Bargain of a lifetime?

[battyone]

Thoroughly enjoyable, very reminiscent of Sheds of Grey.

[Airsporterman]

And they all lived happily ever after - that is...except for the mint boxed Airsporter Mk1 that is!





Airsporterman

[Airsporterman]

Good story mate - you should be on the stage!










Next one out of town that is!

Airsporterman

[SRV1]

Good story mate - you should be on the stage!










Next one out of town that is!

Airsporterman

Many thanks! But, let this be a warning to all of us compulsive collectors suffering from GAS.

If it is too good to be true, it may be true!!!

Shame about that Airsporter Mk1 - it really was mint........

[uason-m]

i9mmense nookie !>>great wurk svri

[SRV1]

…..The next day, with excited anticipation, I removed the scorched Jack Pike from the Honda and retired to the garage. I cleared the bench of the Eclipse hacksaw and the sawn off handcuffs from yesterdays eventful time, brushing away the metal swarfe. I removed the boxed, mint Webley pistol from the poacher’s pocket and proudly, despite I had stolen it, put the box on the bench. I wondered which model Webley pistol it could be, as yesterday, I randomly grabbed what I could during the panic to leave….. My heart pounding, I slowly opened the lid; what!!??.....What the hell? There were dozens of family photographs, I can’t believe it! The Airsporter Mk1, and now this…..I couldn't believe my bad luck after all I had been through. Lump in my throat and a horrible empty sickly gut feeling, I was devastated…..Hang on, hey, hang on a minute; these are no family photographs….. I recognise a familiar four-poster, the beautiful lady, the oak bedside cabinet, the Johnson’s Baby Oil, the orange coloured 500ml can of Neatsfoot oil…. .Who and why are these men, some with distinguishing features and some with elaborate tattoos, doing in bed with my princess? They must collectors of the air-gun kind? Surely, there can’t be that many air gun collectors suffering the GAS syndrome and are as naïve as me?

Side Note:
Please, any air-gun collectors out there who think they have been scammed by this elaborate hoax, send me a description of themselves, with any distinguishing features, better still, a photograph, along with a list of their collections, we may be able to come to some sort of an arrangement……..Fortunately for me, my photograph got destroyed in that log fire……

Six months later:……………….

[battyone]

It gets better!!!
Top read,the anticipation is murder.

[walnutfarmmick]

It gets better!!!
Top read,the anticipation is murder.

You're so right! I save the next instalment until I've read all the other threads.

ATVB, Mick

[SRV1]

…..With not a cloud in the sky it was a beautiful warm and sunny spring Sunday, a perfect day for riding my “old girl”. Zipping up my knee length black polished Medway leather boots, and slipping on my waxed Belstaff Trialmaster, I opened the garage door. I whipped the cotton sheet off her, removed the chipped white enamel bowl from under her as she is incontinent and tend to leak a lot. I wheeled her outside to the driveway and put her on her side stand. Her black paintwork and polished alloy gleaming in the sun, I was going to ride my 1947 rigid framed Matchless G3L to the Leisure Sports Gun Auction in Llandeilo…….Hopefully, it would be a pleasant journey, about 20 miles west to Carmarthen and another fifteen north west to Llandeilo.

I checked her tyres and brakes and main chain, all seemed good. I opened the “pie-crust” filler cap on the petrol tank, rocking her gently to check petrol….Mmmm that blasted ethanol is further disintegrating the sealant in the tank – it will have to do for now – and screwed the cap back on, out of sight, out of mind!. Likewise, I unscrewed the other “pie-crust” cap off the oil tank, level a bit low as she “wet-sumps” but, l am sure she will pump it back, I have no time to drain the sump as I would like to get there early and have Sunday lunch before the auction begins. I don’t bother to check the lights made by Joe Lucas; the infamous Prince of Darkness, as I will be back home long before darkness sets in. I check the horn, a bit feeble, I know the battery doesn’t get charged very well and I need to check the dynamo. I have been putting it off for some time as the dynamo is not easy to get at, needing the inner and outer primary chaincases and clutch dismantling to get at it. Satisfied she is in a position to ride; I turn on the Ewarts petrol tap and tickle the old Amal carb. I never bother with the choke; it never seems to make any difference to starting her from cold. Retarding the ignition lever a touch, I bring her up to compression on the kick-start, easing her slightly over with the decompression lever; I gave her the first kick – nothing! Second kick; she spits back through the Amal. A touch more retard and another tickle and she is happy!

