The Lord of the Flies (Forumshire style)

The boy with the flowing fair hair climbed down the last piece of rock and began to make his way towards the lagoon.

He had taken off his Forumshire Juniors sweater, and trailed it now from one hand, but his shirt stuck to him and his shining hair was plastered to his forehead.

All around him the jungle was bathed in shimmering heat. He was clambering through the creepers and broken trunks when he heard a cry behind him.

“Ho!” it said in a thick Scottish accent, “haud oan a minute pal.”

The undergrowth to the side was shaken violently, “Haud oan a meenit,” the voice cried again, then more plaintively, “Um, cud yi come o'er here. Ah've goat kin o' caught up.”

The fair haired boy edged closer into the undergrowth and saw before him a figure dangling from a mass of creepers and swaying gently in the hot breeze. A faint steam rose from him as he hung there in the humid air.

“Ah can hurdly move wi' o' these creepers things, gie us a haund pal,” the figure pleaded.

The fair haired boy considered him a moment then with some seeming reluctance began to help the other boy down.

The Scottish boys knees, bare beneath a kilt were coarse, plump and scratched. He bent down, reached into the recesses of the pleated tartan and produced a bottle of some dark liquid which he drank from eagerly.

He was shorter than the fair boy, and despite his youthful age sported an impressive beer gut already.

His head was topped off with a riot of wild red hair, all of which seemed at odds with itself over which direction it should stick up in. And in a mass failure of consensus had settled for all of them at once.

He stepped forward from the creepers, being careful where he put his feet as he swayed unsteadily.
“Whure's the Admin?”

The fair boy shook his head, “This is an island, at least I think it's an island, perhaps there aren't any Admin or Mods anywhere.”

The Scots lad looked startled beneath the mad hair, “But we wur oan an official Forum excursion, there hus tae be an Admin,” the boy pleaded and took another swig from his bottle.

The fair haired boy did not reply, he was staring out towards the lagoon.

“Sum o' the other lads an' lassies must huve goat oot, musn't they?” he added hopefully.

The fair boy began strolling in the direction of the water, and the Scots boy hurried after him.

“So, thur's nae Admin or Mods at aw?”

“I don't think so, “ the fair boy said this solemnly, but then the delight of a realised ambition overcame him. In his most secret innermost thoughts the idea arose, 'I could be Admin.'
In delight he stood on his head and grinned at the Scottish boy, “No Admin!”

“We cannae be the oanly wanes that survived crashing here,” the Scottish boy reasoned and gazed out to sea, “but the wreckage is goan, must huv been dragged oot tae sea in yon storm last night,” he hesitated then asked, “Whit's yer name?”

“Eldo,” the boy replied, the Scottish boy waited his turn to be asked but it never came. The fair haired boy called Eldo stood up, smiled and once more began to make his way towards the lagoon where he proceeded to strip off, revealing a glistening muscled body.

“Ah expect thur's mair o' us, scattered aboot,” the Scottish boy shouted to him from further up the shore, trying not to notice how Eldo rippled , “you huvnae seen any huv yi?”

Eldo broke into a run for the water, the Scots boy attempted to catch up, but long before he reached the water he was weaving erratically and breathing like a bellows, “Ma Maw telt us nae tae run,” he grumbled between pants,” oan account aw ma exceptional drunkeness,” he said swerving violently and seemingly uncontrollably off to one side.

“Drunkenness?” Eldo queried.

“That's richt, cannae go an hoor wi oot sum bevvy in us, huv bin bevving since a wis three,” he said with a touch of pride.

He pulled out his bottle of dark, nearly black liquid, blood shot eyed and smiling he held it up and took a large slug and promptly fell over.

A blissful expression crossed his face as he staggered back to his feet, followed close on by a pained expression and then a slightly panicky one.

“Disnae half go richt through yi mind,” he said clutching a hand to his posterior, “Back in a meenite, A'm touching tartan here.”

