Shirley took Claybourne's cue and lined up a shot. She put a striped ball in the side pocket and was applauded by her co-workers, Betty being the loudest due to the four gin and tonics she'd already put away. Shirley got ready to take another shot but before she could strike the cue ball, Janet walked behind her and Shirley jerked. Her stick contacted the cue ball and it rolled forward a few inches, bumping a solid on its trip.
"Oi!" Shirley exclaimed. "What are you playing at?"
"I beg your pardon?" Janet replied, looking very cool and calm.
"You bumped me," Shirley snapped.
"I did no such thing," Janet simpered. "I merely walked behind you in order to acquire some salted cashews. I can't help it if your rear is so large that it hinders pedestrian traffic in a room."
"Oh, how dare you!" Shirley cried out. "You're one to talk, anyway!"
Janet cackled derisively. "My bottom is perfectly proportioned to my body. Yours, however, has more jiggle than a gelatine commercial!" And with that she gave Shirley's tuckus a hearty pat.
Shirley was seething now. James grinned appreciatively; any minute now there would be a saucy girl fight and he was practically in the front row. His glee, however, turned to disdain when Betty got up from her seat and addressed Janet.
"You shut your mouth, you nasty little girl!" Betty snarled.
"Cor, blimey!" Rocky coughed. "I can smell the fumes from here. No one light a match or she'll explode!"
Betty tossed her glass aside and launched herself at Rocky. Fortunately Claybourne and James caught her under her arms and held her back. That didn't stop her from tossing out a few four letter words as well as some garbled language that sounded an awful lot like, "I'll tear yer tits off!"
"Mrs Slocombe!" Rumbold cried out. "Mrs Slocombe, control yourself!"
Betty might have heard him but she was drunk and enraged. She kicked out and tried to free herself from the men, who were having a hard time holding on.
"Captain Peacock!" Claybourne squeaked. "I'm about to lose my grip!"
"Limp wrist failing ya, Ginger?" Brad jeered.
"Oh, it's ON, pretty boy!" Claybourne shouted. He relinquished his hold on Betty and both attempted to make a full frontal attack on the technicians. Fortunately Mr Rumbold was able to catch Claybourne around his chest and Captain Peacock latched onto Betty's arm, with Shirley grabbing her middle and James holding on to her other arm.
"What is the meaning of this?" Mr Weinstock demanded. "Have you lot been instigating issues again?"
Brad raised his eyebrows. "'Instigate'. That's big word for you, isn't it?" He chuckled and high-fived Rocky.
"How dare you?!" Mr Weinstock snapped.
"Because we know you're screwed for staff," Rocky explained. "And it's fun messing with this lot."
Betty stopped struggling and was helped into a chair. She was breathing hard, clutching her chest, and giving the technicians a very nasty look. Claybourne was put back on his feet, but restraint was handed over to Captain Peacock, who accepted reluctantly.
"That's it," Mr Weinstock groaned. "I'm done! I'm going back to Haberdashery. They're your problem now, Rumbold!"
"H-how do you figure that?" Mr Rumbold asked.
"I'm handing the reins over to you until Mr Grace can come up with a permanent solution," Mr Weinstock replied. He swung his coat on and jammed his hat on his head. "I'll see you all Monday morning. Good night!" And with that he stomped out the door.
Mr Rumbold turned to address the chemists and their technicians, but they too were putting on their hats and coats.
"We're outta here," Rocky drawled.
"Now see here," Mr Rumbold snapped. "I will not tolerate such behavior from my staff!"
"Bite my ass, Jug Ears," Dr Scott chuckled. He led the others through the door and a few moments later they all heard the familiar 'ding!' of the lift.
Captain Peacock released Claybourne, who had calmed down somewhat. "You see what I was talking about?" he said.
"Insufferable twits," Betty growled.
"Rude, vile pigs," Shirley seethed.
"Assholes," James snarled.
"Don't worry," Mr Rumbold assured them. "I shall be in front of Mr Grace first thing on Monday morning to address this situation straight away! Until then, I suggest we refrain from speaking to them unless absolutely necessary. Do not even look at them if you can help it."
The staff muttered in agreement. There was a scraping of chairs on the floor and a few minutes later they filed out of the social club and into the lifts. The barman heaved a sigh and closed up for the night. For once something interesting had happened on his shift and now he had some gossip for the boys in Packing.
