The seasoned, Notre-Dame tour guide, stepped to one side, to allow the rest of his "party" to join him up in the bell-tower area, and give them a chance to regain their composure, along with their breath. "Ah so ! we are all 'ere in one piece, bien ! Now, as you will see, zer are four bells 'ere, in zis North Tower. But, zer is one more, much larger bell, ze great boudon bell , Emmanuel, located in der South Tower, which is ---" at this point, the guide was rudely interrupted, mid-verbatim, by the sudden arrival of a colourfully attired gentleman, hailing from the United States. " Hey, buddy ! Where's da Hunchback fella, Quasi-pseudo ?" he enquired, as loudly as the print on his shirt.
" Ah monsiuer, zis gentleman was, how you say, a fiction of your imagination, zer is not and 'as never bin a Hunchback 'ere, nes pas !" the guide tried valiantly to explain the lack of a vertically challenged campanologist, but to no avail. "Listen, bub, I paid forty - god dam - bucks for this tour, just to see the the guy in the movie ! I demand that I git satisfaction, or I want my money back, comprehendez vous ?" pressed the agitated American.
" But, monsieur, the bells 'ere are only rung by electric motors now ! It's true, that sometimes when we 'ave no power, Anton, the cathedral's maintenance man, can ring them manually," surrendered up the defeated guide
" Great ! well don't just stand there, git this Anton, fella out here, now !"
" Anton, are you up 'ere ? Anton, please come out , if you can 'ear me, show yourself, s'il vous plait !"
There appeared, slowly, from out of the bells shadow, a shambling figure, which moved it's way towards the now, tightly packed, slightly apprehensive group. As he drew near to them, his facial deformities became apparent. From the the nose down, the lower jaw was exceptionally swollen, distorting the natural order of his features, this abnormality physically forcing his tongue out of the side of it's mouth, resulting in a shotgun delivery of saliva every-time he endeavored to converse.
" Qui !" he answered.
" Ah Voila ! this gentleman," the guide gesticulated towards the overly prominent American, " has requested to make your acquaintance."
" To hell with meeting the guy, I jus' wanna see him ringing these babies ! I paid good American dollars and climbed enough stairs to reach the top of Mount Everest, so let's see these bells in holy action !"
With this, Anton stepped towards the smallest of the bells, and drawing it up to his chest he
sent it swaying across to the other-side of the tower. On reaching the zenith of momentum, it slowed and for just a second looked like it had actually froze in time, before making the return trip across the dark belfry. As the bell hastened upon it's sender, Anton skipped towards it, and welcomed it's arrival with a short, sharp, head-butt of the face ! Creating a unique musical collaboration - known as Gothic fusion - a blend of flesh, bone and heavy metal, resulting in an heavenly chime that passed through the little band of on-lookers, before leaving the tower and sweeping on over the surrounding Ile de la Cité .
The crowd were in complete awe and appreciation of Anton's display and rewarded him with high praise and wild applause ! Which in turn drove the highly impressionable, trans-Atlantic visitor, to such a state of elevated excitement, that he wanted to share in the ultimate Notre Dame experience himself. So, he grabbed the nearest bell to hand, and lifting it way up over his head, he proclaimed, " That's nothing ! Stand back Frenchie, This one will make the angels themselves, cry ! "
With this, he summoned every once of strength - and considerable weight - which he had at his disposal, and launched the bell along a similar trajectory. Unfortunately, the power behind this action, didn't permit as smooth a motion as before. The bell almost breaking free of it's fixtures and fittings as it jolted to an abrupt stop, on reaching "the other side", then without pause or loss of speed....it began re-entry.
This time, at the crucial moment of contact, the Yank made a fateful error of judgement. Miss-judging
time and space, he leaped up towards the on-coming holy vessel, all too late, the lip of the bell catching him squarely under the chin !
What occurred next, was purely answerable to the laws of physics, in-particular those laid down by a Mr I. Newton - firstly the law: That which is in motion will prevail.
Evidence: The way the body was propelled through the air, pass the remaining group and over the low, belfry wall.
Thereafter, followed by another - very popular - law of Issac's.....gravity.
Evidence: Sudden loss of height.
Anton, was stupefied in witnessing this horrible chain of events, but he still managed to set off
immediately, down the steep stone staircase of " Our lady of Paris" tower, in pursuit of his fellow "Ringer." But, even taking the stairs three at a time, it was still quite a feat, to descend to the ground
in time to aid any possible assistance or last minute rites.
A passing Gendarme had arrived at the scene, and was conducting his investigation into the macabre situation that lay before him. Using simple methods of deductive reasoning. he had come to the conclusion that the cadaver belonged to a male caucasian of middle age, no distinguishable marks - except those sustained by colliding unexpectedly with the earth - or any visible means of identification.
