Saint ***butt’s Home for the Elderly and Unstable
Chapter Oneizzle
Saint Whorebutt’s Home for the Elderly and Unstable
Established 2048
2068 Brochure
Here at Saint Whorebutt’s, we really care for the aged and decrepit members of the musical community.
Now in our 20th year of providing care, we believe in good old fashioned values, and so we run the as if it were the very beginning of the century. Because this was the time at which many of our residents were at their most successful, they find a sense of peacefulness and belonging.
Visiting hours are very flexible, and overnight accommodation is available for visitors at a small extra cost*.
Ex-patrons (May they Rest in Peace) include Matt Bellamy, Dave Grohl, Billie Joe Armstrong and many more**!
So, if you want the best for your elderly relative, call 0800-KRUSTY Today!
*$256 per person per nigh, meals and VAT not included
**Less valued clients include Dolly Parton and Chad Kroeger, but please don’t judge us on that.
Call now for a complimentary ballpoint pen!
Mikey put down the leaflet, sighing. He still wasn’t sure about putting Gerard in Saint Whorebutt’s. For a start, it would make him the only one not in care.
Ray had been the first to go, claiming that he needed the assistance of the nurses to wash his ‘fro because his back wasn’t up to it any more. Frank had gone in a few months later, when his great grandchildren had finally had enough of his incontinency. And Bob had been living there since being declared clinically insane last October. It would be terribly lonely, especially after poor Alicia’s death. But Gerard's Alzheimer’s had really gotten too much for Mikey to handle.
Anyway, it was too late for second thoughts now. Mikey sighed again (something he seemed to be doing more and more often in his old age) and got out of the car. He quickly unfolded the wheelchair from the trunk, heaved Gerard into it, and set off towards the home.
A smiling nurse answered the door after only one knock.
“Hello, you must be the Way brothers! Welcome to Saint Whorebutt’s!”
“Thanks…” said Mikey, wheeling Gerard inside. As soon as he got through the door, he couldn’t help but gasp. It was huge!!! Like, even bigger than the Chateaux de Way which Gerard had had built for them in the south of france, back in the 2020’s. And that had been tres grande.
“Now,” continued the nurse, “we’ll just give you a quick tour before you sign Gerard's papers, shall we?”
Mikey obediently followed, pushing Gerard along through the dining hall, the theatre, the opera house, the four indoor swimming pools, the Scooby-Doo collectable memorabilia room, the various instrument rooms, the cheese tasting room, the aquarium and the library. I won’t bore you with the details, but they were awesome.
“And here’s the living room,” the permanently peppy nurse announced. “Most of our residents are asleep right now, but I think a few of them are still awake.”
They stepped through the door. (Well, Gerard rolled, but you get the idea).
The first thing that caught Mikey’s eye was Rays ‘fro. It was (somehow) even bigger and puffier than the last time he’s seen it, which really was saying something. Frank squealed, wet himself with the excitement of it all, and fainted. Gerard wheeled over to him to try and wake him up. Bob just sat there, mumbling to himself and drooling slightly.
All of a sudden, Mikey heard two yells.
“You!”
“You!”
He looked around, and said some very un-pensioner-ish words inside his head. Gerard had seen Bert McCracken. This would not end well.
Fortunately, the excitement of the encounter was a little too much for Bert, who had a coughing fit and had to be carried away by some nurses.
“Mikey?”
He recognised that voice.
“Pete?!”
It certainly sounded like Pete. But he didn’t look a day older than 55.
“How can you still be so young?!” Exclaimed Mikey.
“I’m immortal,” replied Pete in a ‘duh’ voice. “I’m only here because Patrick was too scared to stay on his own.” He indicated towards a small, watery-eyed man on his right, clutching a blanket and looking terrified of the new people. And beside him was the oldest looking dog ever. In fact, it seemed to be more wrinkle than dog.
Seeing his gaze, Pete said “That’s Hemmingway’s Great-Great-Great-Grandpuppy. I call him Hemmingway the 64th.”
Before Mikey had chance to tell him how original that was, the nurse bustled back in, saying that they had to get Gerard's papers signed so that he could get settled in before warm milk and a storybook at bedtime.
On their way back to reception, Mikey suddenly smelled something coming from a room on his left. It smelled of bubblegum and candyfloss; of rainbows and sunshine; of hopes and dreams.
“What’s in there?” asked Mikey, desperate to know the source of this wonderful aroma.
“That sir?” replied the nurse, “that’s the indoor garden and unicorn stables.”
By the time they got to reception, Mikey had already made up his mind.
“Would it be possible to put myself in care here too?”
Eventually the nurse realised that he wasn’t joking.
“Well… it’s highly unusual… we wouldn’t be able to give you a second complimentary ballpoint pen.”
Mikey considered.
“I suppose the one I’ve got will last for a while yet.”
“Well then,” ginned the nurse, delighted at the idea of two more rock stars added onto her paycheque, “just sign here and you two will be official residents!”
Mikey grinned as he signed the two forms. Well, he thought to himself, I have been sighing rather a lot recently.
