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Sunday, 14 June 2026

Michael the April Fool

Michael The April Fool

this is from 1998 and was the inspiration to the ending of chapter One of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker which is on this site. and yes it really happened.

Michael G Casey email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com

Michael the April Fool (c)

By Michael Casey

It was Thursday , Maundy Thursday and the company was finishing early for the Bank Holiday weekend , we were also celebrating winning an award , so Easter eggs and Champagne were on offer . It was also April Fools Day , but that was mostly forgotten . I’d been asked to take photographs , as I was known as the “In-house Papperatzi” , so take photos I did . Then I got instantly pissed on the Champagne , because I just cannot handle alcohol , one whiff and I’m drunk , normally I drink shandy , so free champagne just went straight to my head . However I was still able to take some nice photos for the company’s records , some say the camera is surgically attached to me , and perhaps its true . Derek the boss topped up my drink saying at the same time “I think you’ve had enough already” , and he was right .

Collecting my coat from the computer room I danced down the 3 flights of stairs and made my way towards the pub , it was a holiday after all . Everybody was in O’Neils the Irish pub which was 150 yards around the corner from our office , when The Fox opened in an hour we’d move on to it , the beer was cheaper and stronger there , but for an hour we’d hang around O’Neils . As luck would have it Derek the boss was getting a round in as I queued to buy myself a drink , so he was more or less “bounced” into buying me a shandy , its always nice to make the boss buy you a pint , minutes earlier he was pouring me champagne and giving me an Easter egg , and now he was buying me a pint . I could almost forgive the company for making me redundant . So pint in hand I joined the others and sat down at a table , before opening my Easter egg and eating it , the Smarties eggs are very nice.

Everybody was as usual disgusted at my eating habits , chocolate was soon smeared around my face , I looked like a 4 year old , a 40 year old 4 year old!

When I’d finished the egg and my pint of shandy I got up to buy the lads a drink , the barman was busy so I started waving at him as I usually do , he still ignored me so I switched from waving to giving a Papal Blessing with my fingers , this made a girl on a stool next to the bar laugh. “Thats unusual,” she said , so while waiting to be served we got talking . She had blacky/redy hair , and nice eyes so naturally I was attracted to her , even though her boyfriend was sitting next to her.

But as usual as I was pissed I ignored the simple fact , “never chat up another man’s girlfriend if her boyfriend is sitting next to her” , however I continued , I even asked

“are you the boyfriend then ?” To which the man replied indignantly “Certainly not , I’m Bent” , so he was gay and not the boyfriend . So I turned my back on him , now that I knew it was safe and continued afresh talking to her .

I finally got served , so I handed out the pints before staying at the bar to talk to the girl . She was a chef with short finger nails , so that the food didn’t get stuck under them , it was a food hygiene thing . The really interesting thing was that she was an artist , she said she painted Aliens , I immediately thought of Ian , why Ian , well we all think he looks like an alien , with his high cheekbones and slanty eyes . All this shandy was making me very happy , and I needed a piss , so I went to the gents . While I was away the girl and her “bent” friend breathed a sigh of relief . When I came back Kate , that was her name , started to hold my hand and squeeze it . I told her to stop because I was enjoying it too much . As for me I started to tell her that she was pretty but she could do with a comb , as her hair was a mess .

She loudly replied she’d only just finished work and got out of the kitchen , how dare I . I just carried on regardless , next I said she had nice teeth but a bit like tombstones . To which she replied “Yours are nice , are they your own or have you had them capped.” To which I replied that I drunk lots of milk , probably 1 or 2 litres a day . My mother always said she should have bought a cow it would have kept the grass down in the garden and she’d have enough milk for me .And still I was admiring her eyes , and she was shaking and squeezing my hand , and both of us were getting tipsy , her “bent” friend as he had called himself had gone away , and left us to it . I have to admit that my drunken lust had been awakened by now .

I returned from the gents , Antoinette her gay friend had returned , and a couple of other obviously gay people came along to kiss/and say their hellos . One a big man in a leather jacket , also called Michael turned out to be a photographer . Antoinette was trying to persuade Kate to let Michael photo her and/or her work , to be honest I was too pissed to quite remember what was going on , two shandies on top of the champagne had left me pissed . Then Kate said she wasn’t a real woman , she was in fact a trans-sexual , she’d been born a man , and was now a woman . So I squeezed her hand , and then her thigh , she was on a stool in front of me , so her thigh was right in front of me . “I don’t believe you , you feel like a woman , if my memory serves me ,” I said repeatedly as I squeezed her thigh , no doubt leaving masses of bruises . Then Kate said that when she was 7 in Ireland it was decided to convert her , if thats the word , from a boy into a girl . I laughed nervously when I heard this , still squeezing her thigh . Antoinette chipped in with the wonders of modern surgery . I laughed nervously , had I spent 30 mins chatting up a “man” , I just couldn’t believe it .