With no other lines of inquiry left open, the lawman resigned himself to asking for eye-witnesses, among the growing crowd. now assembling around him and his nameless companion,
" Is there anybody here who knows how this happened? Has anyone seen this gentleman, before ? PLEASE, DOES ANYBODY KNOW THIS MAN;S NAME ?" he pleaded. Just as he finished, Anton, finally appeared, bursting through the into the inner circle of observers. One hand clutching his chest - to prevent his heart from exploding out of it's comfort zone - and the other hand held high in the air to gain attention, without pausing or thinking, he responded, " I don't know his name, but ------HIS FACE RINGS A BELL !"
lifeandfunnies.blogspot.com
" Ah monsiuer, zis gentleman was, how you say, a fiction of your imagination, zer is not and 'as never bin a Hunchback 'ere, nes pas !" the guide tried valiantly to explain the lack of a vertically challenged campanologist, but to no avail. "Listen, bub, I paid forty - god dam - bucks for this tour, just to see the the guy in the movie ! I demand that I git satisfaction, or I want my money back, comprehendez vous ?" pressed the agitated American.
" But, monsieur, the bells 'ere are only rung by electric motors now ! It's true, that sometimes when we 'ave no power, Anton, the cathedral's maintenance man, can ring them manually," surrendered up the defeated guide
" Great ! well don't just stand there, git this Anton, fella out here, now !"
" Anton, are you up 'ere ? Anton, please come out , if you can 'ear me, show yourself, s'il vous plait !"
There appeared, slowly, from out of the bells shadow, a shambling figure, which moved it's way towards the now, tightly packed, slightly apprehensive group. As he drew near to them, his facial deformities became apparent. From the the nose down, the lower jaw was exceptionally swollen, distorting the natural order of his features, this abnormality physically forcing his tongue out of the side of it's mouth, resulting in a shotgun delivery of saliva every-time he endeavored to converse.
" Qui !" he answered.
" Ah Voila ! this gentleman," the guide gesticulated towards the overly prominent American, " has requested to make your acquaintance."
" To hell with meeting the guy, I jus' wanna see him ringing these babies ! I paid good American dollars and climbed enough stairs to reach the top of Mount Everest, so let's see these bells in holy action !"
With this, Anton stepped towards the smallest of the bells, and drawing it up to his chest he
sent it swaying across to the other-side of the tower. On reaching the zenith of momentum, it slowed and for just a second looked like it had actually froze in time, before making the return trip across the dark belfry. As the bell hastened upon it's sender, Anton skipped towards it, and welcomed it's arrival with a short, sharp, head-butt of the face ! Creating a unique musical collaboration - known as Gothic fusion - a blend of flesh, bone and heavy metal, resulting in an heavenly chime that passed through the little band of on-lookers, before leaving the tower and sweeping on over the surrounding Ile de la Cité .
The crowd were in complete awe and appreciation of Anton's display and rewarded him with high praise and wild applause ! Which in turn drove the highly impressionable, trans-Atlantic visitor, to such a state of elevated excitement, that he wanted to share in the ultimate Notre Dame experience himself. So, he grabbed the nearest bell to hand, and lifting it way up over his head, he proclaimed, " That's nothing ! Stand back Frenchie, This one will make the angels themselves, cry ! "
With this, he summoned every once of strength - and considerable weight - which he had at his disposal, and launched the bell along a similar trajectory. Unfortunately, the power behind this action, didn't permit as smooth a motion as before. The bell almost breaking free of it's fixtures and fittings as it jolted to an abrupt stop, on reaching "the other side", then without pause or loss of speed....it began re-entry.
This time, at the crucial moment of contact, the Yank made a fateful error of judgement. Miss-judging
time and space, he leaped up towards the on-coming holy vessel, all too late, the lip of the bell catching him squarely under the chin !
What occurred next, was purely answerable to the laws of physics, in-particular those laid down by a Mr I. Newton - firstly the law: That which is in motion will prevail.
Evidence: The way the body was propelled through the air, pass the remaining group and over the low, belfry wall.
Thereafter, followed by another - very popular - law of Issac's.....gravity.
Evidence: Sudden loss of height.
Anton, was stupefied in witnessing this horrible chain of events, but he still managed to set off
immediately, down the steep stone staircase of " Our lady of Paris" tower, in pursuit of his fellow "Ringer." But, even taking the stairs three at a time, it was still quite a feat, to descend to the ground
in time to aid any possible assistance or last minute rites.
A passing Gendarme had arrived at the scene, and was conducting his investigation into the macabre situation that lay before him. Using simple methods of deductive reasoning. he had come to the conclusion that the cadaver belonged to a male caucasian of middle age, no distinguishable marks - except those sustained by colliding unexpectedly with the earth - or any visible means of identification.
With no other lines of inquiry left open, the lawman resigned himself to asking for eye-witnesses, among the growing crowd. now assembling around him and his nameless companion,
" Is there anybody here who knows how this happened? Has anyone seen this gentleman, before ? PLEASE, DOES ANYBODY KNOW THIS MAN;S NAME ?" he pleaded. Just as he finished, Anton, finally appeared, bursting through the into the inner circle of observers. One hand clutching his chest - to prevent his heart from exploding out of it's comfort zone - and the other hand held high in the air to gain attention, without pausing or thinking, he responded, " I don't know his name, but ------HIS FACE RINGS A BELL !"
lifeandfunnies.blogspot.com
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