Hamish McShanks

Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 10^th April 2005

I surveyed myself in the mirror pulling my outfit down a fraction picking some lint off my shoulder and having a quick twirl to admire the back. ‘Well Whaddyathink?’, ‘What do I think?’, ‘Yeah whaddyathink?’, ‘What do I think?’ the incredulity in his voice was hard to miss. ‘Yeeees c’mon what do you think of my outfit’, ‘Well it’s a bit difficult to put into words, no hold on here’s some that spring to mind, lard, bucket, trans and vestite!’

‘Oh aye and your quite the dream princess wi yer nip hanging oot of yer frock!’ he glanced down at his exposed chest ‘Oh for fuuu-‘, ‘At least I’m not putting out ye cheap slut!’ He indicated via hand signals that further input from myself was no longer required. I left him fumbling with the sellotape as I looked for a brush to comb my ‘hair’. Being of the slaphead persuasion the prospect of flowing locks had been quite appealing until I saw my hairpiece ‘sans’ packaging.

I’d held the offending article at arms length, only the very fingertips of my left hand in contact as I stared incredulously at the picture on the box. The packaging depicted a very attractive model wearing a shimmering hairpiece comprised of beautiful long sumptuous red locks. Whereas, and lets not beat about the bush here, what I cautiously held in my left hand looked like a shoddily disembowelled ginger tom. ‘I will be writing a strong letter of complaint to messers Hinge & Bracket I think’, ‘That’s animal cruelty that is’. I have to say it didn’t look any better on it was going to take more than a brush to salvage this. I did briefly toy with the idea of wearing the box and just cutting some eyeholes but that was just silly ….. and I burst it on the first cut anyway.

You may have guessed by now this wasn’t an ordinary Saturday night (no really) my twin brother and I were attending a ‘Murder Mystery’ party at a friends house. I say a friends house but we were in fact there at our older brothers behest. He’d waxed lyrical about how much fun it would be and that everybody was dressing up in period costume. ‘It’ll be a great laugh’ he said, ‘don’t worry half the folk are going as women’ he continued after revealing our ‘characters’ to us. We’d taken a bit of convincing ‘A Countess? Where the hell will we get gear for that?’ He assured us it would be no trouble and in fact offered to get outfits for us. This was where the alarm bells should have been ringing. ‘Ach well we don’t do much together’ I said to Fraz ‘We might as well, it will be a laugh’ he replied ‘Aye well he is our brother……’

He is indeed. In fact he’s the hugely unfunny soon to be ex brother that was dressed as the Gestapo officer and sniggering a lot as the Countesses Bogov & Frazina swept into the room to be greeted by raucous laughter and much flash photography. We were indeed a sight for sore eyes, agonised would have been nearer the mark.

We had made an effort! I was replete in a shimmering black number with a sequined neckline and barely knee length skirt (size twenty isn’t as big as it used to be) a nice long split up the side revealed a large amount of unshaved leg and the merest glimpse of stained y-front. My crowning glory was a pink feather boa and string of pearls. Countess Frazina on the other hand had gone for a blend of silks and furs. She was resplendent in an aqua silk dress. A fur lined Stoll draped across her strapping shoulders and an enormous muff of the brown fur variety. The blonde wig hinted at potential cuff and collar issues whereas the hairy chest and occasionally exposed nipple simply said ‘class’ or possibly trollop.

We looked at each other and then across to our brother who was halving himself in the corner of the room his face as crimson as the swastika round his arm. He hadn’t lied half the folk were going as women, but that’s because they were woman. We were the only ‘cross dressers’ at the party.

My twin brother took a step towards ‘Herr Flick’ before I jumped in front of him ‘Now now Countess Frazina mind your manners’, ‘ah’m gonaa ffffekinkillhim‘, ‘Have a drink dear and settle down’, ‘ahmgonnafeeekinkillthebas’, ‘Ha ha haaaaa a large gin you say’ I replied rather loudly while staring pointedly at him. I’m not sure whether it was the amazing psychic understanding that twins have or the fact I was standing on the hem of his frock but he elected to let my brother live for the moment.

The ‘mystery’ was to be played out at the dinner table and we all moved through to the dining room to take our seats. Our hosts had done a splendid job and the table was beautifully set. I noticed I was sitting between my older brother and ‘Kirk Ransom’ who was being played by Kenny ‘Oh it gets better and better’ I grumbled as I sat down. It was at this point I realised my dress was a fraction on the short side. As soon as I sat down my ‘knee length’ dress turned into a ‘baw length’ miniskirt ‘Jeeeesus Christ I’ve got wider belts’ I mumbled as I felt a warm breeze wafting through the holes in my y-fronts.

This wasn’t nearly as worrying as the admiring glances ‘Kirk’ was giving me. As the soup was being served he leaned over and whispered ‘Hello there gorgeous’ and I was immediately engulfed in an alcoholic haze. My perfectly applied make up started to run and tears welled up in my reddening eyes ‘Oh no he’s been at the cask strength whiskey again’, ‘What’sh a good lookin hic girl doin inaa inna hic place like thish?’, ‘It’s me Kenny’, ‘Yourluvlee..’, ‘it’s Hamish in a dress you fud’, ‘Oh you little tease opening your legs like that’, ‘Kenny you fecking dougball I AM A MAN!’ His hand started moving towards my leg and I’m afraid I was forced to get in touch with my feminine side ‘I’m warning ye’, ‘Hush my sweeooommpppff’

Okay technically my handbag got in touch with his spuds and he pitched forward into his soup but I feel I was striking a blow for woman everywhere. I was standing up for my sisters and wasn’t going to be treated as some plaything. I’d had enough of being patronised and talked down to by men! ‘I’m a person not an object’ I screamed as Kirk slumped under the table burbling. It was at this point I noticed the slack jawed expressions on everyones faces. Time for a swift sharp harp methinks …..

My monologue certainly seemed to have spurred countess Frazina into action as she was knocking seven colours of keech out of ‘Otto Von Pinckelwurst’ as I stepped over them and out into the night .

Doei

p.s. the butler did it