Established 2048
2068 Brochure
Here at Saint Whorebutt’s, we really care for the aged and decrepit members of the musical community.
Now in our 20th year of providing care, we believe in good old fashioned values, and so we run the as if it were the very beginning of the century. Because this was the time at which many of our residents were at their most successful, they find a sense of peacefulness and belonging.
Visiting hours are very flexible, and overnight accommodation is available for visitors at a small extra cost*.
Ex-patrons (May they Rest in Peace) include Matt Bellamy, Dave Grohl, Billie Joe Armstrong and many more**!
So, if you want the best for your elderly relative, call 0800-KRUSTY Today!
*$256 per person per nigh, meals and VAT not included
**Less valued clients include Dolly Parton and Chad Kroeger, but please don’t judge us on that.
Call now for a complimentary ballpoint pen!
Mikey put down the leaflet, sighing. He still wasn’t sure about putting Gerard in Saint Whorebutt’s. For a start, it would make him the only one not in care.
Ray had been the first to go, claiming that he needed the assistance of the nurses to wash his ‘fro because his back wasn’t up to it any more. Frank had gone in a few months later, when his great grandchildren had finally had enough of his incontinency. And Bob had been living there since being declared clinically insane last October. It would be terribly lonely, especially after poor Alicia’s death. But Gerard's Alzheimer’s had really gotten too much for Mikey to handle.
Anyway, it was too late for second thoughts now. Mikey sighed again (something he seemed to be doing more and more often in his old age) and got out of the car. He quickly unfolded the wheelchair from the trunk, heaved Gerard into it, and set off towards the home.
A smiling nurse answered the door after only one knock.
“Hello, you must be the Way brothers! Welcome to Saint Whorebutt’s!”
“Thanks…” said Mikey, wheeling Gerard inside. As soon as he got through the door, he couldn’t help but gasp. It was huge!!! Like, even bigger than the Chateaux de Way which Gerard had had built for them in the south of france, back in the 2020’s. And that had been tres grande.
“Now,” continued the nurse, “we’ll just give you a quick tour before you sign Gerard's papers, shall we?”
Mikey obediently followed, pushing Gerard along through the dining hall, the theatre, the opera house, the four indoor swimming pools, the Scooby-Doo collectable memorabilia room, the various instrument rooms, the cheese tasting room, the aquarium and the library. I won’t bore you with the details, but they were awesome.
“And here’s the living room,” the permanently peppy nurse announced. “Most of our residents are asleep right now, but I think a few of them are still awake.”
They stepped through the door. (Well, Gerard rolled, but you get the idea).
The first thing that caught Mikey’s eye was Rays ‘fro. It was (somehow) even bigger and puffier than the last time he’s seen it, which really was saying something. Frank squealed, wet himself with the excitement of it all, and fainted. Gerard wheeled over to him to try and wake him up. Bob just sat there, mumbling to himself and drooling slightly.
All of a sudden, Mikey heard two yells.
“You!”
“You!”
He looked around, and said some very un-pensioner-ish words inside his head. Gerard had seen Bert McCracken. This would not end well.
Fortunately, the excitement of the encounter was a little too much for Bert, who had a coughing fit and had to be carried away by some nurses.
“Mikey?”
He recognised that voice.
“Pete?!”
It certainly sounded like Pete. But he didn’t look a day older than 55.
“How can you still be so young?!” Exclaimed Mikey.
“I’m immortal,” replied Pete in a ‘duh’ voice. “I’m only here because Patrick was too scared to stay on his own.” He indicated towards a small, watery-eyed man on his right, clutching a blanket and looking terrified of the new people. And beside him was the oldest looking dog ever. In fact, it seemed to be more wrinkle than dog.
Seeing his gaze, Pete said “That’s Hemmingway’s Great-Great-Great-Grandpuppy. I call him Hemmingway the 64th.”
Before Mikey had chance to tell him how original that was, the nurse bustled back in, saying that they had to get Gerard's papers signed so that he could get settled in before warm milk and a storybook at bedtime.
On their way back to reception, Mikey suddenly smelled something coming from a room on his left. It smelled of bubblegum and candyfloss; of rainbows and sunshine; of hopes and dreams.
“What’s in there?” asked Mikey, desperate to know the source of this wonderful aroma.
“That sir?” replied the nurse, “that’s the indoor garden and unicorn stables.”
By the time they got to reception, Mikey had already made up his mind.
“Would it be possible to put myself in care here too?”
Eventually the nurse realised that he wasn’t joking.
“Well… it’s highly unusual… we wouldn’t be able to give you a second complimentary ballpoint pen.”
Mikey considered.
“I suppose the one I’ve got will last for a while yet.”
“Well then,” ginned the nurse, delighted at the idea of two more rock stars added onto her paycheque, “just sign here and you two will be official residents!”
Mikey grinned as he signed the two forms. Well, he thought to himself, I have been sighing rather a lot recently.
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Duuudes, I suck at writing comedy. But whatever. Morgan will make it wonderful next chapter =)Susie x