A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers! I got a lot more for this than for my
other fic. I would be so chuffed if I got the same amount for this chapter!
Aulizia: Thanks so much for the kind comments! I really enjoy your stories, and I think you should definitely write more Mummy fics.
Imhoteps Lover: I hope you post your new fic soon! I just felt I couldn't let my public down, seeing as you love me sooooo much... lol! But no, no sandwich for you. Theyre all MINE!!!! Mwah ha ha ha!!!!
EvelynC.O: I think posting my own reviews displays a healthy sense of self evaluation, (nyarf!) I just couldn't be bothered to do a serious one for this fic. When can I ever bother to be serious? Anyhoo, thanks for the review. No sandwich for you either I'm afraid!
Nefertirioc: Ha Ha! Fooled you! See, I updated because you asked so nicely... 'Jon the Con', hmmmm *rubs chin contemplatively* That could be a better chapter title.
************************************
"OOOOOOOO............................................................
There once was a girl from Devizes,
Who had boobs of all different sizes,
One was so small you couldn't see it at all,
But the other was huge and won prizes!"
Jonathan lurched halfway into the street, giggling manically as he finished singing the out of tune limerick at the top of his voice. Clutching his precious liquor bottle in one hand he doubled over with the hilarity of his own imbecility, almost choking with raucous laughter, stumbling in the gutter as he yawed back towards the pavement.
"Steve! Steve...I love you..." he slurred as he flung an arm around his partner in crime, debauchery and all other manner of vices.
"No, no, no, you love..." Stephen frowned as his racked his brain for a name, any one of the numerous names he could have picked from the catalogue of women they had consorted with over the last week.
"Zeelah! That little minx... great big....jubblies!" he shouted coarsely, raising his hands to caress imaginary breasts in front of him, smiling like a lecherous old goat.
Jonathan tittered like a school girl, spitting a little spray of bourbon through his teeth which dribbled down his chin. He tipped the nearly empty bottle up to reward his friend with a swig. As Stephen gulped greedily an inane grin spread across Jonathan's face, his tongue protruding from his mouth with lust.
"I know!" he sniggered, smiling at the fond memory of warm female flesh, a wise use of his winnings. "Lovely... uh..."
"Eyes?" Stephen teased, lowering the bottle and batting his eyelids like a fool, making kissy faces at Jonathan.
"Arse!" Jonathan boomed back. Then he snatched the bottle of bourbon back, tipped the remaining dregs of drink down his throat, and sputtered as it went down the wrong way. Coughing wetly, he tried to clear the fluid from his windpipe, his eyes bugging comically, waving his arms like a drowning man. His blonde crony whacked him on the back, a little too hard to be very helpful.
"Ow! That hurt you bugger!" Jonathan yelled when he had recovered himself, taking a swing at his friend. But he was hardly coordinated enough to walk and talk at the same time, let alone keep his balance to throw a punch. Wheeling around like a demented clown, he went arse over tit and ended up sprawled in the road, his legs in the air like a dead cockroach. To his credit, he managed to keep a hold of the liquor bottle, the only thing which survived the fall in tact. His dignity didn't fare so well.
"You prat!" Stephen guffawed in delight at his friend's idiotic antics, clapping his hands as if he were watching his own private circus.
"Don't you tell me what I am, you bloody...prat!" Jonathan retaliated in what he thought was a very witty comeback. He sniggered though his nose, snorting like a camel as he picked himself up. Oops! He had forgotten where the curb was..
CRASH!!!!
And he was down for a second time. Well, second time in the last five minutes anyway.
"PRAT!" Stephen screamed exultantly, rocking backwards and forwards, holding his stomach and wincing with the pain of laughter. "Prat, prat, prat!"
Jonathan couldn't retort this time because he was racked with spasms of giggles himself, bright red in the face and rolling around in the dust, dung and detritus of the gutter. He let out a howl of laughter, uncurling himself to lie flat in the road, spread eagled, gazing vacantly up into the sickly orange city sky.
And gazing straight into a dark, angry looking face.
"Oh, bloody hell..." Jonathan whispered, seeing the pale uniform and insignia of the Cairo city police. "Hellooo ossifer!" he slurred, lapsing into giggles again.
The dark skinned policeman was not impressed. He had the authoritarian look of someone who would quite happily throw a man in jail for a much lesser offence than disturbing the peace.