Posted: 12:56 AM - Feb 17, 2012
Claybourne
Monday morning came sooner than everyone would have preferred and they all had to be there early for the grand opening of the chemists' shoppe. Mr Grace was wheeled to one of the counters, where Angeline Hurst stood amongst her natural remedies, and handed a speech.
"It gives me great pleasure," he read aloud, "to welcome you all to Grace Brothers' new chemists' shoppe on the second floor."
The entire store applauded politely, but there was some muttering among more than the first floor staff. Mr Lucas nudged Miss Brahms and pointed to Miss Featherstone of Bathroom Fittings, who was giving Dr Scott a very cold stare.
"What do you think's eating her?" Mr Lucas whispered.
Miss Brahms shook her head and they turned their attentions back to Mr Grace, who had stood up and was holding a small piece of paper in his hand.
"I...I shall now hand over the first prescription to our Dr Furter." He passed over the paper to Dr Furter, who read it and ordered Brad to fill it. Two minutes later he produced a bottle of pills that Dr Furter recounted before pressing a label onto it and handing it to Mr Grace.
"What's this for?" he asked.
"That's your prescription, Mr Grace," Dr Furter reminded him. "That's your heart medicine."
"Oh, thank goodness for that," Mr Grace said. "My new secretary has been giving me fits. Maybe this will help me calm down." He passed the bottle to his nurse, then raised his hand in salutation to the staff. "Carry on, everybody! You've all done very well!"
"Thank you, Mr Grace," fifty plus voices chorused in unison.
The crowd dispersed quickly; it seemed that hardly anyone wanted to stick around and see what the chemists' shoppe had to offer. Mr Rumbold could be seen chatting with Mr Grace, who kept nodding and finally motioned for him to follow upstairs.
"Oh good," Miss Brahms whispered. "Maybe he'll get something done about this lot."
"I doubt it," Mr Humphries said. "You remember what Mr Weinstock said Friday night. They're hard up for staff that will accept the wages he's offering. They have to take what they can get."
"Oh, let's not get into it again," Mrs Slocombe grumbled. "Come on, let's get back to our own departments and get ready for the customers."

Lunchtime couldn't come sooner for the staff, who had all gotten up early to attend the grand opening ceremony. After queuing up they trudged toward their regular table, led by Captain Peacock. However, just as they left the cashier he stopped suddenly.
"I don't believe it," he muttered.
"What's wrong, Captain Peacock?" Mr Grainger asked. Then he saw it.
They all saw it. And they were furious.
Their regular table was occupied by seven individuals in white lab coats. They were eating, drinking, and laughing merrily.
"Mr Lucas," Captain Peacock said. "Hold my tray, will you, while I address these scoundrels." He passed his tray to the junior and walked up to the table. The others watched as a heated discussion took place between Captain Peacock and Dr Scott. Then all seven gave him the two-fingered salute and blew raspberries. Furious, Captain Peacock returned to the staff and motioned for them to follow him to another table.
"But that's our table," Mrs Slocombe argued. "It's been our table for more than twenty years!"
"I know, Mrs Slocombe," Captain Peacock growled. "But at the moment it is being usurped by those...those..."
"Assholes," Mr Lucas suggested casually.
"That's not quite the word I was looking for," Captain Peacock sighed. "But it will do nicely."
They settled around a smaller table that had a wonky leg. Just as they were about to tuck in to their toad-in-the-hole, Mr Rumbold entered the Canteen and joined them at their table.
"I've some bad news, I'm afraid," he told them. "Young Mr Grace has heard our complaints but refuses to do anything about it. He says that until we can get some better staff for the chemists' shoppe we're stuck with the lot. I say..." He looked around at them all. "What are you doing at this table? Isn't your regular table over...?"
He spun around and saw the second floor staff sitting at the other table.
"Never mind," he sighed.
"It's a disgrace!" Mrs Slocombe snapped. "That has been our table for more than twenty years! Have they no shame? Have they no decorum?"
"Have they any idea who they're messing with?" Mr Grainger growled.
"What do you mean?" Mrs Slocombe asked.
Mr Grainger stood up slowly to his full height (which wasn't saying much) and addressed his co-workers:
"My friends, there comes a time in a man's life when he must stand up for himself and take what is rightfully his."
"And hers!" Miss Brahms chimed in.
Mr Grainger ignored this. "The time for manners, niceties, and politeness is over. They want a war, I say we give it to them!"
