Papa Bumdips heads out.

[Glebe]

Papa Bumdips was bored. "Huh!" he snarked, "I'm really tired of sitting around here watching the day go by! I think I'll head out!"

So with a skip in his step, a scarf on his throat and a songbird up his arse, PB trundled down the hallway and opened the front door. "Brrr, bit cold out!" he gleaped, "Glad I've got me winta woolies on!"

Yet he was nary three inches out into the November chill, when a large apricot whacked him on the bonce. "Oi, who threw that?" 'Twas then he heard a snickering from yon fence, and saw the face of Mirthsome Mike, his hand covering his cheeky, grinning gob! "C'mere, young Mike, y'flipping scoundrel!" But in a trice, Mirthsome had had it away on his heels and was making good progress towards the outer reaches of Newfoundland.

"Ooh, me bonce!" sqweeped poor Bumdips, rubbing his noggin tenderly. Here was a fine start to his winter walk, and how d'y'please! Ne'ertheless, he set forth once again and had made it as far as the village park when he suddenly felt his bladder bulging. "Oh fuck me, not now", he whispered, his worst fears coming true. The nearby public toilets were closed, but thankfully the local caff was quite near. But by the time he was out on the pavement, things were reaching critical mass. "Aw no, no no no, fuck this!" he cried in exasperation. It just wasn't his day, was it?!

There were two options. Option number the first involved letting the wee happen and darkening his pants. He could trot home, shower and change into new undies and troosers. He would have to hope he didn't bump into anyone he knew on the way, who would stop him, notice the big, dark stain on his cream-coloured chinos and get a whiff o' the wee-wee. Option the second involved schooching in behind a nearby pillar and hoping he had enough cover to complete a healthy slash. It felt like a one-minuter, and he would have to try and push the piss out as quickly as possible, hoping nobody - especially a policeman! - spotted him relieving his waters.

He opted for option two. But ten seconds into the ecstacy of bladder drainage, a copper happened to spot him across the street and came bobbling along, as pleased as y'like!

"'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! What's all this, then?" Officer Nutkins glooked. PB could do nowt but continue the weeing, not daring to turn lest he wee on his shoes, or, even worse, the coppa! "Please, Officer," he cried, "I got caught short and had to 'water the flowers', as it t'were! Don't bang me up in chokey, m'dear, m'dear!"

The policeman laughed. Nutkins had found himself in a similar situation many's the time, and despite being a fascist pig, took sympathy on Bumdips plight. "That's alright, mate! You go ahead and finish y'Jimmy Riddle, I'll be on my way, as if nowt had happened."

"Thank 'e, Sir!" bleated PB gratefully. Oh Bumdips, you've done it again!

It wasn't such a bad day after all... despite being stuck in the park, busting for a piss!