“Well I’ll be damned,” I said laughing manically .Again I squeezed her hand and her thigh . “Do you bleed , can you have children ?” was my next drunken question . Logic and alcohol are not good bedfellows . This must have been a question too far , “It is April the First, after all ,” said Antoinette still straight faced. “You’ve been pulling my leg,” I slurred .They both rolled their eyes , I really was a total prat , a total idiot . I was Michael the April fool . Then Kate added that she was asexual , as much interest in sex as a block of wood , so I had been wasting my time all along , despite being made a fool of . The lads were now heading for the Fox , so it was time to leave . So I kissed Kate goodbye , on the lips , her lips were woman’s lips , what a relief , or was I mistaken ?

- November 17, 2017

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The Spaceman and The Arch-Angel

The Spaceman and The Arch-Angel Michael Casey < michaelgcasey@gmail.com > 21:40 (4 minutes ago) to webmaster , info-japanhouse , in...

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michaelgcasey: https://anchor.fm/michael-casey1 IS MY PODCASTI'm Michael Casey from Birmingham England, the fat silver haired writer in shades. MY 3,172,483 WORD plus IP is for sale Beware of Others with the EXACT SAME NAME, they are not me, and would not want to be me ...I've done loads of writing, 3,000,000 Words worth over 37 years nowBut before I started I LISTENED to BBC Radio 4 for 20 years, from the age of 10 or youngerFrank Brown our lodger, went back to County Tyrone and he gifted us his Bush Radio55 years in love with words, and I still look so dashing.I have a picture in the attic, just like Dorian GrayI've also had an interest in Politics for 50 yearswith my dad heckling the tv and Politicians.I also suffer various illnesses including Tinnitus which is not a Roman lover, just lots of hiss, a whirlwind HORRENDOUS , and CHRONIC PAIN mainly left shoulder. ckd and quadruple heart bypass as well, I collect diseasesContact michaelgcasey@hotmail.com to talk, no scammers required.

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The Spaceman and The Arch-Angel

Michael Casey michaelgcasey@gmail.com

21:40 (4 minutes ago)

to webmaster, info-japanhouse, info, info, Inc., jeff, jeff, Sony, info, koho, Obama, desk_repubblica.it, kokusai, univ_7

The Spaceman and The Arch-Angel ©

By Michael Casey

Mikhail Mikhailovich was a spaceman, a cosmonaut as the Russians call them, he’d been in space forever, he held the world record already, he was testing himself to see if Man could make it to Mars. He and Tim Peake had had a lot of fun in the space station, but now Tim was gone. So Mikhail was lonely, in fact Mikhail was having a dark night of the soul, flying high in the sky orbiting the world. He was on the edge, but bear a bear of a man he told nobody, if only his wife Katarina was with him to make him strong, but he was floating in space and she was back in Saint Petersburg.

Michael the Arch-Angel had just pushed back Satan back into Hell and had sealed the gates with a pair of Rosary beads, now he was taking Mrs Murphy’s soul back to her body, he was in a hurry before her body died without her soul inside. At Saint Michael the Arch-Angel flew in space with Mrs Murphy’s soul safely tucked in his belt by his sword he felt Mikhail’s sorrow. So much sorry, he flew as fast as he could fly towards to space station, a soul was in danger, the space station was in danger, a man’s life and soul was in danger. Mikhail was on the verge of thinking of doing something mad bad and sad. Michael felt this and as an angel he must intervene, he spiralled directly towards the space station, he went straight inside and grabbed Mikhail’s arm.

An angel does not need to use doors, the spirit just walks through walls even in space, love knows no boundaries, and an angel is just that, love. Saint Michael the Arch-Angel gave Mikhail a bear-hug and nearly broke his ribs. Mikhail screamed in fear, Michael just laughed in his face and said he screamed like a little girl, was he going to pee his pants as an encore. Mikhail rubbed his eyes, there was angel in front of him, speaking Russian, in fact he sounded like his own old grandfather, with the same local accent.

I could punch your lights out, but I’m an angel so let’s talk, have you got any beer, my wings are tired I need a beer, asked the angel. Mikhail laughed, where do we have the room for a barrel of beer in a space station? The angel reached behind him and two pints of Stella Artois appeared in chalices, so Mikhail took one and drank it, after such a long time in space it was heavenly to say the least. So Mikhail and the angel had 4 pints each, which is enough to wet their whistle if they were both Russian. Mikhail wasn’t scared any more, if this was a dream he was going to enjoy it. He’d love a big sandwich of Russian beef and bread with lettuce and tomatoes, so once more Saint Michael reached behind him and the sandwiches appeared. Is Paul Daniels behind you joked Mikhail, Tim the English spaceman had told Mikhail about Paul Daniels during his time on the space station. No replied the angel, but God is behind me, and in front of me and in all directions too, he has my back, and your’s too, that’s why I’m saving you.

