The McShandy Quiz

This is not Mr and Mrs McShandy

Until Friday, in a bizarre bid to court your attention and amuse myself, I’ll be posting a quotation from a novel. It is an obscure novel. I find the quotes funny. This is a game of two thirds. Firstly: please post what you think the next lines should be after each installment. Thenly, prepare your answer for the name of the novel in question and post it after Sunday’s sermon. Thriceforthwise, I will reveal the novel with a bit of a story round about it, like a tall Ronnie Corbett with no love of golf, and award a Prize. Of a bookish nature. Honestly, it’s not just a paperback I’m throwing out anyway. And my judgement of the winner will be based not on truth but wit. So here is Quote One – (ahem) –

“The wild incredible see-sawing went on. Over the curve of her shoulder he saw that a picture, a painting of an Alpine scene, clung unmoving to the wall. Incredible and absurd. Her face moved up to his, the warm lips pressed and opened. Let the world end.”



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3 responses to “The McShandy Quiz

  1. John

    …Let the walls crumble. Let the painting clatter into a sea of musli. Let her mouth keep opening. Let him plunge into the absurd depth of her gape. Her teeth probing over his teeth. Nibbling and biting. Till his head began to spin. The carousel of their entwined limbs, whirling to incredible speeds. Ever faster, ever wilder. Drawing them together. Forcing them apart. Thinning them to mere essences. Till all that remained was a soft pink ring of candyfloss, coating the solid silence of the walls.

  2. “Christ, aren’t you done yet?” moaned Heidi.
    “I’m doing my best,” Peter wheezed and redoubled his efforts; he was not as young as he used to be. His mind drifted back the years to when they first met. He remembered the goats he had herded as a boy and with one mighty thrust he was done. He collapsed on top of her struggling for breath in the thin air.
    “Was it good for you?” he finally gasped.
    “Yeah, sure, whatever.” She pushed him off and began to dress. “I’ve got to go. My shift starts in an hour.”
    “I thought you were talking about quitting? I thought you said you were sick to your back teeth of cuckoo clocks”
    “And do what? Lounge around all day like you watching old episodes of Eurotrash? Someone’s got to bring home the bacon.”
    Peter glared at her: “It’s not my fault the goat-herding business is in decline.”
    “Fine, fine. I don’t have time for this. At least you could run the Hoover over the carpet before I get back and maybe put of the trash.”

  3. John Fagan

    He suddenly tasted a lump of sick and blew it out his lips. She recoiled in horror as he fell out the bed and landed on the wooden floor.

    “Help me Cherie, I’m dying, I’m dying,” he said with mouthfuls of a dark water bursting out his face.

    “I told you, I bloody told you not to have the Phall Curry didn’t I? You never bloody listen to me Anthony,” she said, while getting dressed. “If this marriage is to last, you need to start doing as your bloody well told.”

    He got to his feet and staggered into the white light of the bathroom. This was turning out to be some honeymoon.

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