Though the East End (or Hexham Massive, East Side, as I like to think of it, with gangsta hand gestures and rapper gesticulations) is not quite a suburbia of Desperate Housewives proportions, it isn't far off. No white picket fence borders our abode - we only do twee ironically, and would definitely not be able to cope with the upkeep of such a wholesome garden accessory - yet a dark, secretive past lingers around these parts just as it does on Wisteria Lane. Apparently.
Back in the day (and I am not sure as to the exact date of this legendary 'day') the residence of Woodside Villas were known, rather wittily, as the Woodside Villains. Which adds adventure and theatricality to our somewhat reserved street.
The divulger of this information (written in blood on thick parchment by way of a scratchy quill, folded and sealed with ruby red molten wax, and arrived through my window attached to the leg of a carrier pigeon) did not care to elaborate as to how we were villainous however.
I like to think it was due to the nightly raucus flapper parties, wild drunken orgies, the rampant espionage, blackmail, and cloak and dagger goings on, and the enthusiastic twirling of our dark moustaches.
Of course, it could be nothing to do with the rather disastrous shindig of five years ago, when rivers of vomit ran in our drives, paint splattered the walls and carpets like the aftermath of a gory murder scene, windows were smashed, and high heel shoes spiked through table tops. Heaven forbid.
Alas, I feel the heyday of the notorious Woodside Villains, when they reigned supreme over these dark and shadowy parts, may be over. Though the banter over constructing the herb patch can border on villainous when the heat of the sun burns through the gathering clouds. Boos and hisses follow Ma and Pa as they swish their dark velvet cloaks, and scheme over fennel seeds.
I hope the villain is merely lurking, hatching evil and dastardly plans, and plotting an epic return to these mean streets in the near future. The Villas were meant for Villains!
2 comments:
And there was the boy who lived at the top who tied his sister to one of the trees in our garden - a dastardly villain to be sure.........
NOT N - SOMETHING WENT WRONG THERE - IT WAS ME - YER MA
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