COMPETITION
The passionate North
Jaspistos
IN COMPETITION NO. 2031 you were told that recently, in a Swedish old people's home, two men, aged 93 and 80, both in love with an 82-year-old woman, had a sword fight because the older man 'flirted with her over dinner', and were invited to present, in dramatic form, the dialogue that led up to this.
`They're ridiculous boys and I want no more to do with them,' the crone fatale announced ungratefully afterwards. The quarrels of senile folks have been brilliant- ly described in two novels, William Trevor's The Old Boys, in which Mr and Mrs Jaraby conduct an interminable snip- ing war of words in their suffocating house in Crimea Road, and Muriel Spark's Memento Mori, in which an ancient poet after an evening of passionate literary argument sends a huge late-night telegram to his adversary with the clinching sen- tence: 'You are fantastically wrong about Dowson!'
The four prizewinners, printed below, get £30 each, and the bonus bottle of The Macallan The Malt Scotch whisky goes to Paul Griffin. LARS (aged 93): Do you remember that lake near Stockholm, Annette?
ANNETTE (82): I have never been to Stockholm. LARS: The evening sun upon the water?
BJORN (80): Leave her, Lars. She does not remember.
LARs: Perhaps it was Delhi.
ANNEITh (weeps): Today, I saw the sun. I think it was today. I think it was the sun.
LARS: Or even Calcutta.
BJORN: You were never in Delhi, or Calcutta, Lars. You were a small-town sanitary inspector with a taste for Swedish nightingales. Leave Annette alone.
LARS: She is my little one. Here, dear, have my hanky.
ANNEFIE (sobs): Thank you. I have finished my vegetables. BJORN: You swine! (he seizes two swords dis- played on the wall) Here, come outside.
LARs: You'll have to wheel me.
ANN ErrE: Hurry! or we shall miss the omnibus edition of Neighbours with Swedish subtitles.
(Paul Griffin) TRUDE: Why are you looking at me like that, Eberhard?
EBERHARD: I was admiring the way you handle your dumplings, Trude — don't you agree, Bjorn?
BJORN: No. EBERHARD: Have some more gravlax, Trude it's cut on the cross like the girls from BJORN: In case you hadn't noticed, there are ladies present. TRUDE: No one told you to shove your oar in. EBERHARD: Quite right — he should stick it in his rowlocks, eh? Poor old chap, he isn't like me I'm not called Eberhard for nothing, am I, Trude?
TRUDE: Don't know about that. Sauce, please. liJoRN: With your hiatus hernia, haven't you had enough? EBERHARD: That'll be the day! Remember when Pd taken you to see the Kronenhauser exhibition back in '68? BJORN: You insult this lady and me — and for twenty years you've hogged the remote control in the TV lounge. Let us settle this like the gen- tleman you aren't!
TRUDE: You boys leaving those herrings?
Here. . . . (Alyson Nikiteas) TAK TAKSON: Hiss, Gertrudeling, ze mustard you pass?
ELK AARDVARK: Gertrudeling you calling her? Ilow dare you at ziss lovely lady flirt! For sixty years loving her am I and from me she alvays Miss Slcdpqvist.
GERTRUDE: For seffenty years loves me also does Mr Takson.
TAR: And calls her Gertrudeling if permitted. GERTRUDE: Alsp, a mustard-passing iss no flirt- ing.
ELK: Iss so yen fingers are stroking. Also, Takson voss married. Vooing you am I in single- ness since you iss tvelf. Also know you how Mrs Takson finish herself? In Svedish, lbsenlike fash- ion viss gun!
TAR: Oxhead! Ibsen not Svedish, Ibsen from Norvay.
ELK: Zat did not stop her. Satisfaction iss zus- wise demanded.
TAK: Iss accepted. Crutches?
ELK: Nay, swords shall it be. Von of us to perish. Zimmer iss allowable?
TAK: Agreed. Colostomy bag not be punctured? ELK: Agreed.
ALL: So! At dawn it Occurs. (Denis Young) OLD SVENSSON (93): All I said, Herr Bjorkman, was that Agnes here has a lovely little white moustache. What's wrong with that?
YOUNG BJORKMAN (80): It wasn't what you said to this fine lady, Herr Svensson, it was how you addressed her!
FRU LUND (82): Well, I'd like to thank Herr Svensson for his compliment.
BJORRmAN: Madam, though the compliment's well deserved — and, if I may add, you also have a delightful fluffy beard — my objection is to Herr Svensson's familiarity.
SVENSSON: Familiarity, young man?
BJORKMAN: Yes, sir! You called Fru Lund by her first name, a lady you have known less than thir- ty years. . . .
FRU Lump: Now, now, gentlemen, please stop this!
BJORKMAN: I'll not stop, madam, till this old wretch apologises — or I'll be forced to chal- lenge him to a duel!
SVENSSON: Then choose your weapon, BjOrk- mann: Zimmer frame or sword?
(Susan Therkelsen)