David Sky: a short story



The Exiled Preacher's pet monkey, David Sky had found romance in the isles of the local Co-Op store. He lost his heart to Bathsheba Earth, a beautiful (at least to him) girl monkey. It seemed too good to be true, but thankfully, life is sometimes like that.

David was on the run from Taffia Don, Dai Corleone. But his thoughts were now so full of love and happiness that the obsessive terror that had once dominated his life, the fear of being caught by the Don's  henchmen had all but evaporated. He began to get careless. Sky stopped glancing behind him to see if he was being followed. He would boldly stride around street corners where once he had paused to see if anyone might be lurking in darkened shop doorways, waiting to nab him and drag him back to Corleone's lair.

But something happened to reawaken his old neuroses. He had arranged to meet Bathsheba at the Co-Op's fruit aisle, near the bananas one Wednesday afternoon at 4.30pm sharp. Eager to see his true love, he left home a little earlier than was necessary. But there was Bathsheba, waiting for him. As he got closer, David could see that she was speaking to someone on her mobile. She was so absorbed in the conversation that she didn't notice David approaching. On hearing his cheery voice greeting her, Bathsheba suddenly broke off the call, trying her best not to seem flustered. When he asked who she was speaking to, the girl monkey sounded evasive. She even seemed a little cross at his intrusiveness, an emotion he had not seen in her before.

David Sky wondered what it all could mean. Was she two-timing him perhaps? Or worse, could it really be that their assignations were part of an elaborate honey trap devised by Dai Corlene to ensnare him? These thoughts troubled the poor monkey's mind. He needed no Iago to stoke the towering flames of jealousy. But his jealous rage was as nothing when compared with the rampant paranoia that now engulfed his soul. Every customer he laid eyes on in the Co-Op, however innocent looking, was viewed a suspected Taffia Goodfella, ready and waiting to pounce.

Heartbroken and  terrified, David Sky turned from Bathsheba Earth and hurriedly made his way home. Perfect fear had cast out love. The monkey was last seen leaving the brightly lit shop and heading out into the gathering gloom of a damp winter's afternoon. Whether he will make it to the sanctuary of the Exiled Preacher's study has yet to be seen. There seems little hope of a happy ending to this story. But hope, no matter how slender and fragile, is better than the empty despair of having no hope at all.

Everybody's got something to hide except me and my monkey

I appreciate that more recent readers of this blog may find this a bit random and confusing, but every now and again I like to give a little update on the adventures of my pet monkey, failed theology blogger David Sky. Last time I reported on his daring escape from the Taffia don Dai Corleone (see here). But what has he been up to since then? The truth is nothing much. At least that's what I thought. I should have known that he'd been up to something because he's been smiling a bit lately and that's not normal for someone who has to spend most of his life in a dusty corner of my study. Anyway, it transpires that he's only gone and fallen in love. Yes, you did read that right. It wasn't a typo. David Sky has fallen in love. Here's how I got to find out:

GD: What are you looking so happy for?

DS: I'm not looking happy.

GD: Yes you are.

DS: Am I?

GD: Yes.

DS: Doesn't mean that I am.

GD: Something's up isn't it?

DS: Like what?

GD: I dunno, but you must be up to something.

DS: Who, me?

GD: Who else?

DS: I haven't been naughty, honest.

GD: Why else would you be so cheerful?

DS: Well, it isn't that.

GD: What is it then?

DS: Can't say.

GD: Got something to hide have you?

DS: Of course not.

GD: Tell me!

DS: No!

GD: I'm not interested anyway.

DS: Oh.

Five rather awkward and silent minutes later...

GD: C'mon, you can tell me. We're mates aren't we?

DS: Yes...but...

GD: But what?

DS: Well, it's like this. Promise not to laugh now.

GD: I'm a trained pastor. You know that whatever you tell me, however embarrassing, I promise not to laugh.

DS: I'm in love.

GD: What? You're "in love"? Ha, ha, ha, ha! Who's the unfortunate female?

DS: You said you wouldn't laugh!

GD: Yes, but I didn't know that you'd come up with something like that.

DS: No, really, I'm in love.

GD: OK. Who is she. How did you meet?

DS: Well, we kind of bumped into each other a few weeks ago when I was stocking up on tea bags at the local CO-OP shop. Now we contrive to meet in the tea aisle almost every day.

GD: I was wondering why we had so many packets of tea bags in the cupboard. What's her name?

DS: Bathsheba Earth

GD: Interesting name. I didn't know that there were any other talking monkeys around these parts, let alone a female.

