Originally Posted: 5:14 PM - Feb 12, 2012

Shirley Brahms was in a foul mood even though it was a beautiful spring day outside. She seethed to herself as she climbed the stairs to the first floor, as the lifts were shut off due to biannual maintenance and inspections. The walk usually didn't bother her, but this morning she was grumbling the whole way up.
Her supervisor, Mrs Slocombe, was already signed in and uncovering the counters and busts when Miss Brahms stomped down the stairs. She signed in and whipped off her coat, then became enraged when she noticed the wet spots under her arms.
"Bleedin' 'eck!" she snarled. "Stupid idiot! I knew I shoulda taken this bleedin' thing off before I started up them stairs!" She stamped over to the ladies' counter, much to the disdain of Mrs Slocombe.
"Miss Brahms, are you alright?" Mrs Slocombe asked.
"I'm just in a foul mood," Miss Brahms growled.
"Well, keep it to yourself," Mrs Slocombe snapped.
"Don't you start wif me!" Miss Brahms retorted.
"I will not be spoken to in that manner!" Mrs Slocombe stated firmly.
"Oh go blow it out your ass," Miss Brahms said defiantly.
Mrs Slocombe's eyes became very large and she puffed up indignantly. Captain Peacock, sensing danger, walked over to the counter anyway and asked, "Is there a problem, ladies?"
Both women whipped around to glare at him. Captain Peacock took a step back involuntarily, as if he'd just realised he'd walked into a lion's den.
"I-I was just concerned," he stammered.
"Bollocks!" Mrs Slocombe snapped. "You just came over because you thought there might be a cat-fight between us and you wanted to watch. But we're on to you, Stephen! So you just watch your back or the fur that flies will be yours!"
This time it was Captain Peacock's turn to puff up but before he could retort both women turned and went into the stock-room, whereupon he could hear them clucking to each other about what a pompous ass he was. Glowering now, he returned to the centre of the floor where he could sneer down at Mr Lucas when he arrived. However, he was denied this as Mr Lucas was already signing in under the watchful eye of Mr Humphries.
"Fifteen days in a row without being late," Mr Humphries grinned. "Must be a new record."
"It is, Mr Humphries, it is," Mr Lucas agreed wholeheartedly. "Mind you, I thought I might be a bit behind today when I woke up late and my mother couldn't give me a ride because her invalid carriage was broken down. Still, here I am! And with five minutes to spare."
With nothing to snarl at Mr Lucas about, Captain Peacock walked away and glanced at his watch. The boy was right; it was 8.55am. Mr Grainger, however, was nowhere to be seen. The thought of admonishing the old man livened him up a bit and he even smiled a bit in spite of himself. The delighted expression upon his face soon faded when he saw Mr Rumbold appear on the floor.
"Ah, good morning everyone!" he beamed at the staff. "I have a quick announcement to make. But first, Captain Peacock, I should tell you that Mr Grainger will be an hour late this morning due to a doctor's appointment. He and I spoke a few days ago about the matter and I gave him the green light to be tardy."
A muscle twitched in the floorwalker's neck.
"Now, gather 'round, everybody," Mr Rumbold called to the staff. "I have an important announcement to make."
The two men stepped forward and stood at attention while the women slouched miserably, their arms crossed over their chests. A very bored expression was written on both their faces as they watched Rumbold, who failed to notice their hostility.
"As you may have noticed," Rumbold began, "the lifts have been temporarily shut down for their biannual maintenance as well as inspection by the HSE."
"What's the HSE?" Miss Brahms asked.
"Health and Safety Executive," Captain Peacock told her.
"Whadda they do?" she inquired further.
"The Health and Safety Executive inspects a company's building as well as its equipment and staff to ensure that the health and safety of the staff is prioritised," Captain Peacock informed her. "They can fine a company for not enforcing safety rules, for shoddy workmanship on the building, or for lack of maintenance to the equipment."
"Grace Brothers will be bankrupt by the end of the day," Mr Lucas muttered.
"Grace Brothers will not be bankrupt, Mr Lucas," Mr Humphries stated firmly.
"Thank you, Mr Humphries," Mr Rumbold beamed.
"Mr Grace has a bit of dosh set aside for bribes," Mr Humphries whispered to his junior.
"As I was saying," Mr Rumbold continued, "they will be inspecting all of the lifts this morning, but they should be done soon. After that they will be spending the next day or so examining our work areas. Let's try to clean the place up a bit and do remember to follow all safety regulations as stated in your staff handbook, which you received the moment you were hired on."
"I didn't get one," Mr Lucas piped up.
"Neither did I," Miss Brahms said.
"Really?" Mr Rumbold looked a bit worried now. "Are you sure?"
