?" suggested Basil. He then muttered "Yes, the dragon from the Fall of the House of Usher would suit her well!"
"What's that, Basil?" asked Sybil.
"Nothing, dear," said Basil. He then muttered "The woman looks more peculiar, and more like she's wearing a costume when her hair is showing"
"I need to answer the telephone I do believe it's Audrey" said Sybil.
"No, you excuse me for a second, and I'll check to make sure it's your little hedge-born friend" replied Basil. He answered, slowly and reluctantly.
"Fawlty Towers? Yes, the fire breathing lizard queen is directly to the right of me" said Basil, handing the phone to Sybil.
Minutes later...
"Your husband was dressed as the Magna Carta, oh dear, that's a new one indeed" said Sybil.
"It takes all kinds I suppose," Basil muttered to himself. Sybil continued her chat with Audrey, loudly laughing, and driving Basil batty.
"Oh, I know. I know," said Sybil who was on the phone with Audrey. "Well, you can't make accommodations with someone who's been plume plucked, dear"
Basil scoffed to himself, rolling his eyes, muttering something completely indecipherable, then something to the effect of "Heaven knows, my plumes have been plucked,"
It was then that two guests showed up, a man clad in a suit of habergeon armor carrying a ball and chain, and a woman dressed as a medieval maid.
"Oh good lord, more normal guests, brilliant," Fawlty muttered to himself.
"Name's Wallace. We have reservations" said the man in a suit of armor, his ball and chain still dangling from his side. The woman began to speak to Basil, promptly.
"We just got back from an event. Wallace is such a well known performer in our clique, I mean he's really been around, so have I, we're so good at standing out we could punish ourselves for it. We both need a place to rest, so we made reservations" said Grainne.
"Did you? Is the mans first name William by any chance? Let me guess, a double. Well, I have reservations in regard to your reservations, I find your kind crass" replied Basil. The guests just looked at each other, confused and bewildered.
"What might those reservations be?" asked the woman.
"Excuse me? Well for one thing, the only abbreviation related activity acceptable around these parts is B&B, if you follow, nothing else, if you don't mind," replied Basil. The guests were now even more perplexed, but Sybil helped bring Basil to his senses.
"Basil!" yelled Sybil, invoking the wrath of God into her husband's ears.
"Yes dear? I'm just dealing with these so called 'guests' of ours, they're into all sorts of strange poppycock and I'm not really privy to it" said Basil.
"They just came back from a renaissance faire Basil, they come from Belfast Ireland, I happen to know them both dearly" said Sybil.
"Oh, really? Figures then. Well, we had a bloody good run dear, I'll be the new general manager at the Cross Keyes Inn if you need me" said Basil, storming off.
"Pardon my husband, he's in a bit of a huff. He gets this way during the fall" said Sybil.
"Oh, it's alright I suppose, though I'm still not sure what B&B is, bed and breakfast I would hope. The name's Wallace, this is my sister Grainne, our names should be on the list" said Wallace. Sybil ran down the list of names, finally coming to them.
"There we are, okay, good. Polly would you show these two to their respective rooms, thank you, you're such a dear" said Sybil.
Polly greeted them with her intense, soulful blue eyes, and she walked upstairs, Wallace and Grainne following her. She was dressed in a green Victorian corset.
"Grainne, this is your room, you get a very nice view of the Riviera" said Polly. She continued showing Grainne everything in her room, then gave her the key.
"If you need anything, or have any trouble don't hesitate to ask for assistance. Oh , and if you want singing hinnies, here's a reference guide" said Polly, shutting the door. She then guided Wallace to his room.
"So, this is your room Wallace, you get a magnificent view of the railway station in all its glory, oh, and there's a special number for singing hinnies, it's wonderful" said Polly, winking at Wallace mysteriously. After she had shown everything to Wallace and giving him his respective key, she walked back downstairs to the reception desk. Basil and Sybil had apparently retreated into hiding to sort something out.
Later...
Polly was standing behind the reception desk. She was greeted by the Major.
"Morning, Elsie!" said the Major.
"Morning, Major. How was your sleep?" asked Polly.
"Oh I had the most strange dream. Your door was missing again, then I found it in the store, I wanted to buy it for a not so hefty price, but it kept trying to capitulate.
Let it know its worth something so it won't be like that again" suggested the Major.
"Will do, Major, will do. Oh, and there's a special number for singing hinnies if you want any" said Polly.
"Is there? Well I do love a good toad in the hole now and then," said the Major.
"No, singing hinnies. Not toad in the hole" replied Polly.
"Ha-how do you get a hinnie to sing?" asked the Major.