DS: Nor did I. I couldn't believe my little monkey eyes when I first saw her. It was love at first sight.

GD: Does she feel the same?

DS: I think so.

GD: This could be serious. Hang on a minute. Did you really just say that it was love at first sight for her too.

DS: Yes, why?

GD: Looked at yourself in the mirror lately?

DS: What's that supposed to mean?

GD: Look, this might not be all that it seems. Bathsheba might be working for Dai Corleone. This could be a honey trap.

DS: What? You think she's going to lure me into the honey isle at CO-OP and pour that horrible sticky stuff all over me so that my fur will get glued to the floor?

GD: No. What I mean is that Dai Corleone could be using her to get to you. He wants you to follow her and then he'll nab you and you'll end up making tea for the Taffia again.

DS: That sounds a bit far fetched.

GD: And you think meeting up with a talking monkey girl who instantly falls in love with you is well within the realms of credibility?

DS: Stranger things have happened. Someone married you didn't they?

GD: Alright, alright. I hope you are right and this is genuine. But be careful, your girl could could be a Taffia femme fatale.

DS: What does that mean?

GD: It's French for "fatal female".

DS: But she isn't French.

GD: You're probably alright then.

But is he? You'll just have to wait and see....

The Monkey Returns

Lots of readers, well one or two of them have been pestering me for an update on what's been happening to David Sky, my runaway pet monkey. "Enough of the theology" they say, "where's the monkey?" So here is an exclusive Exiled Preacher 'Christmas Special' featuring the errant primate. It has been some time since the mischievous monkey left home to join the Taffia (the much feared Welsh Mafia for the uninitiated). Strangely, I haven't missed the cheeky monkey one bit, but we decided to meet up for old time's sake. I asked the monkey about his new life in the mob. Here's a transcript of our conversation:

EP: Is life in the Taffia what you expected? Does the seedy glamour and violence suit you?

DS: Well, it isn't quite like that.

EP: But I thought that's why you left the confines of my 'boring study'.

DS: It was, but Dai Corleone, the great Taffia Godfather has enough henchmen. He needs me for a more specialised and dangerous task.

EP: Which is?

DS: Actually it involves concocting a unique solution to the Don's exacting standards using a highly hazardous liquid.

EP: You mean he's got you making the tea, white with two sugars using very dangerous hubbly bubbly boiling water?

DS: You're so wrong.... he doesn't even take sugar. Doh!

EP: So, you are a tea boy then?

DS: That's what you might call it. But things are going to be different from now on.

EP: Wants you to make coffee now as well does he?

DS: No. I'm going to be a star.

EP: As in a Christmas tree decoration type star? You'd be good at that.

DS: No, no, no. I mean a showbiz star. My name in lights. Fame and fortune.

EP: Are you deluded?

DS: No, straight up. The Don was so pleased with my beverage making skills that he said, "Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Sky?" I said, "Yes, I'd like to be a proper mobster, roughing people up and that." He said, "Look, that 'ain't gonna happen. Is there anything else?"

EP: What did you say?

DS: I told him that I wanted to be a showbiz star in an all-singing, all-dancing musical.

EP: What, you?

DS: Yes what's wrong with that?

EP: Well, you cant sing and you can't dance for starters.

DS: That doesn't matter. The Don can fix it. He'll make them an offer they can't refuse.

EP: Will he now?

DS: Too right. Look, I've been thinking. I saw something on the telly about the new big musical, Monkey: Journey into the West, written by that bloke from Blurred - Damon Allbran or something. They've only gone and cast a human being dressed up as a monkey in the starring role. I could bring some needed authenticity to the part.

EP: Like because you're a knitted monkey with real synthetic stuffing?

DS: At least I am a monkey.

EP: I'll give you that. But did you know that the whole thing is sung in Mandarin?

DS: What's the problem? I can sing while eating a little Orange.

EP: No, I mean Mandarin Chinese.

DS: Oh, but it wasn't in Chinese when Monkey was on TV in the 80's.

EP: That's because they dubbed it in English. Remember how the actor's lips would move like crazy, but only a few English words would come out? They didn't sync it properly.

DS: I thought that's just how they spoke on the show. I've been practicing doing that lots of lip, few words thing in front of the mirror. I'm really good at it now.

EP: I'm sure you are, but it won't do, will it?

DS: You think they might notice if I didn't sing in Chinese then?

EP: Afraid so. Not even the terrible Taffia can fix this one for you.

DS: But I could have been great, a legend of the stage.

EP: Well you'll just have to settle for being a tea boy for Mr. Corleone. Unless, that is you'd like to come home...