"I don't remember getting a 'andbook," Miss Brahms told him. Mr Lucas just shook his head.
"Oh dear," Mr Rumbold mumbled. "Very well, then. I will have my secretary acquire two copies of the book and have them brought out to you as soon as possible. Until then, perhaps Mr Humphries and Mrs Slocombe would be kind enough to explain some of the safety regulations in use around the store?"
Mrs Slocombe cast a bored glance at Miss Brahms while Mr Humphries nodded politely.
"Excellent!" Mr Rumbold beamed again. Just then the opening bell sounded overhead. "Ah, the store's open! To your positions, everyone!"
He walked away swiftly toward his office, leaving the staff in the centre of the floor. They each shrugged and started to go to their own counters. Mr Lucas, feeling a bit frisky, waited until Miss Brahms' back was turned and pinched her rear affectionately. A split second later there was a loud 'CRACK!' and she had him shoved up against the wall, her fists gripping his lapels so tightly her knuckles were white. His face was just as pale except for a hand-sized red mark on his left cheek.
"I have had it with you, James Lucas!" she snarled. "You touch me one more bloody time and I'll break every bone in your hand and your arm!"
"Miss Brahms!" Captain Peacock cried. "Release him at once!"
"And you," she growled, relinquishing her grip on Mr Lucas and rounding on the floorwalker. "If you so much as look at me funny today I will have you on the carpet so fast the pile will be smoking!"
Captain Peacock became just as pale as Mr Lucas, who had slid down the wall and was sitting on the floor. For a moment the floorwalker was speechless, then when he regained his voice he stammered, "Y-you…how…how dare you speak to your superior like that?!"
"I say she has every right to," Mrs Slocombe sneered. "The way you treat women, I'm surprised you've not been sacked for sexual harassment or misconduct or…or whatever else they have here that's sexual!"
"I will have you know that I have always behaved in a manner befitting a gentleman," Captain Peacock argued, tugging his lapels into place.
"Oh please," Mrs Slocombe drawled. "May I remind you of Christmas party 1965? A certain floorwalker from Soft Furnishings kept chasing me with a strand of mistletoe dangling from a stick attached to a hat he was wearing, and wouldn't stop until he'd cornered me in the social club. Without going into details, the next thing I knew we were in a broom cupboard, me knickers were gone, and there were marks all over me neck!"
Captain Peacock blushed a little. "I-I don't recall the events of that particular party very well."
"Oh? Perhaps this might jog your memory." She opened a drawer and took out a pair of bright pink underwear. She then stomped over to the floorwalker and in one swift movement reached up and jammed them on his head.
Just then the lift dinged and a very miserable-looking Mr Grainger stepped out. "I'm sorry I'm late," he called out as he hurried down the stairs. "I had an appointment this morning with my doctor and it was over sooner than I'd expected, so I rushed over."
He came to the bottom of the stairs and surveyed the scene before him: Mr Lucas was sitting on the floor with a large red welt on his face; Miss Brahms was fuming by the ladies' counter; Mrs Slocombe was glowering at Captain Peacock, who had a pair of bright pink knickers on his head; and Mr Humphries was face-palming.
"Did I miss something?" Mr Grainger asked delicately.
Mr Humphries sighed heavily and took his superior's hat and coat. "I'll fill you in later," he said.

The rest of the morning was very tense and the men were keen to steer clear of the ladies for fear of being reprimanded or attacked, either verbally or physically. Only Mr Humphries seemed undisturbed by the current state of the women, although he still kept his distance.
"I don't get it," Mr Lucas muttered as he glanced over at Miss Brahms. "I chatted with her last night on the phone, havin' a bubble, and she was sweet as a nut. All of a sudden she's this nasty blighter. What gives?"
Mr Humphries looked up from his bill pad and rolled his eyes. "Clueless," he snorted.
"What?" Mr Lucas glared at him. "You know something, don't you?"
"It should be quite obvious," Mr Humphries said.
"What should be obvious?" Mr Lucas demanded.
"You really haven't a clue, have you?" Mr Humphries chuckled, then went back to his figures.
Mr Lucas stared at him, looking extremely agitated. Captain Peacock came over, apparently still looking for a reason to admonish the junior.
"Mr Lucas," he started, "Your spare time would be better employed in tidying up your work area, as per Mr Rumbold's orders."
"Not until he tells me what's going on with Miss Brahms," Mr Lucas growled, pointing at Mr Humphries.
"What?" Captain Peacock stared at the second assistant. "You mean to tell me Mr Humphries is privy to the cause of the ladies' foul moods today?"
"And he won't say a dicky," Mr Lucas snarled.
Without looking up from his bill pad Mr Humphries coolly replied, "Say please and I might."