And with that he scurried off into the bushes where he crouched down. There came a series of deeply unpleasant splattering sounds interspersed with long groans and sighs of relief and satisfaction. A faint sickly green haze began to rise above the top of the undergrowth.

Eldo grimaced in disgust and feeling a sudden need to cleanse himself dove into the inviting blue-green water of the lagoon.

A short while later the Scots boy emerged from the undergrowth and made his way down the beach of sand, into which he fell face first. Grunting he pushed himself up on his elbows until he had achieved the approximation of a sitting position and observed Eldo swimming strongly in the lagoon.

“We aught tae try tae find oany others,” he shouted to Eldo, but Eldo kept on swimming and made no response, “I dinnae care whit they call me,” he went on somewhat reflectively and confidentially, “jist sae long as they dinane call me whit they did at school.”

Eldo paused in his swimming and came closer to the shore until it became shallow enough to stand, curious despite himself, “What was that?”

The Scots boy glanced over his shoulder then staggering up he weaved to the waters edge and leant swaying towards Eldo and whispered, “They used tae call us Petty.”

“Petty!” Eldo shrieked with laughter, “Petty! Petty!”

“Knock it aff Eldo, coam aff it,” Petty pleaded,” Ah telt yi A dinae want called..”

”Petty! Petty!” Eldo chanted and laughed dancing out of the water then he swept his arms out and pretending to be an x-wing and with a cry of “Red Five going in!” he made laser zapping sounds and pretended to fire at Petty all the time crying out “Petty! Petty!” between each laser burst.

Petty grinned drunkenly, “Well, sae long as yi dinae tell the others, if there ur oany others.”

Eldo ran back for the water and plunged in calling back, “Come on in,” to Petty who stood reluctantly at the water edge on the hot sand.

“Ma Maw says a cannae go swimming, on account oo' ma aforementioned exceptional drunkenness,” Petty explained.

“Sucks to your maw!” Eldo whooped and splashed his arm down into the water.

Petty bore this with a sort of humble resignation.

“Di yi reckon the Admin will come an rescue us then?”

“Of course,” Eldo replied between strokes.

“Bit how will they ken wir we ur?” Petty went on obstinately, taking his bottle out again.

Eldo stopped and began treading water, it was so warm it was making him sleepy, but a nagging worry was building in his head, “They will know where we were, back at the forum,” he reasoned.

“I heard thum talking, just before we wus wrecked, the forums gone,” Petty went on seeming to almost delight n the revealing of bad news,”This is an island is it noo?” he went on.

“I climbed a hill,” Eldo said emerging from the water, “I think its an island.”

“Thur aw deid a tell yi, an this is an island, an nae bugger kens we're here, we're dooomed,” Petty said in leaden tones of misery, “the Admin dinnae ken, the mods dinnae ken, naebody kens,” he took a swig from he bottle, “We might be here till wi die,” he added darkly.

Eldo turned away and gathering up his clothes proceeded to dress in thoughtful silence.

Still in silence they walked along the beach until they found a fallen palm tree whose arching trunk made a comfortable bench and whose huge fallen fronds offered a welcome and cooling respite from the heat.

“Wu've goat tae find the others,” Petty insisted after a length,” Wu've goat tae dae sumthing.”

Eldo still said nothing, his thoughts drifted out to ideals of a pleasant island utopia with himself as its Admin.

“How many of us are there a wunner?” Petty went on.

“I don't know,” Eldo replied frowning.

“Whit's that?” Petty said, he was looking beyond Eldo and at the waters edge, where something glinted among the weeds.

He staggered over towards it and Eldo trailed behind less interested.

Suddenly Petty became animated with excitement and he squatted down and grabbed the thing, “Its buckie!” he cried, then sighed in disappointment and crabbit resignation, “Its an empty buckie bottle,” he added, “must huve been in the wreck.”

Eldo nodded, not interested in the empty bottle and still dwelling on thoughts of ruling the island as Admin.