DS: I don't know about that. Let me think. Oh, alright. Life away from the 'boring study' wasn't all that it was cracked up to be anyway. It'll be nice to be back for Christmas.

EP: Promise you'll behave this time, no monkey business?

DS: You know me, Exiled. I'll be good, honest!

And so ends this heartwarming Christmas tale of peace and reconciliation. But will David Sky, that naughtiest of monkeys be able to keep his promise of good behaviour? We'll just have to see won't we?

Dai Corleone vs David Sky

The Don Dia Corleone's beloved daughter Blodwyn was married at last. She was 42, and what with her being no oil painting, few expected that she would ever get hitched. But she fell for some unsuspecting fella, and daddy sent the boys round to make him an offer he couldn't refuse. Next thing he knew, poor Owen Llewellyn had asked to Blodwyn to be his wife. She gleefully accepted his somewhat ambivalent proposal. Owen's parents never did understand why they were taken hostage one Thursday afternoon only to be released to find that their boy was going to be the husband of Blodwyn Corleone. "But I thought he liked Sally Williams from no. 74.", said his bemused mother. It was the Welsh society wedding of the year. After the ceremony, the festivities began. The Cwl Cymru glitterati descended on the Don's place en masse. Everyone was there; Gavin and Charlotte, Tom Jones, the Stereophonics, Rhodri Morgan and that goat that marches with the military band before rugby matches at the Millennium Stadium.

While the happy couple (well Blodwyn was happy anyway) danced away to the strains of Delilah and the party was in full swing, the Don retreated to his office. Worried looking men were ushered into Mr. Corleone's presence to pay their respects to the big man. Then David Sky arrived. No one knows how he got there. He certainly wasn't invited. But the old monkey was fed up with being the Exiled Preacher's pet. He wanted glamour and violence and how better to get that than join the Taffia mob?

Sky sauntered into the holding room where the Don's men kept a watchful eye on those who were about to be given an audience with the Godfather. He felt a bit out of place wearing a "PG Tips" T-shirt, while the other gents were dressed in dark double breasted suits. But what he lacked in sartorial elegance, he more than made up for with attitude and swagger. He blagged his way into the Don's inner sanctum. It was make or break time. This is what they had to say:

DC: Hey you, whaddya doin here?

DS: I'd like to join the Taffia.

DC: Oh yeah?

DS: Yes, that's right.

DC: Well, we'll see about that.

DS: Oh good!

DC: What?

DS: That's great, I didn't think it would be quite so easy to join the mob.

DC: Are you kiddin?

DS: Me, a kitten? No, I'm a monkey actually?

DC: I said kiddin - jokin, not kiddin as in cat, stupid!

DS: Sorry! You speak kind of mumbly.

DC: You talkin' to me?

DS: I can't see anyone else in the room.

DC: What?

DS: Never mind. The thing is that I'd like to join the Taffia. I think I could be really useful to you.

DC: How exactly?

DS: Well I'm a bit of a rough, tough bad lad.

DC: Now ya talkin. Whaddya done?

DS: For starters, I survived being crushed by The Drama of Docrine. Then I went to school with my old boss' daughter and bit a kid. Once I got stuck up a Christmas tree. If you want anyone "taught a lesson", I'm your monkey.

DC: You survived being crushed by The Drama of Doctrine? Really?

DS: Yes, sure.

DC: That's heavy stuff. I'm gonna have to think about this.

DS: Please let me join. I'm fed up with that boring old Exiled Preacher and his dusty books. I want glamour and danger. I'll get a double breasted suit and a violin case with a Tommy Gun inside and everything.

DC: You began life in a box of tea bags right?

DS: Er, yes. But what's that got to do with it?

DC: I think I may be able to use a guy like you. You're hired.

DS: That's cool. Now, who do you want me to send sleeping with the fishes?

DC: If you started off as a tea monkey, then you should be able to make a good cuppa. Mine's white with no sugar. Four times a day, 8am, 11am, 1pm and 3.30pm. If you don't make it right then you'll be sleeping with the fishes! Geddit?

So, David Sky left the comfort and security of the Exiled Preacher's study for the excitement and danger of Dai Corleone's lair and ended up as a terrified tea boy. The sky's the limit eh? Couldn't happen to a nicer monkey.

Introducing the Taffia

Dai Corleone

In his comments on the Carl Trueman interview here, Derek Thomas makes some veiled threats against the disrespectful Englishman. He invokes the much feared Welsh Mafioso, "The Taffia". Well, the Don, Dai Corleone himself has recently entered the world of blogging, so you'd better watch out: The Godfather is it?