A somewhat falsified tale of Miss Emilia Flyckt

Emilia was born in Sweden, in the small town of Kiruna in Nordland. Which means she’s technically not even Norwegian, even though she sometimes sounds like she might be.

It also meant that she was often the focus of taunts by friends Simon The Melodious, Gustav The Immer Story-Telling, Agnes The Dim-Witted and Mark The Cackling.

But little did this brilliantly funny group realise that it was making a huge mistake and unleashing a new kind of anger onto the world...

On one otherwise-insignificant day Emilia tore her way to Palace de Geyerstraße via Marien Platz, where she made it a habit to arbitrarily drop off her shoes; for it had a great door just made for that sort of thing.

Then she came stomping in – a stolen baby in one hand, a pancake in the other – looked at the startled residents and said, “I’m leaving you and Munich. You saldnav odsniva;lv...”

Some of that was unclear because she was speaking Norwegian.

Then she departed, leaving a sense of emptiness and a lone pair of shoes hanging around like a bad smell from a pair of shoes that had been left behind by an angry Viking woman. The very next month she donned her glorious horned hat and set sail for her beautiful homeland.

Legend goes that if you’re very still at night and hear a baby crying, it’s probably Emilia snatching it out of its mother’s arms...

The life and times of Gustav

Lately I’ve been quite crap at updating the blog, but one person has stayed true. Don’t feel too good for him; he has vested interest. He wants his story to be heard. And, really, who am I to stop him?

So I’ve decided that I will kick off my return to blogging with a condensed version of his life.

The life and times of Gustav

Gustav was born in Sweden where he learned Swedish. At the age of 23 he moved to Munich in search of a new life and a more Swedish hair colour. 

He met a strapping lad by the name of Simon and a crazy-haired lass by the name of Agnes on a debaucherous night out at the Hofbräuhaus which included – but was not limited to – the climbing of greasy cranes and cramming schnitzels down heaving gullets at four in the morning. 

After that everyone became fast friends. 

Also critical to the story is Emilia, who is curiously both Norwegian and Swedish, and Mark, who is random.

You could say that Gustav’s life in Munich was going rather well – he was working his way through intensive German courses, immer doing well and immer telling delightful stories that few people can remember. But one thing still stood in his way; his hair was a worryingly dark shade of blond.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed upon looking at himself in the mirror one day, “what will the other super blonde, super attractive Swedes say? They’re immer walking around with blonde hair!”

Luckily Gustav could rely on Simon, Emilia and a homebrand hair bleach. 

On one fateful day in February he knocked down the door of The Palace de Geyerstrasse and demanded that its inhabitants strap his head up in a giant condom and smother it with a white paste.

Reluctantly Simon agreed and spent several minutes prying beige-coloured tufts out from underneath the latex cover. 

Gustav roared with laughter, “I look so cool!”

And dared another person to coat him in bleach. At first nobody spoke up, then slowly a wayward hand crept forward and lifted a finger in interest...

 ...but instead Mark's sister, Jess, bravely took up the challenge. 

She slaved over Gustav's locks and watched in amazement as they turned the colour of gold, while everybody silently feared that they might fall off. 

The room was thick with anticipation as Gustav disappeared into the bathroom and maddened laughter could be heard from within - an unfortunate side-effect of the chemicals. 

Finally he emerged, looking one-third more Swedish.

He pondered his new look

and joyfully exclaimed, "I'm ready to meet the woman on this box. Look guys I think she likes me. She's immer looking my way."

And he lived happily ever after.

The End