"Please!" both men chorused.
Mr Grainger appeared from behind the cabinet just then. "What's going on now?" he demanded.
"Hopefully Mr Humphries is going to explain what's wrong with the women," Mr Lucas explained.
Mr Grainger glanced at his immediate junior. "And how does he know what's going on?"
Mr Humphries finished writing a few figures and closed his bill pad with a heavy sigh. He looked up at the men who were watching him eagerly. Shaking his head, he said, "Surely you must have figured it out by now, especially you two." He nodded toward Captain Peacock and Mr Grainger. "You've both been married, what, twenty or thirty years?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Captain Peacock snapped.
"Everything," Mr Humphries said. When they still looked confused he sighed and tried a different tack. "In all the years you've been with your wives, didn't you see a certain pattern? Say, once a month? All of a sudden they're moody and emotional? Next thing you know there's a bunch of Cadbury wrappers strewn about the place and they're screaming at you for something you did five years previously."
"Oh yes," Mr Grainger said wistfully. "My wife used to get that way on occasion. At least until about twenty years ago. She's been perfectly reasonable ever since."
"Come to think of it, my wife used to be like that," Captain Peacock said, leaning on the counter as he considered the matter. "She used to have these terrible mood swings until…oh, I don't know…maybe a year ago. Seems like she sort of settled down somewhat. Mind you, she still has her moments."
"Same with my mother," Mr Humphries said. He opened his personal drawer, took out a small book, and opened it up. "But then I started keeping track of when she'd have these mood swings and such and I found a pattern. Well, I was about twelve or thirteen and I wondered about it all so I asked my teacher about it one afternoon after class. She sat me down and explained everything to me. After that it all made sense and from then on I learned to steer clear of mother during her, ah, time of the month."
Mr Grainger nodded, but still looked puzzled. Both Captain Peacock and Mr Lucas exchanged looks of bewilderment while Mr Humphries face-palmed. He looked up after a moment and said, "Surely you know what I'm talking about?"
All three shook their heads.
"They've got the painters in," Mr Humphries said.
Mr Lucas shrugged and blinked. Captain Peacock raised an eyebrow. Mr Grainger just stared.
"Aunt Flo has come for her monthly visit," Mr Humphries persisted. He jabbed a finger in his agenda. "Look! She's right on time, too!"
"Shirley doesn't have an Aunt Flo," Mr Lucas said.
"Neither does my wife," Mr Grainger added.
"Nor mine," Captain Peacock said, shaking his head.
"You three have to be the thickest lot I've ever met in my life." Mr Humphries rolled his eyes, then gestured for the men to lean in close while he whispered. A moment later their faces bore horrified expressions and Mr Humphries looked relieved, although still slightly exasperated.
"Bloody hell," Mr Lucas muttered.
"In more ways than one," Mr Humphries quipped. He smirked at the men, who were disgusted and embarrassed at the same time. He glanced down at his watch. "Would you look at that? Time for my coffee." And with that he slipped away to the Canteen, leaving his co-workers looking very uneasy.

At lunch the men chose to sit at a separate table from the women in order to maintain some harmony between the departments. Mr Humphries still spoke to the women as he walked in with his brown bag and they responded kindly. However, he still joined the men who were huddled around a table together against the wall.
"There you are," Mr Lucas said when Mr Humphries came over. "'Ere, you seem to be the expert here. How long is this supposed to last?"
"I don't know," Mr Humphries replied. "I've found that it can be a few hours or a few days. It depends on the woman in question. I try to keep track of it in my little agenda, as Mrs Slocombe can turn into quite a dragon when it's her turn. Mind you, when they're in close quarters for extended periods of time – no pun intended – their cycles sort of start to merge and then it can be a living nightmare for all involved."
"Meaning…?" Captain Peacock asked.
"Meaning that the entire store could be on the same schedule eventually," Mr Humphries explained, taking out his sandwich.
"Blimey," Mr Lucas shuddered. "Can you imagine if they all got like this at the same time every month?"
"It'll happen eventually," Mr Humphries warned them. "It happened at this all girls school my friend Vivian went to when we were teenagers. She said within a year her entire class was on the same cycle. They would all get moody and emotional at almost the exact same moment."
"What if it's already happened?" Mr Grainger whimpered. "I don't know if I can handle it. I could barely keep up with my wife when she…well, when she still had…you know…" He cut himself off, clearly too embarrassed to continue.
"I rather doubt it's already happened," Mr Humphries said, picking at his sandwich. "It could take years, depending on how many women are involved and how much contact they have with each other.
The men nodded and grunted in agreement. Nothing else was said as they tucked into their meal.
