Forbidden Love

Screw anybody you like, live with the results. If you're unhappy, you need to change things until you are happy with the result.

"THE DA JASPER CODE" CHAPTER 566. Whitley knew there was a clue staring him in the face, he read again the words- "married another male wood duck." He tried desperately to pull references to ducks from his memory in the dim light of the cathederal as the clock ticked and his mind raced to beat it to an answer. He knew that duck rhymed with f- no, too obvious. Suddenly his memory jerked to a screaming halt as a seemingly unimportant afternoon lecture on cryptography and iconography he'd given at Harvard exactly six years ago to the day came flooding back into his minds eye. "Professor Whitley?" The weird Ozzy kid at the back in the shade raised a pale tendril aloft. "Yes Jasper?" Whitley had never liked the kid. Maybe it was his aversion to sunlight or possibly even the toilet roll holder he'd had sewn into his belt next to the over large pockets and buckle that dispensed baby oil when pressed. Maybe it was the time he'd walked into the gents and found the boy licking the bowls clean and muttering "thank you Mummy" to himself that had skewed his feelings towards his most vocal student. Either way, he wasn't looking forward to this question. "You say that the Illuminati were originally a crew of bathroom fitters from Macclesfield but the same can be said for Jesus and pogo sticks, surely if you take the root of a man's problems with fried chicken and look at it from the point of view of syntax we're all in a tumkle dryer....." He went on, and on and on... "so you see Professor, it's all about a trumpet with no dog and, of course my penis in the end." There had been a long pause until one of the other students woke up and raised the alarm that Jasper had stopped talking bollocks at last. It had been four hours and Whitley had watched the sun setting over the college practice grounds and pondered life. "Yes Jasper, but in the end of what?" He couldn't resist it and the class had laughed long and hard into the face behind the shadows that had shrunk back and hissed. Whitley's attention was dragged back to the present and the only chance he had of stopping this grass cutting monster before the promised 'post to end all posts' and the demise of ABC that would inevitably follow. "Male wood duck?" He asked the air as if expecting an answer and then began to throw his options into it. "Male duck is a drake... wood, marriage... a spouse, weddings?" He was lost and time was shorter than an Australian courtship. Then it hit him like a steam train. It was obvious and he cursed his stupidity for not seeing it as soon as the clue had landed in his thread. "Male duck- drake. VERA drake! also Vera DUCKworth in Coronation street! Why didn't I see it?" Vera was a key. His mind grabbed at everything at once to pull it into cohesion. "Vera... marriage, wood" there had to be some clue here but what? He tried to blank his mind and think simply, making word associations. "Marriage- wedding, anniversary. That was it! It had been exactly six years since that lecture and the sixth anniversary was usually celebrated with... Iron! That had to be it. His mind raced to confirm it again and soon he realised that the modern gift for the sixth anniversary was something made of wood! He had iron and wood but still no real ideas. He played around with wood for a while but it felt wrong in a cathederal so he took his hands from his pockets and carried on with the clue. "Iron and something to do with Wood and Vera and weddings... wood, wood, wood work? No!" His attention was suddenly drawn to a large splat on his shoulder. He looked up to see the cathederals famous pidgeons, the only ones allowed into a place of worship in all of Rome. This was where Lawnmower man had brought him and they had to be the reason. Pidgeons? He couldn't see the connection for a second, then it came to him in a flash. Wood Pidgeons! That's it! Pidgeons are the key to the final piece of the puzzle, what other kinds are there? All he could think of was clay pidgeons and stool pidgeons but neither made sense. Then he remembered that fatal afternoon six years ago again but this time he was walking back to his rooms across the shooting galleries and feeling bad about his put down of the Ozzy freak. Suddenly he heard the boy's voice, sharp in the midground behind him. "Pull mate!" Whitley had turned to see two clay pidgeons whizzing towards him and ducked just in time to watch them explode above his head like a shattered lightbulb representing the icon for cartoon ideas, the metaphow wasn't lost on him. "Sorry professor!" The sickly child had waved a weak arm from beneath his protective black hood, "close call what? I guess it was nearly the end of YOU." He laughed and whitley had known he was referring back to his embarrassment in the lecture theatre. "Clay Pidgeons! It has to be, but I need to make a connection with this Lawnmower character and that Ozzy twat, what do I have?" He said each key word out loud like he was memorizing a shopping list. "Vera, Iron, Clay. It's not enough!" He couldn't concentrate for the babbling voice of Jasper in his head. He remembered his final words in the lecture theatre.."It's all about a trumpet with no dog." It had been weird even for that dickwad. "A trumpet without a dog is a trumpet without a pet... and that's a... trum, I guess. What does it mean?" He said the words again. "Vera, Iron clay and now trum, then he changed the order, Vera, trum, iron, clay." He said them over and over and tried to see how this was connected with a purile nobrot from his harvard days that kept turning up in his mind while trying to track the evil Lawnmower Man via his pointless clues. Ten minutes later he had his answer. He was now stood in the vaults of the Vatican and, in his hand was a simple dictionary. He had tried in vain to see the light until, in desperation, he'd cross referenced Iron and clay on the Papal PC and it had come up with something astonishing, an ugly and non precious opaque quartz containing clay or iron, it's name... JASPER! And just to put the icing on the cake he was now looking under 'V' in the OED, he found his confirmation... VERATRUM- a HELLE BORE!

God I'm bored!!!

"Arf" she said.

No, you're just boring, Ely ... yawnnn!

Shag him till his ears drop off. You won't get a second chance. [%sig%]

Dump them both ... your present position seems far too vulnerable to place either man before your own or your son's future happiness!

I agree with Grasscutter. You need to get out of a bad situation first. What kind of man are you teaching your son to be, by being a woman who stays with a man who treats her like shit? Do you really want your son to treat the women he meets 'like a beast'? Hmmm? Get out. Get out now. For your son AND for you. Do it, like, yesterday. Be strong. Forget about your 20-year old love-shag. He's not the answer. He just makes things more complicated. You need to love yourself first. Full stop.

Ehemmm ... I won't? But I'd really like too, green eyes!

Olga, you're not Ronnie's daughter are you? anyway, shag them both as often as possible, even at the same time if the scheduling permits. It's sex after all and they'll appreciate the effort.

Pretty deep for a man who married another male wood duck, Ely!

A test post. Certainly boring!

I'm sorry, I found that story terribly funny! Well done, Ely! *chuckles again*

thanks AG, it's based on a certain famous novelist's style but I'm not going tot ell you who it is.... oh! another puzzle!