“We cun use this,” Petty said holding the bottle upside down  and letting a sludge of sand plop out the neck, “you cun blow oan them, across the tap, and it makes a noise like a big horn. We cun use it tae call fir others, huv a meeting.” He held the bottle towards Eldo, “But yi'll need tae dae it, ma Maw says a cannae blow onto buckie bottles cause huve been smoking since a wis two.”

Eldo took the bottle, interested in spite of his earlier attitude and put the bottle cautiously to his lower lip and blew across it.

Immediately there was a low resonance that built into a deep hum and as he blew harder the hum grow louder and deeper and became a sustained note that rolled across the beach and through the palms trees that fringed it and off into the dark of the jungle. Birds took flight shrieking from the canopy and then finally Eldo ran out of air and the echoes of the blast on the buckie bottle faded away into the trees and there was silence.

“A bet yi can hear that fur fucking miles!” Petty exclaimed.

Eldo grinned then blew a series of deep short blasts on the bottle.

“There's wan!” Petty cried pointing to the edge of the jungle were a figure had appeared, it was a boy with a straw hat and dungarees and he had a variety of suspiciously shaped fruit clutched in his hands.

Eldo continued to blow on the bottle until voices could be heard shouting distantly in the forest.

The dungaree clad figure approached them and Petty immediately asked, “Whits yer name?”

“Dave,” replied the boy, “would you like a fruit?” he asked holding up as phallic a symbol of the fruit world as you were ever likely to see and grinning with mischief from behind it.

“Um, no the noo,” Petty stammered back.

The shouting in the forest was nearer now as Eldo continued to blow, and in the shimmering heat of the distant beach many figures were emerging to sight.

Two more strode up together Eldo noticed, they announced themselves as Blue and Forest.

“Right, Forest and Blue,” Petty nodded indicating the wrong one each time.

“No, Blue, Forest,” Blue corrected pointing first to himself then Forest.

“That's whit a said,” Petty retorted sharply and crabbitly and ushered them onto the palm tree bench beside Dave to await the arrival of others as Eldo, now going quite blue in the face, continued to bellow surprising sound from the neck of the bottle.

Out of the shimmering heat on the distant beach a darkness appeared, a black shadow, a shimmering blur that as it stepped into clearer vision resolved itself into a group of boys, all marching in step.
They were eccentricly dressed, each wore a cloth tied around their heads in a variety of colours, some had used their school ties.

Eldo finally ran out of breath and purple in the face he stopped abruptly and watched the group approach panting.

When the group was ten yards away their leader shouted an order and they all stopped in unison. Then he stepped forward and demanded “Where's the Admin with the horn?”

“There is no Admin with a horn,” Eldo said in reply to him, “there's just me and this bottle.”

The leader looked Eldo up and down and did not seem to be pleased by what he found. His head was long, thin and tall and his mouth was tight and turned downwards in a permanent grimace or scowl of displeasure.

“Is there a ship? A respectable ship?”

“No,” Eldo informed him.

The leader swept round to those sitting on the palm tree, “And there isn't an Admin? Not even a mod?” His question garnered only blank stares.

“No, there is no Admin,” Eldo repeated to his back,”we are having a meeting. Join in.”

The leader turned to his group and barked, “Stand there.”

“But,” protested one of the group.

“But what? Ringo,” the leader demanded.

“It's just, we've been marching all day in the heat Odo. Can't we have a seat for the meeting?” Ringo pleaded, he was a stocky well built boy with muscles that were already beginning to bulge and ruggedly handsome face. But the heat, his pack, the marching and Odo's insistence that water was for officers only meant the entire group was in danger of collapsing on the spot, “just five minutes,” Ringo pleaded.

“Yeah, please,” put in the boy standing next in line to Ringo and who was called Orwell, “these feet are meant are for dancing with the ladies, not marching,” he grumbled.

“And what do you think would have happened,” Odo bellowed, “if Eru had decided just to have five minutes off instead if singing the universe into being?Where would you be then?”

Ringo mumbled sweet nothings under his breath. And further down the line where Malick and RA stood there was the sound of  agreeing sentiments.

