The International Writers Magazine: Guy Block Stories

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Head On The Block • Mark Cunliffe Guy Block is in trouble Story of his life The Dean of Trenton University, Guy’s boss, the head honcho, wants to see him and that can only mean trouble. Deep trouble Sub aquatic trouble

Guy sat outside the Dean’s office like a naughty schoolboy and wracked his brains trying to work out what could possibly have got him here.
As usual there were more suspects than on Agatha Christie’s Orient Express
Sure, he’d slept with a few students of late, but then again, when had he not? She can’t be bollocking him for that
Can she?
No, perks of the job that.
Isn’t it?
Damn

One of them must have talked. I bet it was that bolshy little Marxist, the one with the Joanna Lumley looks, cute fringe and tight sweater. Guy knew she’d be trouble; it was like trying to chat up Ann Oakley all over again.

Though not as hard as chatting up Germaine Greer
That was surprisingly easy

Surely the Dean knew all this when she took over as Head of Trenton? I mean its no secret surely? Guy’s name crops up often enough in Private Eye suggesting his libidinous lifestyle.
Hell, he even used to go out on the pull with Laurie Taylor!
Laurie always got more girls though

Bastard, Guy should have become a Sociology Prof like him instead of English.
And reciting Chaucer is seldom ever sexy
Though quite why reciting Marx is, is beyond Guy, and many others too
Though not the Lumleyesque Marxist in the tight sweater

"Sod it!" Guy exhaled and pushed back the rickety wooden chair with such force that it scraped and screeched across the polished floor loudly. He took as long as stride as his lengthy legs could to the window and looked out at the campus grounds.
Sod it all

If she sacked me, Guy thought, I wouldn’t care. Good riddance to this place.
He tossed his ever so slightly greying longish hair back and gave a resolute stare out of the rain lashed window. Even when in the deepest of fertiliser, Guy was still vain.

Look at it, he thought, Trenton University, a modern university that is now thirty years old and still not top league. A child of the 60's that refused to grow up!
That makes two of them

I’m better than this! Guy thought
Hmmm…
Look at it, the large grey concrete block surrounded by greenery. All glass and breezeblocks, walkways and fake ponds, draughty corridors and Stella at a pound a pint leading to student revelry
Student revelry
Why should they have all the fun?
Guy is merely leading by example
Yes, like some perverted Pied Piper

No, no, no
Deny it all, whatever it is. Call the Union in
If only he could remember if he was still paying his subs?
Bet Laurie Taylor is

Come one, they can’t sack a man for casual encounters with a student now can they? Surely that isn’t a sacking offence? What does get one the sack?
A gang bang with the Bursar and his wife no doubt.
And their dog

Finally the Dean came to the door and called him in.
"Prof Block!"
My God she is ugly, Guy thought, along with wondering if she knew it was him who threw up in her handbag last Xmas?
Probably.
Expect that to return today like the cheap sherry in question of that day did.

"Now then Guy I expect you are wondering why I have asked you here" She said as Guy took a seat.

Actually, no
Guy was wondering what on earth her parents must have looked like to produce something so grotesque.
He cast an expert eye across her features and was appalled. There was her thick black hair that was plastered around her head like some kind of Lego figure, for starters. Followed by her stern flabby face that not even a blind man would surely consider attractive.
Even Casanova would have had a headache
"I have to say-" King Kong’s mother continued, "That certain descriptions of your activities have come to my attention recently"
Her voice was deeper than the ocean, her bottom larger than the rainforest. Indeed her entire figure put Guy in mind of a sack of potatoes.
Ironic really as she was certainly no stranger to a chip-shop supper.

"Its not about last Friday’s faculty meeting is it?" Asked Guy, "I admit I did try to throttle my colleague Prof Pootle but come on the man drives a Volvo and plays golf for goodness sakes"
He really does deserve attempted assassination for that.

"No it is not that" The Dean stated. "It is your sexual adventures I have brought you here to discuss"
More like misadventures, Guy thought
He knew it. This is it. Regret to have to inform you et-dismissive-cetera. Well sod her Guy thought determinedly, many intellectuals have suffered for their peccadilloes.
Byron
Shelley
Larkin…he had three girls on the go!

And now, Guy Block
Well, He would make no bones
I am what I am
With another toss of his hair, a flare of his nostrils, a straighten of his back and a pout on his lips-
Vain you see?
Guy spoke, "I will not deny it, I will not deny any of it. I have a libido and am not in the least bit apologetic or regretful for it or what I have done"
"Really Prof Block?"
Yes really
"Well thank heavens for that!"
And with a nimbleness that belied her fighting weight the Dean threw herself from her chair and onto Block’s lap
"I wish to be your next conquest Prof Block! Show me what I have been missing!"

Guy tried to scramble out from under her, but sadly though her nimbleness belied her weight, her weight did not belie her heaviness
By God was she heavy
"That’s an order from your Dean!" She bellowed

Guy Block is in trouble
Told you so

© Mark Cunliffe July 2006

Writer's Block
Mark Cunliffe in detention with Guy Block

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