A Mr Finger Tale

In the final few hours before Helen's departure from our little world, Helen and I were having a very pleasant chat on MSN. After a while Helen noticed that I was eating Marmite straight from the jar. (We didn't have any bread- can you really blame me?) In a vain attempt to distract her from this I told her a small story about a man named Mr Finger. In tribute to her, and to jog your memories, that she will come back, I present A Mr Finger Tale: Mr Finger meets Miss Me...

Mr Finger was innocently sitting next to his lovely Marmite house, when he suddenly realized he was extremely lonely.
"What can I do to combat this loneliness?" he asked himself, and after a few moments' thought he came up with a marmalade-tastic idea! He would go to the youth centre and see if there were any nice young ladies with whom he could share a cup of coffee.

So, he toddled off to the youth club, still feeling slightly blue. He hoped to find a beautiful, long-haired goddess, and he was not disappointed...

'Well hello there!' thought Mr Finger, spotting a gorgeous lady-finger standing next to a conveniently placed jar of marmalade. He sidled up to her and said, in his most gentlemanly voice, "Would you care to join me for a cup of coffee, Miss...er..."
"Miss Me," replied the finger, smiling a smile that lit up her glittering eyes. "But I'm afraid I would not care to join you for a cup of coffee. I don't drink coffee, you see?"
Mr Finger was crestfallen. He summoned up his courage to try again- perhaps she really hated coffee, but would like very much to have a quick drink with him. He cleared his throat and she turned back to face him.
"May I buy you a drink? It's very hot in here," he said, nervously.
"Oh," said Miss Me, obviously flattered. "I'm sorry but I don't drink alcohol either."
Mr Finger was getting very frustrated. Talk about mixed signals! She was flirting with him but refusing every offer he made!
"Could I take you out for lunch, perhaps?" he asked, trying not to sound desperate.
Miss Me frowned. "Unfortunately I don't like lunch either." But upon seeing Mr Finger's face fall she leant forwards and whispered in his ear. "I'll tell you something I do, dear. I like fucking."

Mr Finger stared at her for a moment. He'd just met this girl, now she was inviting him to bed. He couldn't accept. She was obviously on drugs or drunk. There could be no other reason for her to make him an offer of this kind. He'd have to decline. What was he thinking? Of course he'd say yes!
Mr Finger and Miss Me went quickly back to Mr Finger's house and quickly their playful fondling laid the path for full blown sex. Mr Finger hadn't had sex this good for years! As the room grew warmer the air started to go hazy and very soon Mr Finger and Miss Me were panting next to each other on Mr Finger's glorious Marmite jar.
"That was fantastic," murmured Mr Finger and rolled to face Miss Me. "How I lived before I met you, I'll never know!" But as he leant over to kiss her he found tears flowing down her cheeks.
"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong? Is it something I said?" he asked, anxiously.
"No," Miss Me sobbed. "It's just, I suddenly remembered I'm a devout Catholic!" and she burst into a fresh set of tears.
"There there," Mr Finger tried in vain to comfort her. "It's okay. No-one will know." He sighed, this wasn't working. After a moment's hesitation he took a gulp of air and got down on his first joint.
"Miss Me," he said, solemnly. "Will you marry me?"
Miss Me giggled.
"I'd be Mrs Finger-Me," she said, laughing.
"Of course!" Mr Finger replied. "It will be good for publicity. What do you do anyway?"
"I'm a primary school teacher," she said, looking slightly worried.
"Don't worry!" Mr Finger grinned, "I'm sure the parents won't mind."


So Miss Me became Mrs Finger-Me and Mr Finger was very happy. They got married in Jerusalem and embarked on a exotic honeymoon.
They stayed in a gorgeous castle and had rampant sex, like bunny rabbits. Their routine was pretty simple. Every morning Mr Finger would get out of bed, Mrs Finger-Me would call over to him and he would quickly return to bed.



Mr Finger enjoyed himself immensely. At last, after a long and extremely eventful honeymoon Mr and Mrs Finger returned home to Mr Finger's Marmite. After a couple of months Mrs Finger-Me was blessed with four lovely children. They called them Procris, Cephalus, Ellie and Bob.



And, until next time, they lived happily ever after.


Credits
Photographer: Henry
Background-holder: Luke
Models: Emmie, Luke
Storyline: Emmie