“Exactly!” Odo exclaimed, “Eru knows all,” there were louder grumblings at this form the assembled group and Odo acted swiftly fearing sudden revolution, “But I am not without compassion, you may have five minutes sitting down, but I want to see you polishing your boots for Elebereth while you do it. Eru will not have slackers in the flock or in the choir of the Boys Wing of Her Lady of the Ankle Length Frock!!”

The group, grateful to be given a few moments respite from Odo's self righteousness perched on the palm tree or threw themselves on the ground. Among them were a sparky boy named Bungo and a poor young lad who was lying flat out with sweat steaming off him in a fog as he was almost universally covered in thick hair. Bungo introduced the poor fellow as Halfwise before rolling him sympathetically into the lagoon where he recovered somewhat and all his hair floated like seaweed about him.

Petty eyed Odo up with unfriendly eyes, thinking he looked just the sort who would steal your last coal scuttle in the night and feign righteous indignation if accused in the morning.

Just then the group of voices they had heard shouting from the jungle emerged as an actual group of people trailing creepers in their wake approached.

Petty wrinkled his nose at them too, which took a while as there was a lot of it; they were girls.

They did not appear to have any leaders but introduced themselves one by one and in no particular order; there was Figg with a head of flaming red to match Petty's but where Petty's hair was a law unto its own Figg's was neatly under control.

And there was Amarie, who seemed to be shy but watched everything and missed nothing with her deep brown eyes peering out from under a chestnut fringe. Next to her was a bright eyed girl called Norc, who introduced herself with a burst of Fjordian colour that temporarily brought the conversation to a stunned and embarrassed halt. After her, dressed all in black, came Azriel. Who when she laughed ,and she did so often, laughed as if she had just thought of a very rude joke. And last of all a fair faced girl whose skin seemed to shine faintly and whose ears were leaf shaped called Tinuviel.

“So what's going on here?” Figg asked, “Is there an Admin.”

“No,” Eldo replied somewhat wearily, “there is no Admin, just me.”

“Oh!” Figg said unable to hide her disappointment.

“We were going to have a meeting,” Eldo explained.

“That's a surprisingly good idea,” Figg said, “for boys, she added.

“Girls urnae allowed tae meetings,” Petty put in.

“Says who?” Figg bristled and she stepped towards Petty flanked by the other girls, Petty tried to retreat inside his own kilt like a startled tortoise.

“Can we just start the meeting?” Eldo said holding the buckie bottle up, “we all have to decide what we are going to do if we are to have any chance of survival on this island.”

This can only end in tears.

Yeah, but I reckon there'l be tears of laughter to ! Great start Petty, got my interest from the off, I love these Forumshire Tales     

Almost certainly true Bungo, and I hope to prompt a giggle or two along the way Azriel   

why am I Always bossy?    I AM NOT BOSSY!

Mrs Figg wrote:why am  I Always bossy?    I AM NOT BOSSY!

why am i always so fucking fjordian?

why am I Always bossy?- Figg

I didn't think I made you bossy- just, firm.
Besides, wait and see how it develops- you are only in the last few lines of that bit to early to say.

why am i always so fucking fjordian?- Norc

I think how you worded the question answers it!  

Why am I always a drunken disgusting slob? --checks mirror-- Ahh   

 

A TV or film adaption of Lord of the flies scarred/scared me in my youth, I'll be reading with one eye closed.

Loved this book and I can tell I'll love this!! Though you kind of have yourself the worst part petty...

“The first thing we need to do,” Eldo said still holding the bottle aloft,”is to elect a leader.”

“So long as its not one of those purists,” Figg piped up.

“Or u PJ lovers,” Petty sniped back and Figg stuck her tongue out at him and blew a raspberry.

“It should be someone respectable,” Odo put in.

“Or somehow who thought to blow this bottle and call the meeting,” Eldo added, and showing his natural predilection for politics brandished the bottle to the assembled faces.