Meanwhile, unnoticed by the males, two women joined Mrs Slocombe and Miss Brahms at their regular table. A moment later three more sat down. Then three more. Soon they were connecting tables together and chatting amiably amongst each other. Still the men talked and ate without worry.
All of a sudden there was an angry cry, a crash, and several chairs were overturned. The men turned to see Miss Brahms and Miss Howard holding back Miss Hurst as she tried to claw at Mr Fenwick, who had pressed himself up against the wall in fear.
"You chauvinistic pig!" she screamed. "First you sack that lovely Mr Beauchamp for being a woofter and now you try to grope me! I should duff you up right here, right now!"
"I didn't sack Beauchamp!" Mr Fenwick replied, still cowering. "He left on his own! And I didn't try to grope you. I was just walking by. I swear!"
Sensing danger, Mr Humphries threw his sandwich into his bag, chirped, "See you after lunch!" and ducked out of sight before slipping out the back door.
"Calm down, Angela!" Miss Brahms cried. "Violence never solved anyfing!"
"You're one to talk," Miss Bakewell snorted. "I heard what you did to Mr Lucas this morning."
"Like you've never walloped 'im for pinchin' yer bum," Miss Brahms snarled.
"After what I heard you two've been up to, I don't see why a pinch on the rear's so bad," Miss Howard sniffed.
Miss Brahms released Miss Hurst and went after both women. Mr Fenwick made a dash toward the Canteen door. Within seconds there was an all out brawl amongst probably every female staff member in the store. At first the men watched in amusement, then they saw Mrs Slocombe glaring at them. They looked at each other then jumped up from the table and raced after Mr Humphries.

Downstairs in the Bargain Basement, the men were led by Mr Humphries, who told them it was the safest place at the moment. They opened the door to the empty social club and scavenged for food behind the bar. Sadly, all they could find were a few packets of peanuts, some stale bread, mayonnaise, and a few packets of ham and turkey that were a day past their expiry. Still they took it out and formed an assembly line as they made sandwiches. As they worked together Mr Lucas suddenly looked up toward the door.
"I hear footsteps," he said. "Quick! Hide!" He ducked behind the bar, but Captain Peacock edged toward the door cautiously.
There was a tap at the door and a timid voice called out, "Let us in! We're frightened!"
"It's Mr Fenwick," Mr Humphries said, recognising the voice.
Captain Peacock opened the door and a shaking Mr Fenwick toddled into the room, followed by a dozen other male staff members. They looked pale, sweaty, and terribly scared.
"Oh thank you," Mr Fenwick said. "We saw you come down here, so we followed. We would have been here sooner but Mr Harvey insisted on stopping in the gents'."
"I told you, my prostate's acting up," Mr Harvey hissed.
"It's alright," Captain Peacock said. "You're safe here. We're all safe here. At least according to Mr Humphries."
"Yes, we saw you following him," a tall lanky junior piped up. "At first we weren't sure if we should do the same, considering his reputation."
"What sort of reputation?" Mr Humphries asked.
"Well, rumour has it that you're not exactly one of us," the junior said. "That you're a bit of a…what's the word?"
"A pansy," Mr Harvey suggested.
"That'll do," the junior nodded.
"Just who are you, anyway?" Mr Lucas snapped.
"Bert Spooner," the junior replied. "Hardware and Do-It-Yourself."
"Look here, Spooner," Mr Lucas drawled. "Mr Humphries is the one what led us down here to safety. He knows what's going on with the women and I'll bet my last quid he's got a plan to get us out of this mess!"
"Thank you, Mr Lucas," Mr Humphries groaned. "But I don't."
Mr Lucas rounded on him. "But…but…you know them! You know how they think! You know what makes them tick! Surely you've thought of something."
"Well, yes, but it involves being upstairs behind my counter with that lovely…" He stopped in mid-sentence. "No, that won't help us now…"
"Don't tell me he's our leader," grumbled Mr Tebbs. "He wasn't even in the military!"
"I was in the Navy," Mr Humphries retorted. "For a week or two, anyway."
"I think Captain Peacock should take charge," Mr Tebbs stated. "He's already a supervisor on the first floor and has an extensive Army background. He can lead us out of here and to victory!" Mr Tebbs stuck his thumbs under his braces and looked around as if expecting a rousing stir of agreement. Instead he received blank stares.
Captain Peacock started to speak when there was another knock at the door. He crept to it and the men held their breath in anticipation. Then a quavery old voice called out, "Help! We've got wounded!"
"It's young Mr Grace!" Mr Fenwick cried out. "Let him in!"
Captain Peacock opened the door to allow the feeble old man to enter. He was escorted by his chauffeur and followed by several managers. Two were holding up Mr Rumbold, who had gone very white and had a large lump on his crown.