"You don't do anything to get them to sing, they're just griddle cakes with a peculiar name" replied Polly.
"That's astounding that you can make them sing without doing anything to them" replied the Major. Polly sighed.
"Have fun. Good cricket match on the BBC I hear" said Polly.
"Yes, I will enjoy the ambient sounds of nature, thank you" said the Major walking upstairs.
That night...
Manuel was serving people food.
"This toad in the hole was made with rump steak and lambs kidney, using some sort of recipe from the eighteen-hundreds!" said the guest.
"Is nice?" asked Manuel.
"No, mate, I wanted toad in the hole with sausages, take this back and tell the chef" demanded the guest.
"You want a toad in a hole full of sausages?" asked Manuel, who seemed shocked.
"No, no, you know, I want a Sausage Toad" replied the guest.
"We no serve amphibian" said Manuel.
"I don't mean literally, it's a traditional English meal, but you wouldn't understand that being from Tajikistan now would you?" said the guest.
"Que?" inquired Manuel.
"Tell the chef he's supposed to put fresh hot sausages in a casserole, and then pour batter over them before cooking them at exactly the precise and adequate temperture
of four hundred and twenty five degrees fahrenheit"
"We no have sausages, I go bring pigeons from upstairs, give them to chef, he serve you up nice" said Manuel.
"WHAT? Hey, come back here!" yelled the guest. Manuel then overheard two guests discussing the occult.
"Table tipping is impossible," said one guest.
"I think the power of the mind can exceed that of matter" replied the other guest. Manuel was confused. He tipped over the table, using his hands, then set it upright, putting money on it.
"There! You see how is done? Peh, impossible, they crazy, I can do it two different ways" muttered Manuel as he wandered upstairs to fetch some pigeons. Polly chased after
him.
"Manuel, you loveable derelict dodo, what are you up to?" said Polly, snatching Manuel, and hugging him.
"It's ok, I go get pigeon!" replied Manuel.
"Wha-wha-whaT?" shrieked Polly, relinquishing Manuel from her grip, perplexed. She wondered just what Manuel was really thinking, given he's from Barcelona.
We join Basil and Sybil, also there is a very bad storm outside as we join them:
"I'm still worried about Wallace and Grommit up there, I think they could be riff-raff disguised as legitimate guests, I mean it's not as if Ireland and England are bosom buddies" said Basil.
"Oh, come on Basil, Wallace is very charming...of course I'm still deciding if he's going to be lucky" said Sybil in a pontificating dream-like tone.
"Whatever do you mean? He should be locked up in the Tower of London! You're smitten with him?" asked Basil.
"Oh, no, no, nothing like that. They're just a brother and sister from Ireland, they're not up to any mischief, I can assure you Basil," said Sybil.
"All differences forgotten eh? Everything's fine, don't mention the wars? Well, you could be right" said Basil.
"Of course I'm right, Basil. There's no need to be frightened of them" replied Sybil. Basil groaned.
"I'll have you know, my scheming little spice cabinet-or is that Polly? Anyway, yes, Wallace and his sister are fine, no harm done, that's what you said about the witches, and they're having a table tipping seance in the dining room, Polly told me she's entering the Tarot business, I mean this is supposed to be a hotel not some sort of Babylonian mystery sex cult" said Basil.
"Don't make a fool of yourself like you did all those other times," said Sybil.
"It's night-time Sybil, I'm always more clear headed during this time, and besides, I'm just going to tell them I'll be checking the walls" said Basil.
"Oh, dear, such a shame. Here we go again" said Sybil, as Basil shut the door.
But suddenly, the power went out everywhere in the hotel, possibly due to the storm. Now, everyone was in a panic.
Basil decided to reassure the guests that everything was fine.
"Well, it has come to my attention we have a little problem here at the hotel. Rest assured, everything is ship-shape and ready to go out. If you need me,
I'll just be getting some candles upstairs, why don't you people calm down?" said Fawlty. Fawlty stared at the guest for a few moments, before speaking again.
He continued, "When I bring back the candles we can all read Edgar Allan Poe, maybe the Fall of the House of Usher or something!" said Basil, furiously, raising his fist. "Yes, the Fall of the House of Usher, it's just way too bloody appropriate isn't it? It even has a dragon in it"
A half hour of bumbling in the dark later...
He knocked on the guests doors after not being able to find the candles in the usual place...
"You wouldn't happen to have candles would you? Hiding them from all of us while we starve? I mean, not that you'd do that, but you'd certainly be using them if you had any right? Okay that's what I thought" said Basil, retreating downstairs, but before he could make it he bumped into Manuel, who had somehow caught some live pigeons. Pigeons began flying loose in the hotel, flapping their wings in Basil's face and heading downstairs.
