Brownlow and the Professor…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s ancient Egyptian deity is the snake-headed goddess Amaunet with her attributes of hidden power and the primeval. (Amaunet)
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‘Professor… Professor!…’
‘Eh?’
‘Ah, sorry, did I disturb you sir?’
‘Yes you did Brownlow! I was right in the middle of the second act of Verdi’s Aida…’
‘In the middle of?…’
‘Damn it man! Can’t you see I have my headphones on! What do you want?’
‘Oh, sorry sir, but the courier just brought a package from the British Museum.’
‘Oh, alright then, get it opened… It must be that mysterious inscribed clay tablet from the Middle East dig that Dr Whemsop was working on before he ran off…’
‘Ran off?’
‘No, no, did I say that?… Right, put it on my desk Brownlow – let the dog see the rabbit.’
‘The rabbit sir?’
‘Oh, shut up man, it’s just a figure of speech!’
‘Yes sir.’
‘What are you eating?’
‘Oh, just one of Aunt Cissy’s nutty biscuits sir.’
‘Ah, a fine woman your Aunt Cissy! Come on then pass them over! Don’t be such a tight wad!’
‘Oh sir, you are dropping crumbs on the tablet.’
‘Don’t be so bloody precious Brownlow! A few crumbs aren’t going the hurt it after all these years – in fact I think that the inscription concerns foodstuffs anyway.’
‘Really sir? The Brit. Mus. people were stumped as to what it was all about – Professor Vplogo said that it was probably…’
‘Vplogo! He’s an idiot! He doesn’t know what day of the week it is, never mind stuff like this…’
‘He does speak very highly of you sir.’
‘And he should too! I remember that day on the punt with Vice-Chancellor and his Shih-Tzu…’
‘Oh?’
‘Enough on that subject – you don’t mind if I have this last couple of biscuits, do you Brownlow? Aha! I think that it is pretty clear what this inscription is…’
‘Really sir?’
‘Yes, it seems to be, for some reason, a record of an ancient sandwich maker’s shouted diatribe, with musical accompaniment, promoting his own product, and gleefully insulting his rival’s fare – he is describing a famous argument at that person’s market stall over some sort of cheap meat food lottery that the chap had organised…’
‘That’s amazing Professor! So, these are the words of a song?’
‘No, not a song as such, more the telling of a one-sided shouting match.’
‘I see sir… how shall I describe your interpretation when we send the item back to the Brit. Mus?’
‘Oh, just say it’s something like, ‘An offal waffle falafel raffle tussle kerfuffle wrap rap…”
‘Hang on Professor, could you say that again for me?’
‘No Brownlow!… Are you sure you haven’t got any more of the lovely Aunt Cissy’s nutty biscuits hidden away in your trendy shoulder bag?…’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in archeology, brain, conversation, food, Grumpiness, history, humour, religion, surrealism, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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