Mr and Mrs Nuts
It was a lovely day. The right day for a disaster. Mrs Nuts was sitting in her favourite kitchen chair, reading by far the most favourite novel of hers – Shontelle Torque: A Strong Woman. The last pages were extremely emotional so Mrs Nuts couldn’t hold back her sorrow anymore and there appeared a tear rolling down her cheek. Just then, her husband, Mr Nuts came in. His enormous Pringles-guy-like moustache was trembling for he had to giggle at the sight of this woman who, well, couldn’t count herself among the most emotionally stable ones.
“Oh, Edgar, darling, come here. I’ll read you this bit,” Mrs Nuts called and sniffed loudly.
“Ah, God forbid, my dear! Anything but that…” Mr Nuts’ eyes widened. Fear crept on this big fat man.
“Oh, Edgar, you’re being prejudicial. This is the best book that could have ever been printed in the whole wide world, in the whole history of mankind.”
Mr Nuts rolled his eyes.
“Trust me, Edgar,” Mrs Nuts pursed her lips.
“I’d rather not,” Mr Nuts murmured, adjusted his trousers, sat down and one only waited for his trousers to burst and his shirt to start firing buttons.
“Oh, Edgar,” Mrs Nuts sighed with her hand on her mouth. She wiped her round eyes and stood up. Even when she stood still she seemed to be moving all the time or at least shivering for her flowery dress looked like a meadow in the breeze. Mrs Nuts smoothed down six hairs of hers which were out of place, held her head high and announced: “I’ve got to go to the loo.” This did not cause any reaction whatsoever on Mr Nuts’ part as he was busy studying the earwax he had managed to get out of his ear with his little finger. However, a few seconds after Mrs Nuts left the kitchen, she came back.
“You’re not on the toilet, Edgar,” Mrs Nuts said more to herself than to Mr Nuts, her eyes wandering uncontrollably.
“Wait a second,” Mr Nuts said lazily, “I’ll make sure, my dear… no, I’m not,” he looked at Mrs Nuts and raised his eyebrows. Her mouth was, again, covered with her hand, her brows furrowed, her brain trying to process some information.
“But the light is on,” Mrs Nuts muttered. “The light…is…on.”
“What’s wrong, my dear?” Mr Nuts was fully aware he must do something.
“The light is on.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The LIGHT is on.”
“What do you mean?”
“The light is ON.”
“My dear, calm down and sit down for a while, will you?”
“Edgar, we must…”
“…get him out.”
Mrs Nuts scratched her head sending a few hairs out of their place. Mr Nuts took a deep breath – the trousers and the shirt were doing their best to keep the flesh clothed – and thought hard how to get their son out.
Mrs Nuts left the kitchen shivering with sobs. Mr Nuts followed her. She pressed her ear to the door of the toilet carefully. Then she knocked gently. Nothing. She knocked a little harder.
“No answer,” her lip trembled. Mr Nuts swallowed hard and with a firm fist banged on the door.
“Honey, sweetheart, are you all right? Your mum and dad are worried. Please, say something.”
“Oh, Edgar, what are we going to do?” Mrs Nuts leaned her head on her husband’s chest.
“Stay at peace, my dear, I’ll figure something out.”
“I’ll write him a letter. To comfort him. So that he knows we are here for him.”
“That’s a marvellous idea!” Mr Nuts agreed. Suddenly, the bell rang.
“Bloody hell, who is this?!” Mr Nuts went to answer it.
“Helloooo, neighbour!” Mrs Chaos waved. “Aw, you look… ehm… anyway, can I borrow your vacuum cleaner?” she smiled.
“It’s really not the right time, Mrs Chaos. We…”
But in the meantime Mrs Chaos managed to invite herself in and when she spotted poor Mrs Nuts being not quite at ease, she gasped and threw up her hands.
“Oh my, what happened?”
“My-my son is stuck on the toilet. He is not answering.”