"Good heavens!" Captain Peacock exclaimed. "What happened?"
"M-m-my secretary," Mr Rumbold gasped. "A v-v-vase of flowers…on my head…all I did…was ask…ask…for a file…"
"Touchy," Mr Spooner muttered.
"You would be, too, if you were dealing with what they're cursed with," Mr Humphries snapped.
"Cursed with?" Mr Fenwick repeated. "What do you mean?"
"Don't you know?" Mr Humphries asked.
There was a collective murmur amongst the males; they had no clue.
"You've got to be kidding me," Mr Humphries said. "Half of you are married or have girlfriends and not one of you knows what's going on?"
"I don't have a girlfriend!" squeaked a voice in the back.
"I know you don't, Mr Davison," Mr Humphries sighed. "And the answer is still no."
"Bugger," Mr Davison griped.
"Look, Mr Humphries knows what's going on," Mr Lucas addressed the crowd. "He knows these women inside and out."
"He should," Mr Spooner cracked. "He's practically one himself!"
"I'll smack your wrist in a minute!" Mr Humphries warned him.
"It's true," Mr Lucas said, earning him a reproving glare from Mr Humphries. "I've seen him dissolve into tears over the littlest things. He knows how to sew a button on a jacket and actually knitted me a jumper for Christmas last year."
"Then there's the Cadbury bars he keeps in his personal drawer, but hardly touches because he's worried about keeping his figure trim," Mr Grainger added.
"How do you know about those?" Mr Humphries demanded.
"I've been nicking one or two every once in a while," Mr Grainger chuckled.
"That explains why you had me measure your waist last week," Mr Humphries giggled.
"Point is," Mr Lucas interrupted, keen to make his point, "not only does he know how to deal with them, but also what to say to them and such to appease them. They respect him and allow him to move unrestricted amongst them. If anyone can get us out of this mess it's Mr Humphries!"
"For once I must agree with you, Mr Lucas," Captain Peacock said. "Humphries is the man for the job. Hands up those who agree he should be our leader!"
Nearly every hand was up in the air. Even Mr Spooner reluctantly raised his.
"I think that should do it," Captain Peacock nodded. He turned to Mr Humphries. "What next?"
Mr Humphries looked quite nervous now. "I…alright! I have an idea. First, we're going to finish lunch in here. We're going to have a very stiff drink as well. Then I shall go upstairs and check each department at two o'clock. If I can reach a phone I'll ring the bar to let you all know how things are upstairs."
"What if you're caught?" Mr Lucas asked, looking very concerned.
Mr Humphries shook his head. "No worries. They consider me one of their own sometimes. Even if I am caught they would assume I'd come to join them and allow me entrance."
"Wait a minute," Mr Spooner interjected. "'Ow do we know that's not what you're going to do, anyway?"
There was a murmur of dissent amongst them all. Mr Humphries rolled his eyes and shook his head again. "In all honesty I'm on no one's side here. I am but a diplomat. In fact, after that little incident with Beauchamp…" He closed his eyes for a moment. "Never mind. Just trust me on this. I won't let you down." He turned to the juniors. "Mr Spooner, please pass out these sandwiches. Mr Lucas, Mr Howard, keep making more until we run out of ingredients. Mr Grainger, Mr Fenwick, would you two serve as bartenders for a while? I think we could all use a strong drink."
The men did as they were told. Soon they were all munching sandwiches and sipping alcoholic beverages, which calmed their nerves greatly. Mr Humphries wolfed down his own lunch and kept an eye on his watch. At ten to two he crushed the paper sack and tossed it into a bin. Standing as tall as he could manage he started to walk toward the door, his back erect, his legs stiff, and his whole manner butch. Everyone stared at him; they weren't used to seeing him act so masculine.
"There goes a real hero," Mr Harvey muttered.
At the door to the club Mr Humphries stopped and took a deep breath. He held out a shaking hand for the handle and started to turn it, but his nerve failed him. Mr Lucas, sensing his fear, came up behind him and turned it for him.
"Do you want me to go with you?" he whispered.
Mr Humphries nodded. Mr Lucas tried to put on a brave face as he pushed the door open. A moment later they were outside the social club with the door latched firmly shut behind them.

Several minutes passed by without a word from the two men. Captain Peacock kept glancing at his watch, then at the phone. Mr Grainger passed the time by counting the olives in the tray on the counter while Mr Fenwick smoked a cigarette.
A knock on the door made them all jump and Captain Peacock ran to it. "Who's there?" he called.
"Packin' and Maintenance," came a thick Cockney accent. "Let us in!"