Mikhail, looked at his feet, he’d felt a failure, he could have, but he didn’t, an angel had saved him. Michael the Archangel gave him another pint of Stella Artois, Paul Daniels was working overtime you could say. Why were you in space anyway asked Mikhail. I was returning a soul to a body, Mrs Murphy was risking her soul to save the life of her priest, or rather the soul of her priest. That’s when Satan pounced, so I had to give him a kicking, and then mum asked we to return Mrs Murphy’s soul to her body, before her body expired. Mum who is your mum? Mary is my mum, she’s everybody’s mum, she prefers to be called ”mum” it’s the highest title of all. Mikhail Mikhailovich started to cry, so Michael wiped his nose with his wings.

I wish I could be a father but being in the space program has put paid to that, I am a hero of Mother Russia, but my own wife cannot be a mother, we will never know the joy of children. Mikhail cried again, the angel gave him a huge hug, almost breaking the spaceman’s ribs and Mikhail’s face turned bright red due to lack of oxygen. A tear fell from the angel’s eye, it trickled down his face and splashed Mrs Murphy’s soul, this was enough for Mrs Murphy she was saying the Rosary in a nanosecond. Her body was dead by now, but at least she could pray for the spaceman.

Michael and Mikhail had some fresh fruit, bananas and grapes, washed down with more Stella Artois. Mikhail unburdened himself to the angel, all his hopes and dreams, being a spaceman was the last of them. Tim had told Mikhail about David Bowie and the two of them had put the face makeup on and sung the songs. Now Tim was gone and Mikhail missed him, but most of all Mikhail missed something he’d never have. Children. As a child Mikhail loved listening to stories, stories from all over Russia and everywhere else too, but then studying came along.

Saint Michael the Archangel has a secret, he loves stories too, he’s spent ages, literally Ages listening to stories from all over the world. So as they drunk their Stella Artois Michael told Mikhail some of the stories. First in Russian for the Russian stories, then he switched to Chinese for the Chinese stories, Indian for the Indian stories, and Japanese for the Japanese stories. Michael knew thousands of stories in told them all in all the native languages. The food and drink flowed, Paul Daniels really is a great magician, how he hid all of it in the space station ready to save a soul, a Russian spaceman’s soul we’ll never know, perhaps he’s just an angel.

How long would it take to tell tales from all over the world, as long as there is food and drink on the table there will always be tales, and this angel doesn’t follow Logic, only Love. In Earth time 50 years had passed, or was it just a dream? Michael and Mikhail hugged, this time Michael could not breathe and he turned red. Mikhail had been filled with Love, and food and drink thanks to maybe Paul Daniels, so he was a big Russian Bear once more.

You are Mikhail Mikhailovich a Spaceman who did not fall to earth, you are the Storyteller from Space, you are a “father” to billions of children, and to your wife you are the best husband in space and on earth who gave her seven children, angels love the number 7, Snow White really did exist you know, but that’s another story. Mikhail snored, he been dreaming hadn’t he.

Michael flew off into space, for decades he’d been talking to Mikhail, it was a coincidence he’d spotted Mikhail, he thanked God. As Michael looked at his watch, by which I mean the rotation of the stars in space, he realised he’d actually gone back in time by 2.9 nanoseconds. Einstein had been livid when he’d got to Heaven to discover that Time and Relativity was just one of God’s jokes.

Mrs Murphy’s soul was returned to her body, but her 50 years of prayers so that Mikhail could have a family had not been wasted, and as for her priest well that’s another story, Tears for a Butcher by Michael Casey to be exact, if God gives me the time to finish it.

The next night Mikhail said he had a story for all the Russian children, so he told them about the night the angel came to the space station. This was an instant hit all over Mother Russia, it was so funny too, though he had to explain who Paul Daniels was, they liked the story a lot, not a little bit. The Indians wanted to hear the story so could he tell them too, so he did but Mikhail told them in one of the major Indian languages, and as each child hear the story they hear it in the voice of their own grandfather. Japan was next and they were astounded too, not only did know their language but the accent was perfect, Mikhail was like a United Nations, his stories perfectly told demanded silence, followed by tears of joy.

Mikhail spent another month in space, each night he’d tell stories to the world’s children. He was out of this world literally and in all other ways. When it was time for him to return he was an international hero, for science and for story-telling. Putin himself said he drive him from the airport to the Kremlin for a reception. When Mikhail came down the steps from the plane his wife jumped into his arms, Putin was dressed as a chauffeur, the election was next month and he know good PR. The president as servant of the people. Putin did have to close the privacy screen in the Zil because the spaceman started on creating his happy family on the back seat of the Zil limousine.

So Mikhail got what he wanted a big happy Russian family, was the angel right in guessing 7, no he was wrong, Mikhail and his wife only had 3 pregnancies. Three being Mrs Murphy’s favourite number, three sets of triples. Mikhail set up his own Utube station to tell stories to the world’s children, he called it You’ll Like It, a lot. Then his friend Putin suggested he should run for president, so that’s how a spaceman called Mikhail became the President of Russia, because an angel came acalling, twinkle, twinkle.

this is the future if we seize it, no Putin no Trump required

I wrote this pre 2015 Bypass if my memory is accurate