“Good Heavens! He might have fainted. And hit his head really bad. He may be bleeding. Lying there, unconscious in his own blood with his pants down. Soaking wet in his own red sticky blood and…”
“Okay, thank you, Mrs Chaos, I think that’s enough,” Mr Nuts grabbed her by the arm terrified what she might have caused to Mrs Nuts’ nerve system.
“Oh, I’m just trying to help. Lord knows I really am. Did you call the police? And the fire fighters…”
“Well, actually that’s a marvellous idea,” Mr Nuts pondered the suggestion.
“…and the gravedigger – you know just in case, to be ready…”
“MRS CHAOS,” Mr Nuts exclaimed, “it’s been lovely having you around, but if you’ll excuse us, Mrs Nuts needs to take a rest now.”
“Ehm, okay. I just wanted to make myself useful…considering the situation you’re in, one would think anybody would come in handy. But not. They are picky even in an unfortunate situation like this…well, and I wanted your vacuum cleaner by the way,” Mrs Chaos looked them up and down.
“I’ll find the way out myself, thank you very much,” and off she was.
Mr and Mrs Nuts stared blankly at the place where Mrs Chaos stood a while ago.
“Well, Edgar and what now?”
“I’ll call the fire fighters, my dear. And Mr Stuck as well. I gather he’s been in a similar situation, he will have experience in this…ehm…area. And then I’ll look for my shears, maybe we could snip the hinges. And dear, supply him with water in the meantime. It could work with a straw under the door. And don’t forget about the letter!”
“Brilliant, Edgar! You are the man to count on when emergency arises. Now I know I have married the right man,” Mrs Nuts cried melodramatically.
“Oh my dear!” Mr Nuts was touched, approached Mrs Nuts and kissed her passionately on the forehead.
“Oh, Edgar, let’s rescue our son, shall we?”
Sometime later uniformed men stood in a semicircle around the toilet, water supply was running, a letter was written and delivered and another was already being written. Mr Nuts found the shears, but waited for the fire fighters to come up with a plan. Dozens of crumpled sheets of paper were scattered on the floor – unsuccessful attempts and unfinished strategies with flaws and inconsistencies.
“Time is running out, chief,” Mr Nuts whispered to the head fire fighter. Sweat drops appeared on his forehead, he breathed heavily and tried to stay concentrated.
“Yeah, yeah, we are working on something right now…we ehm… it might work…we…” the fire fighter assured Mr Nuts.
“Excuse me, but there is my son, you should…”
“Hey, calm down, Mrs Nuts, we know our stuff, trust would be nice, too.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m sorry.”
“And a double espresso.”
“Of course,” Mr Nuts nodded. “Would you, by any chance, want some nuts?” Mr Nuts added.
“That would be lovely.”
“My dear, you’ve heard the man, a double espresso with nuts, and quick!” he called on Mrs Nuts.
The atmosphere was tense. The clock was ticking. Everyone grew impatient. And the light was still on. But then, out of nowhere a sound was heard. Everybody turned in the direction of the door. The front door, however. They held their breaths and waited. Clinking of keys, insertion of a key into the lock and the opening door. There he was, the son of Mr and Mrs Nuts well and alive. He entered and raised his eyebrows at the sight in front of him.
“Ehm, hello there. What’s up?” he asked confused.
“Oh, my sweetheart!” Mrs Nuts rushed towards him and locked him in a tight embrace. Mr Nuts was speechless and just squeezed his shoulder.
“What, what is this all about?!”
“Oh honey, we thought you were stuck on the toilet…”
“But hold on a second. If you are here, then…then who’s there?” she pointed at the toilet door. Everybody gave a little gasp. Mr and Mrs Nuts’ son came to the toilet and pressed down the handle. The door opened only to reveal an empty toilet with a huge puddle in front of it and a couple of letters with smudged ink.
“Oh,” Mr Nuts laughed. “I must have…must have forgotten to switch off the light.”
“Ehm…yeah…” concluded the son.
Photo source: https://www.wye.co.uk/view/Tapestry/Printed_Tapestry_Kits/Historical_Sampler_Company_Tapestry/Mr_and_Mrs_Tapestry/
No comments found.