"What do you think you are doing down there?" he commanded in his deep baritone, his Middle Eastern features contorted into a dark frown.
"He was just taking a rest, officer," Stephen said, trying to look serious but barely able to contain his own laughter. "Please don't throw him in jail Mr. Policeman, he's had a very rough night!"
"So I can see... perhaps you would like to sober up at the station?" The police officer loomed imposingly over the filthy little linen heap that was Jonathan.
"No thanks, there are no trains at this hour..." Jonathan said sarcastically, before exploding into another fit of giggles.
"Shut up Johnny! You'll get us in trouble!" Stephen warned, putting his finger to his lips, or trying to. In his state he wasn't quite able to determine his lips from the rest of his features, and nearly poked himself in the eye.
"I'm afraid you are already in trouble," the officer stated, quite positively savouring the prospect of arresting a couple of drunken Englishmen. It was high time they stopped swanning around their country as if they owned the place.
"Now, now, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement..." Jonathan schmoozed, that debonair confidence flooding back to him all of a sudden now that the occasion called for it. Sobering slightly, he hauled himself up off the ground and tried to appear steady, brushing down his now revolting linen suit.
"You see, I have something in my pocket that I think might persuade you to overlook our little...indiscretion." He put up his hand, motioning the officer to wait a second, while with the other he rummaged in his trouser pocket.
The officer's interest was piqued, although he tried to appear like he didn't know he was about to be bribed. He leaned forward a little, eyes lighting up with the anticipation of a tidy wad of cash coming his way.
What did come his way was totally unexpected. Jonathan had opted for the old Englishman's bluff, and instead of pulling out his wallet, he pulled out his fist- and hurled it straight into the man's nose. The accuracy of the punch surprised even him, as the officer went down heavily.
"RUN YOU BASTARD!" he yelled at Stephen, who was far too inebriated to be following what was happening. Jonathan yanked him by the collar and dragged him after him as he lurched down an alley way and into the maze of tiny backstreets.
***********************
A/N: 'Well that's another fine mess you've gotten me into!' quoth Jonathan. Silly man. What would Evy say? Actually, that's what we're about to find out!
Aulizia: Thanks so much for the kind comments! I really enjoy your stories, and I think you should definitely write more Mummy fics.
Imhoteps Lover: I hope you post your new fic soon! I just felt I couldn't let my public down, seeing as you love me sooooo much... lol! But no, no sandwich for you. Theyre all MINE!!!! Mwah ha ha ha!!!!
EvelynC.O: I think posting my own reviews displays a healthy sense of self evaluation, (nyarf!) I just couldn't be bothered to do a serious one for this fic. When can I ever bother to be serious? Anyhoo, thanks for the review. No sandwich for you either I'm afraid!
Nefertirioc: Ha Ha! Fooled you! See, I updated because you asked so nicely... 'Jon the Con', hmmmm *rubs chin contemplatively* That could be a better chapter title.
************************************
"OOOOOOOO............................................................
There once was a girl from Devizes,
Who had boobs of all different sizes,
One was so small you couldn't see it at all,
But the other was huge and won prizes!"
Jonathan lurched halfway into the street, giggling manically as he finished singing the out of tune limerick at the top of his voice. Clutching his precious liquor bottle in one hand he doubled over with the hilarity of his own imbecility, almost choking with raucous laughter, stumbling in the gutter as he yawed back towards the pavement.
"Steve! Steve...I love you..." he slurred as he flung an arm around his partner in crime, debauchery and all other manner of vices.
"No, no, no, you love..." Stephen frowned as his racked his brain for a name, any one of the numerous names he could have picked from the catalogue of women they had consorted with over the last week.
"Zeelah! That little minx... great big....jubblies!" he shouted coarsely, raising his hands to caress imaginary breasts in front of him, smiling like a lecherous old goat.
Jonathan tittered like a school girl, spitting a little spray of bourbon through his teeth which dribbled down his chin. He tipped the nearly empty bottle up to reward his friend with a swig. As Stephen gulped greedily an inane grin spread across Jonathan's face, his tongue protruding from his mouth with lust.
"I know!" he sniggered, smiling at the fond memory of warm female flesh, a wise use of his winnings. "Lovely... uh..."