Mr Rumbold shook his head. "Now really, I cannot condone this at all!"
"Are you with us or against us, Jug Ears?" Mrs Slocombe snapped.
Mr Rumbold looked very taken aback. He stood up from the table and said, "Be it on your own heads. I don't want to know!" Then he left for the executive dining room.
"Typical!" Mrs Slocombe huffed. "Weak as water! I'm behind you, Mr Grainger! If it's a fight they want then it's a fight they'll get!"
"Now, I don't think violence is the answer here," Captain Peacock advised.
"Oh, I quite agree," Mr Grainger smiled. "However, there are other ways to wage war."
"What did you have in mind?" Mrs Slocombe asked.
Mr Grainger sat back down and beckoned them all to lean in further while he explained his plan.

The next day Mr Humphries was sent to the Canteen ten minutes early to save seats at the table for the staff. However, when they arrived he was sitting at the other table, but looking very confident.
"I see you were unable to acquire our usual table," Captain Peacock remarked casually.
"I'm afraid so, Captain Peacock," Mr Humphries smiled. "They were quite rude again, but I stood my ground. Or sat, really. Unfortunately that one called Brad physically lifted me from the table, chair and all, and placed me here."
"So, does that mean we're 'stuck' here?" Mr Lucas chuckled.
"It would seem that way, yes," Captain Peacock grinned.
"They're 'sticking' to their guns, then?" Miss Brahms giggled.
"Oh well," Mrs Slocombe sighed. "It'll get them in the end."
The staff were now fighting back their mirth and with good reason. Twenty minutes later Janet started to stand up and found she could not. She struggled and finally realised she was literally stuck to her chair. The others experienced similar difficulty when they attempted to rise. Only Sarah Jane was able to leave the table and only because she'd worn her lab coat, which prevented her skirt from sticking to the chair, which Mr Humphries had given a liberal painting of rubber cement along with all the other chairs.
The entire Canteen was soon roaring with laughter as they all watched the chemists and technicians struggle with their seats, which were now cemented to their trousers and skirts. Sarah Jane even snickered a little until Dr Scott snapped at her. She ran from the Canteen crying and later they all learned that she was also snubbed and ridiculed by the second floor staff. She was returned to her old position in Bedding that very afternoon.
Meanwhile the chemists and technicians were forced to go upstairs to Sister, where they had to remove their trousers and skirts and wait patiently for replacements to come from home (for you see, they refused to purchase garments from the store; they considered them inferior goods). Mr Harman was slipped a tenner by an unnamed floorwalker to slip in and take photographs that wound up in the staff magazine the next day - as well as in the hands of Mr Lucas.
"Cor, blimey!" he chuckled at their tea break. "Lookit that lot!"
"I must say, Dr Scott does have rather nice legs," Mrs Slocombe giggled.
"I haven't had this much fun in ages," Mr Harman grinned. "You lot let me know when and if I can assist you with any furver warfare regarding the second floor staff." With that he stood up and went back to work, for it was nearly his tea break.
"You know, I'm feeling a tad energetic," Mr Humphries remarked. "I wonder if they've switched tea bags to something stronger."
"Come to think of it, so do I," Mr Lucas said. "Maybe the Canteen actually used decent tea...oh...wow..."
"Are you alright, Mr Lucas?" Mrs Slocombe asked.
Mr Lucas' eyes were very wide now. He stood up slowly, bent over, and hobbled off to the men's room. Captain Peacock followed suit as well as Mr Grainger, who clutched the tables for support as he staggered through the dining area after the floorwalker.
"What's the matter with them?" Mrs Slocombe asked.
"Probably the same thing as me," Mr Humphries whimpered. "I think we were all slipped something."
"Like what?" Miss Brahms asked.
"Well, I couldn't help noticing that the natural remedies section had a few aphrodisiacs for sale," Mr Humphries explained. "And there are two in particular that might have been slipped into our tea. One of them is yohimbe bark extract."
"That's the impotence herb!" Miss Brahms exclaimed.
Mr Humphries nodded. "Not that I've ever needed it, but I know what it's for. A friend of mine is very proficient in homeopathic remedies as well as natural herbs. And, well, the other thing they might have used is...well, I have some myself and tried a little on my cat this past weekend. Not even ten seconds later she began howling and scratching at the door. Soon every tom in the neighbourhood was trying to get in."
