Jane led her two new recruits into the kitchen to explain their job roles. Kelly admired her as she puffed on her daft cigarette and blew her smoke towards the ceiling, she thought this was awesome. Phillth wasn’t concerned with her appearance, as he imagined using the discarded ash in his first meal. He was eager to start his job. He’d always wanted to be chef, and couldn’t understand why people found the ‘food’ he made so rancid. He would now prove to the world, or at least to a number of guests in the hotel, that he could cook like the best of them. Jane was first into the kitchen, quickly followed by Phillth. Kelly walked behind in a dizzy way. Jane was aghast at the sight that greeted her.

“What on earth have you done to my relatively new kitchen!?” she cried at Big Man Tayls, who was just finishing off the tap fittings.

“Shaddap you posh bitch! I was hungry! I still am!”

“Oh my good God,” she went on, “how on earth will we cook for the guests now?”

“Oive got an oidea. Hmmph!” intoned Phillth, and he quickly stole Jane’s cigarette, broke it into thousands of pieces and put them into his shoe. Using the powers of his breath, he then stunned Tayls and grated what was left of the sink on Tayls’ hyper-carnivorous teeth. Finally, he tore up what Tayls had left of the linoleum from the floor, and borrowing a (posh) lighter from Jane, melted it into the mixture, which had now grown so large he’d had to remove his (varying shades of ) cream slacks to house it, all of which had made for a quite disgusting site. Phillth, however, opined that it was “a rerrly good soup loik. Hmmph!” He and Kelly took his recipe into the dining room, which Jane humorously called a restaurant and set it down before Joey, who was disgusted.

“What the fack is that you brammie tosser?” he asked, relatively politely.

“Am not askin’ yer to loik it Joe. Hmmph!” shouted Phillth, inaccurately.

“Fackoff back in there and get me sam jellied eels or pie and mash. I’m a tits man for fack’s sake!”

Kelly saw an opening for a joke. “Perhaps you should have jellied tits then, hah hah hah (dizzily).” she laughed. Extraordinary.

“Yeah diamond fanny you thick growler. Don’t you know that my dad’s Frank Butcher? Get me sam fackin’ food.”

Meanwhile, Jimmy had almost finished booking everybody in. No sexual innuendo is intended here. He had to get a bit of help from Liz as he had trouble understanding Olympiakos, Aled and Ieuian, and especially Ieuian, as he was from Llanelli and thus made all of the words he spoke last about a day.

“Well,” said Jimmy, camply, “are you all ready to see your bedrooms? I know I’m looking forward to it. Oh go on you lot, get up the stairs and stop teasing, you devils.”

Nobody really knew what he was on about, but they all though he meant go up the stairs, so they did. Jimmy followed, wiggling his cute little bottom as he went. As they did, Cliché Si, a master of clichés and proverbs, who had recently taken a vow of silence, appeared at the reception desk. None of the staff noticed him, as they were all helping to carry luggage up the stairs, or walking camply, or spreading rumours, that type of thing. Recky was first to follow Jimmy, and in particular his backside, up the stairs. Si was thinking that this was like a red rag to a bull, but he wouldn’t say it. Upstairs, there were a number of rooms. The first was Jimmy’s. He had taken up residence in the hotel to be near Jane at all times. He loved his new room and insisted on showing it off to everybody.

“I’ve got a super idea chums,” he said, “why don’t you all come and look at my room first? It’s lovely.”

The guests reluctantly agreed. Liz and Faniella waited outside. They had seen it thirty-four times already. So had Recky, but she went in anyway as that’s where the boys were. Inside the room, Jimmy had created a shrine to his heroes. On his bedside cabinet was a signed photograph of Julian Clary. A painting of Larry Grayson sat on the wall behind it. On the opposite wall was a large poster of Jimmy Somerville, and on the main wall was the daddy of all posters: a life-size replica of that really camp bloke from ‘The Thin Blue Line’. The guests were confused by this.

“Kheh heh heh heh! You are a Gaylord!” laughed Olympiakos.

“Do you reeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaliiiiiiiiiise that alllllllllllllllll your posters are of men?” asked Ieuian.

“Dear me.” said Tad, as he fainted. He was from Hampshire and had never seen anything as un-fierce as this before.

Jimmy was not happy at these comments. “Oooh. Boo hoo. I don’t like the tone on you nasty boys. You can all just get out and find your own rooms. Here’s the keys!” he sulked as he threw a bunch of keys at Olympiakos’ head, causing a fracture to his skull. Not that he noticed. “Now shut that door!”

What Jimmy didn’t realise was that he had also thrown the key to his own room at Olympiakos. Aled picked up the keys and found the one for room six, which Jimmy had given him. Whether or not you read anything into this is your choice. He then gave the keys Liz, who showed everybody else to their rooms. Recky was salivating over Olympiakos’ muscles and Faniella was busy preparing to tell everybody about it. Olympiakos put Tad on his bed, attempting to regain his fierceness after some rest. The others found their rooms and the staff returned downstairs, although Recky had to be coaxed into it by Faniella, who told her that a good-looking young man was in the dining room. She could tell ’em.

There was a problem though. Aled was most unhappy with the furniture in his room. He had noticed that Jimmy had a nicer bed than him, and he preferred the curtains in Tad’s room. As quick as a flash, he rushed into Tad’s room and swapped the curtains with his own. Tad was beginning to regain consciousness, and, hearing Olympiakos coming back from his room fifty yards down the corridor, Aled hit Tad, knocked him out again, and scarpered. He then dismantled his bed and crept, carrying it, to Jimmy’s room. Music was playing loudly. Aled opened the door, unheard under the sound of ‘The Best Of Erasure’. Jimmy was dancing and miming in front of his heart-shaped wall mirror, using a girl’s hairbrush as a microphone.

Aled swapped the beds without Jimmy noticing, as he was in full flow with ‘Give A Little Respect To Me.’ Aled now had all of the best furniture, which he considered vital. Downstairs, where the smell of Phillth’s recipe was lingering foully in the air, Recky stood at the dining room entrance, gazing wildly at Joey. He turned and spotted her. “Show as yer tits then!” he shouted at her. “I’m a Landanah!” Recky was thrilled that Joey wanted to see her prized assets, and she walked towards him in a daze.


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© 1999 Vance Productions. Blue Hotel is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed herein are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead is purely coincidental. It really is. Blue Hotel™ tubby toys are now available by mail order from VanceProductions. All subscriptions taken by @DVANCE™ direct debit.