1828. Who’s the lucky fella?

No sooner had I hung up the phone then there was a knock at the door. The phone call had been from the local supermarket saying I had won a $500 grocery voucher for entering a competition to write a jingle advertising spaghetti. The money would be put automatically on my supermarket card. Of course I was excited, because I was practically skint, and then came the knock on the door.

There stood a man and a woman who said “Congratulations!” I said “What for?” and they said I’d won a car. Well I was completely over the moon because to be honest I hadn’t had a car for eighteen months. The last one had died – utterly died – and I had been unable to replace it even with a beaten up old bomb.

Well, I got into my car as soon as those people had gone and went off to the supermarket to get some much needed things and a couple of not so important things like some chocolate and some coconut cookies. They say things come in threes! No sooner had I stepped out of my car at the supermarket than I was approached by a woman, I’m guessing around about fiftyish.

She said “Good morning!” and I answered “Good morning” and then she said, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to barge in but…”

“But would you like a house? I was recently diagnosed with a terminal problem and the only thing I care about in the world are my chickens. If you would like my house when I go you can have it provided you care for my chickens.”

Goodness! My first thought was coq au vin, which is what you can do with tough old chickens, but I said out loud instead, “Goodness! What a fabulous thing! Of course I will see to your chickens!”

So the woman arranged to meet with who-ever-it-was to officially hand things over, and when I got out of the car this man approached and said that he’d just won forty-eight million in the lottery and he knew it would destroy his family, so would I like the ticket? I said I had little or no family to destroy, so he gave me the ticket.

The handover of the house went without a glitch, and I’ll sell the house once the old lady kicks the bucket. On the way out of the building there was an old guy asking for money, probably for drink like always, so I said “Get a job you last lazy slob instead off bleeding off other people.” I like to tell it like it is. Some people would take the shirt off your back if you gave them half a chance.

35 thoughts on “1828. Who’s the lucky fella?

          1. Iseult Murphy

            That’s awesome! I love New Zealand. So glad there wasn’t an earthquake when I visited though. (I’m a coward. Prefer Irish earthquakes, where the windows just rattle like a big truck has gone by on the road).

            Liked by 1 person

            Reply
  1. Yvonne

    I haven’t seen anything on the news about the earthquake, I do hope there wasn’t a lot of damage in your country.

    Now, if there was ever a fella who deserved a nasty ending, it was this one.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Bruce G. Post author

      The quake was out at sea and sort of rattled a good lot of the country – but no damage from what I hear – apart from some supermarket shelves. Perhaps I should have a supermarket shelf fall on today’s story just to teach him a jolly good lesson.

      Liked by 4 people

      Reply
    1. Bruce G. Post author

      Yes fine thanks Max. New Zealand is known as The Shaky Isles – so you get used to it! (Actually I never get used to it – I think I’m going to die every time there’s a shake!)

      Liked by 3 people

      Reply
  2. arlingwoman

    Goodness, I saw your PM on video today, saying you were having a quake. It was a 5.something, I heard. We had one of those here a few years back (well, 9, now) and it was 5.4 or something and I thought I was going to die. Ran straight out of the house and joined a group of neighbors in the courtyard who had done the same thing. Now this guy in the story, goodness. He should get a bit of a brick flying off a building, eh?

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Bruce G. Post author

      Ha ha! Re the flying brick. The earthquake doesn’t seem to have caused any damage – but it was enough for me to go stand under the door frame which apparently is safer than standing in the middle of a room. It went on for about a minute I thought.

      Liked by 3 people

      Reply
            1. Bruce G. Post author

              Yes – my father built a number of houses and we were always taught to stand under the door frame. Never run outside because you’ll get hit my falling bricks and glass! Both my parents were in earthquakes that killed hundreds of people.

              Liked by 2 people

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