Uncontrolled Brawling at Anger Management Class

The Rev Nigel Windstay was a busy chap and liked to keep his fingers in as many pies as possible: not all of them cooked by his wife which irritated the hell out of her.  When she got especially annoyed  he would tell her to attend one of his Anger Management Classes which he ran at the village hall. She never did. Lucky.

Many things irritate me. Badly made toast, politicians with poorly chosen ties. Politicians with no ties. Politicians. Alright, you can see the list is never-ending and finally the Empress of the Living Room, otherwise known as Mavis, suggested I go to one of these  Anger Management Classes to see if I could learn to control my harrumphing, spluttering and general failure to be a good sport in the face of life’s whimsical irritations. I agreed under protest and a threat of sanctions including no breakfast on a Saturday morning.

The Vicar was not one of my favourite people. Not in any hard and fast way but his syrapy all-round goodness of manner, if not character,  was a feature I found it hard to enjoy. I’m not sure he had ever forgotten my scoffing a pork pie on the quiet during one of his sermons. His subsequent sickening display of forgiveness and understanding was enough to waken the mass- murderer in the laziest of souls.

So there I was, sitting in the class, trying to keep my mind entertained by reminiscing over recent football results when the Rev slithered up to my chair and said, “Just breath deeply”. “Sorry Reverend”, said I, clinging to politeness. “Breath deeply and let your mind fill with the blue of the sky”. “It’s full of football results” I said, trying to keep him up to speed on my recent mental developement.  “Soar like a bird”.”Let the moment flow through you”. He seemed to be grinning at me with a quality of slack-jawed vacancy which would have tried the patience of a corpse.  “Let the sky lift your heart: soar above the clouds” he continued, determined to show no mercy to his most unlikely recruit.

I would have soared but there seemed to be a sudden constriction in my throat and a faint thundering noise between my ears as this warbling twit continued to coo nonsense in my ear. I’m not one for physco- babble but this passive aggressive mind control claptrap sometimes needs a ‘short sharp shock’ in the way of a swift uppercut in the region of the  voice projection equipment.

I thought of discussing this strategy with the Vicar, when my fist, taking pre-emptive action, moved smoothly, but at some speed, to the side of his face. Ok, the rest of my body tried to apologise  but the general commotion suggested that my words were having no effect. His Serene Eminence, the Reverend Nigel Windstay, stifled all conversation by clamping his teeth on the bicep region of the offending arm. His eyes, normally a pallid blue were now boiling over with emotions not seen since the bribery scandal at the beauty contest in 2008. He seemed to have morphed into a deep sea fish thing, and rational dialogue was no longer on the menu. Odd whimpering noises escaped from the side of his mouth and he was batting my chest with his well-manicured hands. My arm, thinly protected by a once clean shirt, was enduring recordable levels of discomfort, which I tried to mitigate by grabbing his throat with my other hand.

By now I was aware of people trying to pull us apart, and a of number of new visitors to the class, all dressed in blue and with a passion for blowing whistles. A quantity of water was emptied over our heads by a helpful member of the flower arranging class,  normally located in the next room.

Both of us were invited to spend a night in the cells, followed by a visit to the Magistrates Court. It would have been rude to refuse. On my return from the Court, which involved transferring a significant amount from my bank account into the local council coffers, I arrived back at our small home. My wife was reading the local paper. It was hard to miss the headlines. “Fight Breaks Out in Anger Management Class. Vicar on Remand. ” No chance of a cooked breakfast then !


About Peter Wells aka Countingducks

Trying to remember what my future is
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28 Responses to Uncontrolled Brawling at Anger Management Class

  1. renxkyoko says:

    Countingducks, this post is sooooo very British ! ! !


  2. catterel says:

    Brilliant – not just footballers, then!


  3. 1WriteWay says:

    Hilarious! This post was a good way for me to start my day 🙂


  4. gotham girl says:

    What a great way to start my day! This was such a great read! “warbling twit” – love that!


  5. cyberian says:

    Excellent! Essential pre-reading for all anger management classes 🙂 One of your best yet.


  6. winsomebella says:

    Well-done! (The post, not the toast :-))


  7. Al says:

    Absolutely hilarious! You have struck a blow for all mankind against twittering pseudo-intellectuals the world over……right in their voice projection equipment (still laughing at that one).


  8. leagpage says:

    Oh, I am laughing.


  9. Love it! The perfect way to start my morning!


  10. I loved this. I could so easily imagine the scene as it unfolds and especially liked the bit about scoffing the pork pie during the Reverand’s sermon! What I want to know is does the Reverand face a 10 session/week ban?


  11. mothermi6 says:

    Very funny & real. I wonder what your view of a ‘good tie’ is? Hopefully not one of those loosely-knotted affairs in pastel colours? So many off the sessions you describe feel run by synthetic personas. The ‘Stepford Wives’ come to mind.


  12. Purely.. Kay says:

    This was so fun to read :). I really needed me a pick me up my friend. I really did and you came through 🙂


  13. nelle says:

    Role play, sir, it was all meant as role play.


  14. WordsFallFromMyEyes says:

    Politicians with badly chosen ties! You make me laugh.


  15. Caroline says:

    I’m crying and weeping with laughter! Thank you CD for making my morning. You’ve no idea how I needed a good giggle


  16. Jane Thorne says:

    Love this one Ducky 🙂 x


  17. Ina says:

    Lovely 🙂 and it made me LOL


  18. What a lark! Took me back to my PCC days. No, the vicar was never embroiled in fisticuffs but the atmosphere of certain PCC meetings could be cut with a knife! Tee-Hee! Very good.


  19. This brought back so many funny memories. One especially, when my best friend and her fiance went on a camping retreat for couples to develop survival strategies together (only in America would someone try this!) By the end, she’d given back the engagement ring and was attracted to the strong, sure, supportive guide who encouraged her across a rope bridge.
    This was great. Thank you!


  20. sillymexox0 says:

    Loved the whole British feel of this post, “twit” haha! Was so entertained by this post, just what i needed to cheer me up 😀


  21. sillymexox0 says:

    Haha i had something similar when this priest kept telling me that I should go in search of God, that i should find him and all sorts of nonsense.


  22. Oh my goodness! I have only just managed fo get round to this post. I have had a horrible morning and you have just completely turned a crap day into a good one! This is fabulous and had me laughing out loud!

    Thank you! 🙂


  23. Writerlious says:

    Teeheeheee. Vicar + anger management class = hilarious. 🙂


  24. Your sense for the edges of the plausible and taking it one step beyond are simply marvelous. 🙂


  25. This looks like a job for… “Yakety Sax”! It’s not just for Benny Hill anymore.


  26. Oh, I love it! Well, you really turned the world of anger management on its head … and good for you! (not that I think anger is always ok, but I can’t stand those who think they have all the answers.)


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