“Perhaps we should have a vote?” Blue suggested, “I can work out some basic electoral laws, a sound legal framework for the campaigning period, funding limits, campaign donor lists and legal requirements, and a regulatory body to oversee the final count,” he looked at their blank stares,”for a flat rate?” he added.

“Or we could just have a show of hands,” Eldo suggested.

“A show of hands sounds fair and respectable to me,” Odo agreed then turning to his choir instructed, “when you hear my name vote for me.”

Eldo once more held the bottle aloft, “Votes for Odo!” he cried.
Odo shot one hand up in the air and behind him, less enthusiastically his choir did likewise.

“And votes for me, Eldo, caller of the meeting, finder of the bottle and natural born leader!”

Hands leapt into the air, with the majority of the others voting for Eldo and the mystical talisman of the bottle, even Petty who hated voting in case he had to accept any responsibility for anything..

In the end Eldo won by a single vote. Odo was not best pleased and demanded a recount, twice, before grudgingly accepting the result, “But,” he proclaimed, “the choir do as I say.”

“And what will you do?” Eldo asked him.

“We will be hunters,” Odo replied haughtily, hunters being the first thing he could think of that made him sound strong and tough, even though he had never in fact hunted down anything more threatening than a strawberry jelly. But he rallied magnificently when he remembered Orwell in his ranks, “Orwell here is a top survivalist, isn't that so Orwell?”

Orwell stepped sheepishly forward,”Um, yes,” he ventured experimentally and in the tones of someone who had boasted about a thing they never expected to be put to the test on and now found they can't back down.

“See!” Odo grinned.

“Well the first thing we have to do,” Eldo said and turned to address the crowd, “is find out if this is an island or not. It might not be and we might get help soon.”

“Or it is an' wi die here, lost an' forgotten an' dooomed, ” Petty forebode from the back.

“Oh be quiet Petty,” Eldo admonished.

“Petty?!” Odo remarked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, that's his nickname, Petty!” Eldo cried and pointed at Petty who was trying to bury himself in the sand head first so people could not see how red it had gone. This unfortunately left his kilt flapping and his just as red posterior shining in the tropical sun.

The others laughed and chanted “Petty!” mockingly at him but eventually the humour subsided and Eldo could continue on, “Three of us should go and try to get to the top of that hill,” he said pointing towards the heart of the island, if island it was, “I will go.”

“And I'll go too,” Odo put in.

“That just leaves one other,” Eldo said looking round the circle of faces.

“A'll go,” Petty volunteered hoping to win back some credibility, but that ship had not only already sailed it had never made harbour in the first place.

“We don't want your sort,” Odo remarked sniffing his nose at Petty, “we need a sober team that doesn't smell like the bottom of a barrel and wheeze when it moves.”

“But A fund the bottle,” Petty protested, “I telt Eldo tae blaw oan it, A met him afore oany o' the rest o' yi bastards.”

“What about one of the girls?” Eldo suggested simply ignoring Petty now he was securely in power and had the backing of others.

Odo wrinkled his nose again considering girls not much more use than Petty.

The girls went into a huddle and eventually Amarie stepped forward and peered up at them from under her fringe, “I'll come,” she said, “and Figg will stay behind to make a chaise lounge.”

Hmmm having girls in this version should be interesting compared to the original all boys dynamic (so it's going to be better, in other words

 

I have a plan for the lasses in this   

I seem to remember a rotund boy getting eaten in the original, can we call him Legolas?

Im suspicious of the (  ) Petty put up !

 

Oh no   

Mrs Figg wrote:I seem to remember a rotund boy getting eaten in the original, can we call him Legolas?

      

Maybe we could call him PJ?

 yes, PJ ! can you make his 'end' as horrible & painful as possible, please ?.......pretty please ?

I am giving nothing away about who is in what roles! You will just have to wait and see   

I remember reading Lord of the Flies way back in school.    I can't wait to see where this story goes      

I hadn't read it since school either RA. Butits been fun rereadng and butchering the poor thing!

Hopefully more to come later tonight.

Never read the story, watched the beginning of the movie and got bored.