"Eyes?" Stephen teased, lowering the bottle and batting his eyelids like a fool, making kissy faces at Jonathan.
"Arse!" Jonathan boomed back. Then he snatched the bottle of bourbon back, tipped the remaining dregs of drink down his throat, and sputtered as it went down the wrong way. Coughing wetly, he tried to clear the fluid from his windpipe, his eyes bugging comically, waving his arms like a drowning man. His blonde crony whacked him on the back, a little too hard to be very helpful.
"Ow! That hurt you bugger!" Jonathan yelled when he had recovered himself, taking a swing at his friend. But he was hardly coordinated enough to walk and talk at the same time, let alone keep his balance to throw a punch. Wheeling around like a demented clown, he went arse over tit and ended up sprawled in the road, his legs in the air like a dead cockroach. To his credit, he managed to keep a hold of the liquor bottle, the only thing which survived the fall in tact. His dignity didn't fare so well.
"You prat!" Stephen guffawed in delight at his friend's idiotic antics, clapping his hands as if he were watching his own private circus.
"Don't you tell me what I am, you bloody...prat!" Jonathan retaliated in what he thought was a very witty comeback. He sniggered though his nose, snorting like a camel as he picked himself up. Oops! He had forgotten where the curb was..
CRASH!!!!
And he was down for a second time. Well, second time in the last five minutes anyway.
"PRAT!" Stephen screamed exultantly, rocking backwards and forwards, holding his stomach and wincing with the pain of laughter. "Prat, prat, prat!"
Jonathan couldn't retort this time because he was racked with spasms of giggles himself, bright red in the face and rolling around in the dust, dung and detritus of the gutter. He let out a howl of laughter, uncurling himself to lie flat in the road, spread eagled, gazing vacantly up into the sickly orange city sky.
And gazing straight into a dark, angry looking face.
"Oh, bloody hell..." Jonathan whispered, seeing the pale uniform and insignia of the Cairo city police. "Hellooo ossifer!" he slurred, lapsing into giggles again.
The dark skinned policeman was not impressed. He had the authoritarian look of someone who would quite happily throw a man in jail for a much lesser offence than disturbing the peace.
"What do you think you are doing down there?" he commanded in his deep baritone, his Middle Eastern features contorted into a dark frown.
"He was just taking a rest, officer," Stephen said, trying to look serious but barely able to contain his own laughter. "Please don't throw him in jail Mr. Policeman, he's had a very rough night!"
"So I can see... perhaps you would like to sober up at the station?" The police officer loomed imposingly over the filthy little linen heap that was Jonathan.
"No thanks, there are no trains at this hour..." Jonathan said sarcastically, before exploding into another fit of giggles.
"Shut up Johnny! You'll get us in trouble!" Stephen warned, putting his finger to his lips, or trying to. In his state he wasn't quite able to determine his lips from the rest of his features, and nearly poked himself in the eye.
"I'm afraid you are already in trouble," the officer stated, quite positively savouring the prospect of arresting a couple of drunken Englishmen. It was high time they stopped swanning around their country as if they owned the place.
"Now, now, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement..." Jonathan schmoozed, that debonair confidence flooding back to him all of a sudden now that the occasion called for it. Sobering slightly, he hauled himself up off the ground and tried to appear steady, brushing down his now revolting linen suit.
"You see, I have something in my pocket that I think might persuade you to overlook our little...indiscretion." He put up his hand, motioning the officer to wait a second, while with the other he rummaged in his trouser pocket.
The officer's interest was piqued, although he tried to appear like he didn't know he was about to be bribed. He leaned forward a little, eyes lighting up with the anticipation of a tidy wad of cash coming his way.
What did come his way was totally unexpected. Jonathan had opted for the old Englishman's bluff, and instead of pulling out his wallet, he pulled out his fist- and hurled it straight into the man's nose. The accuracy of the punch surprised even him, as the officer went down heavily.
"RUN YOU BASTARD!" he yelled at Stephen, who was far too inebriated to be following what was happening. Jonathan yanked him by the collar and dragged him after him as he lurched down an alley way and into the maze of tiny backstreets.
***********************
A/N: 'Well that's another fine mess you've gotten me into!' quoth Jonathan. Silly man. What would Evy say? Actually, that's what we're about to find out!