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The International Writers Magazine
The Continuing Adventures of Guy Block

Block Out - Guy Block Lecturer extraordinare
Mark Cunliffe

It was a crisp January morning at Hopemouth University. It was 6am. The grass was dewy wet, the air misty and foggy and the lake a little iced over.
All was normal.

The Bursar was busying himself for the start of the day.
The Bin wagon was relentless beep beeping as it reversed into the viaduct.
A pantomime horse was walking somewhat drunkenly through the quadrangle. Yes, normality itself.
And Guy Block was in bed.
Not his own.

Normal see?
His eyes repeatedly flickered open like the wings on a butterfly as he gazed up questioningly at an unfamiliar ceiling. Searching for an answer to his whereabouts, he groaned and lifted his head slightly to gaze up at a very familiar rear end.

A very nice, pert perfection of a familiar rear end of a 20-year-old student named Millie Mortimer.
‘Militant Millie’ as she was known amongst students and lecturers at Trenton, chair of the student union.
Her rear end was in full view because she was presently attempting to get dressed.
Hang on, its 6am what student in their right mind is up at 6am? Guy thought.
Just then he heard noises loud group type noises and knocks at the door. Millie yelled out to the callers that she was coming.
This was not the first time Guy had heard that cry.

And being a vain man he would smirk a little longer at that thought, but alas right now he was troubled. His spidey-senses told him something was amiss.
"C’mon sleepyhead" said Millie turning to wink at him, "It’s the big day today, the demo!"
Oh shit.
"Wha?" Guy stumbled out a reply.
"There gonna close the dorm down, this dorm, that fat bitch of a Vice Chancellor wants to sell it off to some conglomerate for private business, making me and all the others here homeless. We ain’t putting up with that" She replied and tossed Guy’s jeans and tweed jacket onto the bed. "C’mon up and at ‘em"
If Guy was a vain man, and he was, he could also remember with a smirk that phrase being said at some stage last night to. But he was now in a state of early morning drowsiness, confusion and panic.
Typical Guy.
"Aah right….err I can’t be here"
"Too late Prof. Block, you should have thought of that last night," Millie teased
"No, I mean I can’t be here now, not in the middle of a bloody student demo against the VC, I’m a senior lecturer…I-I have a position to think about"

Guy would later vainly hope to remember many positions from the night before but…well you get the point.
"My last statement stands Prof. Block" Millie rebutted.
Guy then proceeded to jump from the bed, surprisingly agile for a man in his late 50s…vanity remember? And then somewhat unsurprisingly for a man in his late fifties proceed to hop around the bedroom like an idiot attempting to put his leg in a trouser, panicking all the while.
"Millie help, erm get me my…." He began, but Millie had gone out of the room and for one arse puckering moment Guy thought he heard the room door be locked from the outside.
Rushing to the door and falling over in the process, because he had only one leg in his jeans at that moment, Guy realised that Millie had indeed locked him in; he banged on the door demanding what she was doing.

He could hear giggling from outside.
"I’m sorry Prof. Block, but think of our cause, what a coup to have on site, on the picket line as it were, a senior lecturer refusing to be moved, refusing to let private enterprise stand in the way of the right for student to be housed on campus" Millie answered, warming to her argument.
"Yeah, Go Prof. Block!" Came another, not unattractive female voice
"Nice one, Meester Block!" Came a cry from a foreign student from Nigeria
"Three cheers for Guy, hip hip hooray!" came a host of voices as they left the corridor and marched out with banners and placards out onto the green outside.
Hip Hip Hoo- sodding-ray, Guy thought as he sullenly proceeded to dress.
"I need a pee!" He yelled to no one, banging a redundant fist on the door.

Sat alone in the room a thought occurred to Guy. Had Millie, an attractive and seemingly innocent young student, despite her radical politics, bedded him solely for the purpose of entrapping him here for the demonstration, thus furthering her cause? No, surely not. This was a happy accident, like ham and pineapple, or gin and cider (Guy’s own preferred serendipity) Surely the sabotage of the VC’s plans by placing Guy here was an added bonus after their night of passion.
Vanity thy name is Guy. Stupidity, thy must be Guy’s middle name.

Opening the window Guy could see the crowd assembled on the dewy grass outside, the air was chilly and Guy’s left nipple immediately went numb. He struggled with his shirt and called out to the throng.
"I say ahh … Millie? Millie I haven’t been used have I? I mean last night, that wasn’t just to get me here today was it?"
Guy nervous ticked as he awaited a reply.
Millie looked up, placing a hand over her eyes, she squinted up before replying with a trace of a giggle in her voice; "Um no, no of course not Prof. Block, but we did need a staff member. We had had the confirmed support of Prof. Goodman, he was meant to be here today"
"Where is he?" Damn it, Grant Goodman, the pain in the arse economic lecturer, a right bleeding wet liberal! Guy despised him. The sooner that little shit showed up the quicker Guy could get away hopefully without the VC realising his part in any of this. The man was always late for everything, usually out jogging. Bloody fitness freak.
"Haven’t you heard? He dropped dead yesterday afternoon, jogging, massive heart attack" Millie answered and then turned her back to address her supporters.
Bollocks, thought Guy as he double-taked at the news. Bastard will be late for his own funeral, you’ll see.
"But ah um Millie, I have classes today, tutorials surely" He managed a little chuckle in-between his plea "Surely you understand I can’t really be here, I’ll be letting people down?"
"You’ll be letting us down if you go!" retorted Millie
"Yeah" came a universal chorus from the badge wearing, placard bearing students.
"Besides, I shouldn’t worry, by 9:30 normal service will be abandoned. We expect a big day Prof. Block, Hopemouth Uni will be on strike, it will be shutdown!" Millie concluded triumphantly.