Life couldn’t be better as we chugged along. Now and again, the smell of Castrol R40 wafted into my nostrils with a slight westerly tail wind as we stopped at junctions. I’m addicted to the stuff; I add about an eggcup full to a full tank of petrol…….Hardly any traffic, it was a joy to ride her, she never missed a beat and I patted her tank in approval. The spring green fields, the sun glinting on the River Towy as we passed through the Towy Valley. The events of six months ago were far long gone, just a distant memory. I would never, ever again fall for the charms of a most beautiful woman who was part of an elaborate scam……..I was on my way to a pleasurable experience in Llandeilo, ……

[Charlie Brown]

A thoroughly entertaining read while eating lunch. Thank you.

Charlie.

[SRV1]

A thoroughly entertaining read while eating lunch. Thank you.

Charlie.

You are most welcome. Some of the story is true....I leave it to you to work out which parts!!!???

Best regards to all....

[charlie1]

SRV1 you must have been a very very big fan of les dawson.

[SRV1]

SRV1 you must have been a very very big fan of les dawson.

No, not Les Dawson. I enjoyed Spike Milligan and Dave Allen.....

Best regards....

[SRV1]

…….I pulled into the Plough Inn car park with plenty of time for Sunday lunch. Patting the old Matchless tank again for getting me safely here, I parked her up and proceeded to enter the Inn. I was efficiently allocated a table by the smiling waitress who took my order for the Sunday lunch roast beef dinner and a small glass of the “house” red wine. Feeling warm in the cosy inn, I removed my waxed Belstaff jacket and hung it on the back of my chair, placing my helmet and gloves under the table out of the way. My wine duly arrived as did many diners; it was getting busier by the minute.

I was tucking into my meat and two veg as well as roast potatoes and a rather large Yorkshire pudding when I was aware of someone close by. Excuse me, a female said, do you mind if I join you? Her voice sounded familiar? I looked up, in breathless amazement and shock as she removed her sunglasses..…It was her, my god, it was her! I was totally speechless, stuck for words. She looked as sexy as ever in her tight red revealing dress, those succulent pouting lips. As I rose, nearly knocking my glass of wine over; Please do, I replied excitedly and automatically without thinking, especially as I had been the victim of her and her husbands scam six months ago. I remarked what a very unlikely coincidence, us meeting like this? She said it was no coincidence, she guessed I had a high chance of being in Llandeilo for the gun auction as: One; it is in my interest as a collector not to miss such an event. Two; as the auction venue is not too far away from where I live. Three; as the auction is held infrequently, therefore, the chances of us meeting were favourable and only less than a handful of inns in Llandeilo….I am still in shock, with head spinning, wondering her intentions. After some small talk, she told me that her husband had died two months ago….No, no, no, I am not falling that again, you set me up something rotten, no, no, no. I am not going to be ever so stupid and so naïve again, ever!

Please listen, and let me finish what I was going to say, she said in that soft persuading voice of hers. I have copy of his death certificate and the SAGA Life Insurance payout document in my handbag. The coroner concluded that he died of lead poisoning brought about by his compulsive and obsessive hobby. She whispered, bringing her head closer to mine; remember the cabinet with the collection of Webley pistols? How could I forget? I snapped back. She continued,……and the cupboard below the drawers that contained many tins of pellets? Well, there’s not so many left now, she said with a wink……..She sure was a very attractive woman I thought, with the hint of dangerous excitement that made her irresistible.

Oh, she said, I see that you have motorcycle clothes, did you ride here? Only for the gun auction, I said, in a stupid school boy smut way. How exciting, she remarked, do you ride often? Not as much as I would like…….

You have that glazed look in your eyes, she teased, just like when we first met! Why don’t you visit me soon and share a Semillon or two, you never got to see his collection of veteran and vintage motorcycles did you?

Blissfully engaged in deep meaningful conversation, unaware the cacophony of the restaurant had evaporated and we were the only two people remaining, I looked at my watch, hell, the gun auction had finished and it was getting dark….I didn't care any more……


The End


(…..at last…..)

[dingle]

brilliant
what more can i say