Captain Peacock let out a sigh of relief and opened the door. Mr Harman came in, followed by Mr Mash, Seymour, Warwick, and three others.
"Mr Humphries and Mr Lucas found us in the broom cupboard on the first floor," Mr Harman explained. "They said you lot was hiding down 'ere and we should join you."
"We've given 'em a couple of these," Mr Mash said, holding up a radio. "They said they'd contact us as soon as they reached the first floor."
As if on cue the radio crackled into life and Mr Lucas' voice came over. "Cheeky Monkey to Harman's Heroes! Cheeky Monkey to Harman's Heroes! Do you read me?"
Mr Harman held up his own radio. "I read you. How's the scenery?"
"The sea is calm," Mr Lucas responded. "I repeat, the sea is calm. It is safe to return to the first dock."
"That's good news," Captain Peacock said. Just then the radio crackled again and this time Mr Humphries voice could be heard.
"Blueboy to Bangers and Mash," he called. "Can you read me?"
"Loud an' clear, Blueboy," Mr Mash replied. "'Ow's the waters lookin'?"
"The sea is calm at the second dock," Mr Humphries said. "I'm going to check the fourth dock while Cheeky Monkey checks the third. We will rendezvous at the fifth dock before checking the pier."
"That's the board room," Mr Mash explained. He held up his radio and said, "We'll keep the lighthouse on. Keep us updated. Over and out!"
"I guess we can go back upstairs, then," Mr Howard said quietly.
"Yes, let's return to our departments," Captain Peacock agreed. "Mr Mash, Mr Harman, would you be so kind as to stay here and relay information to the men?"
Both saluted the floorwalker. "You can count on us!" they chorused.
Captain Peacock shook his head and beckoned to Mr Grainger, who abandoned his olives reluctantly to follow.

When they reached the first floor they were hesitant to step out onto the floor, but Captain Peacock crept forward slowly until he was sure nothing was waiting to attack him. He edged around a cabinet and glanced around the corner. He was shocked to see that Mrs Slocombe and Miss Brahms were chatting amiably at their own counter.
"Astounding," he muttered.
"What?" Mr Grainger asked.
"They're acting as if nothing happened," Captain Peacock whispered. "Look at them! You'd think they were mother and daughter the way they're getting on."
Mr Grainger peered over the top of his spectacles at the women. "You're right, Stephen," he mumbled. "I hope it's not a ruse."
"It's not," came Mr Humphries' voice from behind them.
Both men jumped and Captain Peacock cried out. Catching his breath he gave Mr Humphries a severe look. "How do you know?" he demanded.
"That's just the way they are," Mr Humphries said. He strolled past the two older men and took up his normal position on the counter. A moment later Mr Lucas bounded onto the floor and took his position as well.
"Well done, both of you," Captain Peacock commended them. "What should we do now?"
"Act as if nothing has happened," Mr Humphries advised.
"What do you mean, 'act as if nothing has happened'?" Mr Grainger sputtered. "Something did happen!"
"I know," Mr Humphries said. "But we must act as if everything is perfectly fine. If I'm not mistaken we're over the worst of it and by tomorrow everything will be back to normal."
"As normal as this place will ever be," Mr Lucas remarked.
Captain Peacock looked to be at a loss for words. In order to keep up his façade of authority he glanced around for customers then addressed the men by saying, "I think we should employ ourselves now in cleaning our department in preparation for the HSE."
"Already ahead of you," Mr Humphries said casually. "Mr Lucas and I have everything ready. Don't we, Mr Lucas?"
"Yes, yes," Mr Lucas agreed. "I think we might just get a gold star this time!"
"Yes," Captain Peacock drawled. "Very well. I shall see how the ladies are doing." Then he hesitated and looked at Mr Humphries. "Er, should I check on the ladies?"
"Act as if nothing has happened," Mr Humphries told him. "Go on!"
Captain Peacock nodded, tugged at his lapels to straighten them, and proceeded to stroll over to the ladies' counter.

"Anyway, we went down to Victoria Park," Mrs Slocombe told her junior. "And he was ever so polite. Not once did he try to kiss me or grope me or anything like that. So I thought it'd be quite safe to let him take me home."
"And did you?" Miss Brahms asked.
"I did," Mrs Slocombe replied. "And when we got there I asked him if he'd like to come in and see my pussy. D'you know, he became so excited he nearly dropped the bottle of ouzo we'd picked up at the Greek market. Good thing he didn't! That stuff costs nearly three pounds a bottle! Anyway, he came in and I showed him my Tiddles. He seemed rather disappointed, but he stayed for a while and we had a lovely chat."
"How long did he stay?" Miss Brahms asked.
"Oh, a few hours," Mrs Slocombe said. "And you know, I think that ouzo wasn't brewed properly or something, because I started to feel quite dizzy after a couple glasses."