There was nothing for it, Guy closed the window and slumped to the floor in a half dressed heap.
What could he do? He’s effectively trapped in a room against his will, used by a girl…well at least now he knows how it feels, the roles reversed.
He could call the Police.
But what could Sting do?

Over in the VC’s offices, the news of student unrest was met sometime later with nervous energy and grave foreboding by her secretary, Mr Schmidt. He fumbled around momentarily wondering what to do before finally summoning up the courage that saw his people take down the Berlin Wall, and determinedly went to inform something more colossal and ugly than a city wall, The VC Of Hopemouth University.
The news was not taken well.

Her huge frame was quivering with rage and poor Mr Schmidt felt the brunt of it. He fingered the collar of his black shirt and felt the beads of sweat on his brow as she thundered out the words "How dare they! I will not have this kind of behaviour at my University!"

She hefted her huge bulk out from behind her desk, a first time for everything, and stalked out into the outer offices bellowing for Schmidt to follow her. Carelessly his eyes drifted down to her broad arse as they always did and once again Schmidt worried if he had some masochist tendencies.

As The VC marched out over the greens that surrounded Hopemouth’s concrete monstrosities like a sad blanket of what once was and through the corridors and link ways she could see that quite a crowd was gathering on ahead of her. All the faculty rooms seemed empty, classrooms lay bare, even the GP surgery was barely filled, which made a change certainly.

Ambling in front of her was the unmistakable pot bellied over the hill frame of the head of sociology, Prof. Barley West.
"Mr West!" She shrilled "Is this your doing?…answer me!" she added without leaving a sufficient pause.
West heaved his weary old bones to a standstill and sighed, he began to light his pipe up as he ruminated that surely the VC must be some kind of cruel offspring of Mary Whitehouse and Idi Amin. He shuddered at the thought and checked his breast pocket for his hipflask before turning and replying, "I know nothing of it Vice Chancellor"
"But it is one of your students who is leading this rally?"
"Yeees, but surely its one of our students? I mean we are all one big happy family are we not?"

Tut tutting the VC rolled on like a tank into Moscow, leaving a wry smile to break out across West’s ageing features. When you reach mid to late 60s, bucking the system is the one true joy you have left, especially with sex going out the window.

Guy Block would have to get used to that one day.
Sex was pretty much out the window for Guy Block too. Or rather, Guy couldn’t stand being locked up anymore so he decided to try and climb out of the room.
The crowds got there in time to witness it all.
"My God man, you’ve returned to your political principles at last!" Guy heard boozy Barley West cry out. He always thought it ironic that the old soak was called West, given his fascination and devotion for the East. He was surprised he was here, but then realised the pubs were still closed.

Guy panicked at the large crowd assembled. The students were singing We Shall Not Be Moved, silly sods, but really the main concern for Guy was the large number of staff that had now appeared and… gulp… The VC.
"Prof Block! Am I to understand you are in part, nay, in charge of this rabble?!" She boomed out at him.
"I- ahh umm…gosh this is quite high up isn’t it?" Guy tiptoed out onto the ledge
"Be careful man!" Yelled West, checking his watch to confirm pub opening hours. He was concerned clearly.
"Excuse me, Vice Chancellor, but we are not a rabble! We are a recognised protest group of your students defending their rights to campus accommodation" Millie protested at The VC "Specifically, this very dormitory which Guy Block is defending!"
"I’m not, I’m really not" Guy wailed.
"We are a demonstration set up by Hopemouth Student Union and are perfectly within our rights to protest as laid out in The Charter that you yourself allegedly penned" Millie squared up to the bulldog face of The VC "And we sorely object to the trade off of our homes for private enterprise!"
"I want to come down!" Guy moaned as he attempted to point a foot towards the drainpipe
"Well said" said West, but sadly this was not for Guy, it was for Millie and he placed his arm over her shoulder in defiance of the rise of capitalism as they saw it.
"I think I can reach" Guy said as his sweaty palm gripped the pipe.

Just then one of the secretaries came rushing towards Schmidt with a piece of paper in her hand, like Chamberlain but with more energy obviously.
Guy clambered onto the drainpipe and began to steadily move down.
This was quite easy
Rather fun actually
"What’s he doing?" asked one of Millie’s friends as she pointed a trembling finger up at Guy’s figure.
"Oh my God" Millie said amazed.

The secretary reached Schmidt, and informed him that the paper was a fax from the group who intended to buy the campus accommodation. Schmidt gulped as he read it and for the second time today went off to incur the wrath of The VC.
"They’ve pulled out!" The VC bellowed incredulously.
"Yeeeeesssss!!!!" The news was greeted with euphoria for the demonstrators as a win for student rights.
"Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!" Was how Guy greeted the news as he fell from the creaking drainpipe
"My God…I hope he has BUPA, surely when he abandoned his principles he went to include that?" Barley West uttered as he sank the remnants of his hipflask.

Nine hours later Guy was discharged from hospital with luckily nothing more than bruises and tender ribs. He had attended various demonstrations in his own student days but this was his first casualty in them, and all because he wanted to get his leg over.
A normal day at Hopemouth indeed.

© Mark Cunliffe Jan 2007

Until next time: More adventures with Mr Block here
Block Head
Writer's Block
Memory Block
Mind Block: Guy Block gets some libido therapy
Mark Cunliffe

Chips off the Block
Mark Cunliffe
Guy has his turn with the twins

More new Fiction in Dreamscapes


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