It’s A Miracle

Now, it came to pass that the Prophet Nhigel (may his plums dangle mightily) was on the way back home from the pub one hot summer night when someone’s hedge suddenly caught fire, just where some of Nhigel’s mates had stopped to light their fags.

‘What the bloody hell’s going on here!’ screamed the householder rushing out to see his garden suddenly on the verge of becoming a conflagration.

‘Scarper,’ whispered Steve the Tosser, one of Nhigel’s most devoted mates.

‘No,’ Nhigel said, spreading his arms wide and calming his mates, who were just about to leg it. He turned his beaming smile on the householder. ‘It is a miracle! It is a sign,’ he said. ‘The Skhighhibhoss is speaking to us through this burning hedge.’

‘Wouldn’t a phone call have been easier?’ said Stan the Sceptical, who was immediately apprised of the theologically dubious validity of his statement by Big Paul, Nhigel’s Best Mate, kneeing him in the balls and saying ‘Shut up, you useless twat. Nhigel (May his plums dangle mightily) will get us out of this.’

‘Listen,’ Nhigel was saying to the now perplexed householder. ‘Can’t you hear what the Skhighhibhoss is saying?’ He pointed to the burning hedge and cupped his hand over his ear, nodding and looking respectfully thoughtful.

‘B… B… Bu… but my bloody hedge!’ the householder yelled.

‘Ssshh! Heretic… blasphemer!’ Nhigel’s mates said as they turned as one to face the householder.

‘Can you not hear the Holy words of wisdom the Skhighhibhoss is imparting to us through the medium of this… this… burning hedge?’ said Barry the Tosser, reverently grasping the householder by the neck and squeezing. ‘You do know what happens to those who doubt the word of the Lord, don’t you?’

The householder nodded slowly as best as he could with Barry grasping his neck so tightly. The householder’s face began to turn rather an unusual shade of blue.

‘Some of those stone can come very sharp, you know,’ Barry the Tosser said. ‘Especially if you take careful aim before you throw.’

‘MMMnnnnhh,’ the householder tried to say. Attempting to look holy and pious whilst being choked to death is not that easy, but he tried his best.

‘The Skhighhibhoss is telling us to repent of our blasphemous way,’ Nhigel said to the householder.

‘It’s a miracle!’ yelled Barry the Tosser as he let go of the householder’s neck.

‘Bu… but my bloody hedge?’ the Householder said, rubbing his neck and stepping away from Barry.

‘One… er… slightly singed hedge is but a small price to pay in order to hear the wisdom of the Lord, is it not?’ Nhigel said, stepping forward to loom over the householder. ‘Is it not?’ he repeated.

The householder nodded, watching the smoke and flames rising up into the clear night sky from what remained of his hedge.

‘The Skhighhibhoss has spoken,’ Nhigel said turning to face his mates with his arms spread wide. ‘You may all now quench the flames of his righteousness.’

As one the mates turned to face the burning hedge and lowered the zips in their trousers.

‘Hey, I always wanted to be a fireman,’ Big Paul said, laughing as he sprayed the now smouldering hedge with his own personal fire hose.

Once the flames were out and Nhigel and his mates had zipped themselves up, they turned to go on their way, satisfied that this night the Lord’s work had been truly done.

‘Bu… but… what did the mighty and most holy Skhighhibhoss actually say to you… er… through the medium of my burning hedge, anyway,’ said the householder, nervously watching Nhigel and his mates.

‘Oh,’ Nhigel said, turning back to face the householder, who took a nervous step back against his still damply-smouldering hedge, ‘The Skhighhibhoss, he said unto us: “Mind How You Go.”’