"How big were the glasses?" Miss Brahms inquired.
"Oh, maybe this tall," Mrs Slocombe said, demonstrating the height by holding her hands roughly four inches apart. "And about this big around." She cupped her fingers to show the width, which was about the size of an orange.
"Did you finish the bottle?" Miss Brahms sighed.
"We did," Mrs Slocombe nodded. "And I think we opened a bottle of gin as well."
"Blimey!" Miss Brahms exclaimed. "You two were lit!"
"Certainly not, Miss Brahms," Mrs Slocombe retorted. "We just got a little tipsy, that's all."
"Did he stay over?" Miss Brahms whispered.
"Well, yes," Mrs Slocombe admitted. "It was quite late and he'd had a few too many, so I let him sleep on the couch. But he never set foot in my bedroom that night! The next morning he was gone. I haven't heard from him since."
"Shame," Miss Brahms said quietly. "I don't suppose you'll ever see him again, will you?"
"Oh, I dare say he'll be back," Mrs Slocombe smirked.
"What makes you say that?" Miss Brahms asked.
"He left a note saying he'd call me," Mrs Slocombe replied, "that I had the best pussy in London, and he couldn't wait to see me again so he could stroke it!"
Miss Brahms stared at her superior in shock. Before she could say anything Captain Peacock came over, smiling kindly at them.
"Good afternoon ladies," he greeted them. "I trust you're ready for the inspector's visit?"
"Indeed we are, Captain Peacock," Mrs Slocombe tittered. "Miss Brahms and I have checked every nook and cranny for dust and dirt. Not to mention we've discussed the safety regulations as well."
"Excellent," Captain Peacock nodded. "Er, carry on, then." And with that he walked away quickly.
"Blimey, he's acting strange," Miss Brahms remarked.
"Men are like that sometimes," Mrs Slocombe said sagely. "They get in these funny moods where you just can't talk to them. Mr Slocombe would get like that about once a month, it seemed, and you just couldn't reason with him. Eventually he'd storm off to the pub for a few hours and come back acting as if nothing had happened."
"Good thing us women are more mature and sophisticated than that," Miss Brahms sniffed.
"I quite agree," Mrs Slocombe nodded.

"What did I tell you?" Mr Humphries grinned as Captain Peacock strolled by. "Perfectly fine! And they'll get better over the next day or so."
"I will admit, you do seem to know what you're talking about," the floorwalker admitted somewhat begrudgingly. "I just hope you're right and that they don't have any more vicious mood swings like earlier."
"I think they'll be fine," Mr Humphries said. "Unless…" He poked his tongue into his cheek, as he was wont to do when contemplating something. "No…I doubt that would happen…"
"What?" Mr Lucas asked. "What could happen?"
Mr Humphries looked a bit concerned now. "Well, say someone were to go over there and say the wrong thing at the wrong time – and even I can't tell sometimes when it's the wrong thing or the wrong time – well, there could be repercussions."
"What do you mean by 'wrong thing at the wrong time'?" Mr Lucas demanded. He gripped Mr Humphries' lapels. "Tell us!"
"Calm down!" Mr Humphries snapped. He shook off Mr Lucas' hands and smoothed his jacket. "Look, just think before you speak and everything will be fine."
Just then the lift door opened and two men stepped out holding clipboards in their hands. Captain Peacock strutted up to them and said, "Good afternoon, gentlemen. Are you being served?"
The taller of the two puffed out his chest as if seeing the floorwalker as a bit of a challenge in pomposity. "We do not require service, my dear fellow," he drawled. "We are from the Health and Safety Executive, here to inspect your floor for safety issues and to ensure that your staff are well aware of the regulations as well as their rights as employees. If you could show me to the…" He glanced down at his clipboard. "…Gents Ready-Made counter? You may then direct my associate to…Ladies Intimate Apparel," he finished, gesturing to the shorter man.
Captain Peacock's face pinkened slightly from this obvious challenge, but he remained calm and smiled politely at the two men.
"If Sir would follow me?" he said, bowing slightly at the waist. He led them over to the men's counter. "Mr Grainger, are you free?"
Mr Grainger looked up. "Y-yes, I'm free, Captain Peacock," he replied.
"This gentleman is from the Health and Safety Executive," Captain Peacock said. "He will be inspecting your area. Would you be so kind as to guide him and assist him where necessary."
"Ah yes, of course," Mr Grainger smiled. "If Sir would step this way, I shall show you our stock-room first."
The taller man nodded his approval and followed Mr Grainger.
"If Sir would come with me," Captain Peacock said to the other, "I shall lead you to the ladies' counter."