"Why were you squeezing those pigeons?" asked Basil.
"It's really quite amazing, they come from open window, I did not need even to catch them" replied Manuel.
"How could you have been chasing pigeons in the style of Tesla when just a few weeks ago you didn't know a pigeon from a porkchop! What is this?" thundered Basil.
"I don't really know what's going on either!" replied Manuel.
"I don't blame you, my dear mud minded Manuel. What the bloody hell is going on here? There's no power in the hotel, everything's as dark as Count Dracula's castle, and there's pigeons loose in my hotel? What will the guests do? When they feel those things brushing up against them, there's no telling what kinds of thoughts they'll be thinking" said Basil.
"You right. Is halloween, I go get costume" said Manuel.
"My word, he's out of touch," said Basil.
"I go get costume. Who am I out to touch?" asked Manuel. Basil looked horrified.
"Dennis Kompton? Henry Kissinger? Catherine the Great? Adolf Hitler's niece? How should I know? Go touch some candles and bring them downstairs so our good for
nothing guests can have some luminiscant delights while they're feasting on their food-like sustenance" yelled Basil.
Later, Manuel tripped on a newspaper, he went tumbling down the stairs in a skeleton costume. Everyone in the hotel was panicking, they felt things brushing up against them, flying in the air, but no one knew what was the cause of it. Grainne, Wallace's sister had let her door open foolishly, and she attempted to shut it, but not before letting a pigeon into the room. She screamed. Basil who was downstairs could not leave a damsel in distress.
"I must hasten upstairs, I realize it seems like there's some very randy ghosts here on a Halloween night, they're only perverse pigeons, nothing more, nothing less" shouted Basil in a dignified yet unsavory tone. He continued muttering, "Now I know what people locked up in the Tower of London feel like"
Basil hastened to Grainne's room.
"It's okay, they're only pigeons, our waiter, you see is from Barcelona. They don't have as many pigeons there in the fall, and we wanted to get some for a toad in the hole recipe, never mind, it's complicated. But just so you know, there's no need to worry about things flying into your skirt, they're only pigeons" said Basil, shutting the door, even though the pigeon was still in
Grainne's room. She screamed.
"Listen, I'm sure you can manage it, just keep it down" said Basil.
Basil breathed an irrational sigh of relief, as he went downstairs. He saw that Manuel had tripped and dumped a whole bunch of candles on the floor.
"Manuel, what are you doing? Go make sure Grainne is still with us" ordered Basil. Manuel brushed the dirt off his costume and hastened upstairs, returning with a large
sack of grain, and once again falling.
"Grain still with us, everything fine" said Manuel.
Later...
Polly invited Wallace and his sister downstairs for a Tarot reading to cheer them up, meanwhile Manuel was still in his skeleton costume. He got up and began walking around in his glow in the dark costume, holding a lit candle. The Major saw him.
"My Lord, Elsie, you've changed over the years," said the Major.
"Que'?" replied Manuel.
"Elsie, why did you try to cook an egg on your head?" asked the Major, noticing some pigeon poop atop Manuel's skeleton costume head.
"I cook egg on my head?" asked Manuel.
"Yes," replied the Major. "Ah, a Japanese warplane? No, a dirty pigeon" he added, after pulling out his old rifle and attempting to shoot them, scaring all the guests out of the hotel, but no one who worked there, as they were used to it. Luckily, despite shooting pigeons in the dark, he was able to bring the birds down, dead.
"Ah, my aim is still impeccable. Remarkable, it is" said the Major.
"Yes, you very good shot Major" replied Manuel. "But who you think you are, Rocky Balboa?" he added. Clearly Manuel had no idea that Rocky was a fictional boxer.
"Thank you Elsie," said the Major. "If anyone needs me I will be upstairs reading a biography of Ian Fleming," he added.
"What we going to do with those pigeons?" asked Manuel. Basil was so stressed he wasn't paying attention.
"Put them in the water tank for all I care, I'm calling the electric company" said Basil.
The newspaper headlines the next day listed Fawlty Towers as a haunted hotel full of dangerous pigeon-like ghosts armed with rifles. When the paranormal investigators showed up, Basil immediately called the police in a panic, assuming the aforementioned investigators were dangerous deviants, not knowing who they were or their purpose.
The news of the haunted hotel made Fawlty Towers even more popular. No one knows who started the rumor, but Basil suspects it was Polly, covering for the pigeon incident
Happy Halloween.
THE END, PART 2 MAY OR MAY NOT BE MADE.