"Jolly good," the shorter man chirped.
Captain Peacock ignored this and went over to the ladies' counter. "Mrs Slocombe?" he called. "Are you free?"
Mrs Slocombe glanced left and right before replying, "At the moment."
"This gentleman is from the Health and Safety Executive," Captain Peacock explained. "Would you please assist him by showing him your area?"
"But of course," Mrs Slocombe simpered. "If Sir would follow me, I shall show you our stock-room first, then we shall move on to the fitting rooms." She led the shorter fellow into the back while Miss Brahms checked in some stock.
Captain Peacock returned to the centre of the floor, whereupon he began his usual pacing. He looked over at the men's counter and saw Mr Humphries finishing a sale to a rather nervous-looking young man. Nearby Mr Lucas was attending to a middle-aged man by showing him some socks. Grunting his approval he started to glance over at the ladies' counter when all of a sudden there was a loud 'CRACK!' followed by shouting.
"How DARE you!" bellowed Mrs Slocombe from the stock-room.
The shorter inspector shot out of the stock-room, his clipboard snapped in two, and his hair dishevelled. "I-I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean you, ma'am!"
"You male chauvinistic pig!" she shouted.
"Mrs Slocombe!" Captain Peacock cried, sprinting over to the ladies' counter. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Ask him," she growled, pointing at the shorter inspector, who was now cowering behind the floorwalker.
"All I said was that blouse looked lovely," he whimpered, "and that my wife had one just like it, only she's a bit smaller."
Mrs Slocombe puffed up and looked as though she might breathe fire at any moment.
"Oh no," Mr Humphries whimpered. "He shouldn't have said that. He might as well have said she's big as a house!"
"What do we do?" Mr Lucas cried.
"I've got this," Mr Humphries said and whipped open his personal drawer. He fished around for a moment, then squealed, "My Cadbury bars! They're all gone!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr Humphries," Mr Grainger apologised as he came around the corner. "I took the last one this morning. I really should have replaced them all by now."
Mr Humphries became very pale and beads of sweat formed on his brow. "You fool! That was to keep the women calm! I always keep some on hand for when they get like this. You've doomed us all!"
"Not necessarily," Mr Lucas said. He jerked open his own drawer and took out an unopened Dairy Milk bar. Standing tall, he crossed the floor and went right up to Mrs Slocombe, who was seething with hormonal rage. She narrowed her eyes at him as he came closer, much in the same way a samurai sizes up his opponent before drawing his sword.
"What do you want?" she growled.
"I come bearing a gift," Mr Lucas said. He held up the candy. "You're looking a bit peaky. I thought this might make you feel better."
Mrs Slocombe's expression softened as she took the chocolate from him. "How kind," she said quietly. "I have been feeling a bit light-headed today. Thank you, Mr Lucas."
Mr Lucas bit his tongue in an attempt to prevent himself from making a smart-ass remark. He took a deep breath, turned on his heels, and walked back to the men's department where Mr Humphries was leaning against the cabinet. Wiping the perspiration from his face he said, "Well done, Mr Lucas! It must have cost you every ounce of discipline not to say something cheeky to her."
"She did leave herself wide open," Mr Lucas sighed. "Ah well. At least she's calmed down now. Poor ol' Peacock, he looks like he's been through a nightmare."
"We all have, Mr Lucas," Mr Grainger said.
The men looked over at the centre of the floor, where Captain Peacock was consoling the shaking inspector. Mrs Slocombe had opened up the chocolate bar and halved it with Miss Brahms. They munched it happily and their whole demeanour changed to one of peace and calm.
"Are they going to be like this every month?" Mr Lucas asked.
"I'm afraid so, Mr Lucas," Mr Humphries sighed.
"How long will this peace last?" Mr Lucas inquired further.
Mr Humphries dug into his personal drawer and extracted his agenda. He thumbed through it and replied, "If they all stay on the same schedule, we have twenty-eight days. So, until the eighth of next month."
"Then I say we start preparing now," Mr Lucas said. He shoved his hand into his pocket and produced a few coins. "I'm going down to the sweet shoppe on the corner and stocking up on Hershey bars."
"I'm with you," Mr Humphries nodded, grabbing his hat and coat. "Come along, Mr Grainger. You owe me eight Dairy Milks, three Curly Wurleys, and five packets of chocolate buttons!"

Fin.

Disclaimer: Are You Being Served? belongs to the BBC, David Croft, and Jeremy Lloyd. This is just a fan-fiction written for fun. No animals were harmed in the making of this fan-fiction, but Aidan the American Bobtail was irritating. No money was or will be made from the creation of this fan-fiction. A bunch of names were ripped off, but in all honesty, does anyone care?