"What is it?" Mrs Slocombe asked.
"It's something Mr Lucas gave me," Mr Humphries replied. "Called Funky Cold Medina."
"Oh, I've heard of that," Miss Brahms whispered. "It's supposed to make you irresistible to the opposite sex."
"Yes, well, fortunately I don't think they've gone that far," Mr Humphries said with a sigh of relief. Then he looked at Miss Brahms' cup. "You've hardly touched your tea, Miss Brahms."
"It's disgusting, really," Miss Brahms said. "I took one sip and spit it out."
Mr Humphries frowned then looked at Mrs Slocombe's cup in horror. There was maybe a drop left at the bottom. His eyes widened in fear as he looked up and saw she was staring at him. She gave him a wink and his lower lip began to quiver.
"You know, Mr Humphries," Mrs Slocombe said, moving her chair closer to his, "I don't think we've ever had the chance to sit and talk, one on one. How would you like to come over to my flat this evening and, ah..." She whispered into his ear.
Mr Humphries stood up quickly from the table, then doubled over in pain. Clutching his groin he limped toward the men's room as fast as he could under the circumstances.

By Tuesday morning the effects of the yohimbe bark extract as well as the Medina had worn off completely. But the memory was still fresh on everyone's minds. Mr Lucas was given a mission that morning by Captain Peacock: go to Hardware and gather whatever equipment he needed to secure the table for him and his co-workers. At twelve-thirty he was sent to the Canteen to carry out his mission. Mr Lucas saluted Captain Peacock with respect for the first and possibly only time in his life before hoisting a sack onto his shoulder and heading toward the lift.
At one o'clock the staff went upstairs, confident that they would have their regular table back. However, they were quite disappointed when they arrived and saw the chemists and technicians seated around it.
"Oh, that's torn it," Mr Humphries sighed. "We're never going to win this war."
"Where's Mr Lucas?" Captain Peacock growled.
"Mr Lucas!" Miss Brahms shrieked, pointing to the other table.
They ran over to find Mr Lucas' limp body lying on the table, tied down with rope and chains. His mouth was agape and his eyelids slightly ajar. Mis Brahms wept and pressed her face into Captain Peacock's shoulder. He comforted her while Mrs Slocombe stared aghast next to Mr Grainger, who made the sign of the cross over his chest. Mr Humphries choked back a sob as he pressed a shaking hand to the junior's forehead, smoothing back his hair.
Mr Lucas snorted loudly and swallowed a mouthful of drool, tried to turn over, then flatulated loudly.
"He's alive!" Miss Brahms squealed with joy.
"And he had eggs for breakfast," Mr Humphries coughed, fanning the air.
"He's been drugged!" Mrs Slocombe exclaimed.
"With what, though?" Captain Peacock asked.
Mr Humphries bent over and picked up a bottle with his handkerchief. "With this: zolpidem tartrate. Generic Ambien. He'll be out for at least twelve hours."
"That's a controlled substance, that is," Miss Brahms stated defiantly. "That's what they gave my brother last year when he had insomnia so bad."
Mrs Slocombe drew herself up and said, "Right. That's it! They've gone too far!" She turned on her heels and stalked away.
"Help me untie him, Mr Humphries," Captain Peacock said.
The two men released Mr Lucas from his bindings and together they took him back to the department. A camp bed was set up for him in the fitting room so he could sleep off the medicine. However, they weren't sure how much he'd been given so they called in Sister to check on him and advise. Just as the nurse was checking Mr Lucas' pulse Mrs Slocombe returned to the first floor, looking very triumphant.
"What are you looking so smug about?" Captain Peacock asked.
"Oh, nothing," Mrs Slocombe simpered. "Pass me that bust, Miss Brahms. It needs to be adjusted."
Miss Brahms gave a confused look but did as she was told. For the rest of the day Mr Humphries and Mr Grainger took turns checking on Mr Lucas, who slept very soundly.
"What will we do at five-thirty?" Mr Humphries asked Captain Peacock as he removed the junior's tie.
"I suggest one of us order a cab and either take him to his own home or give him shelter for the night," Captain Peacock decided. "Someone will need to keep an eye on him until the drug wears off."
"Fortunately the half-life isn't very long; two to three hours, if I'm not mistaken," Mr Humphries said.
"I did not know you were conversant in pharmaceuticals," Captain Peacock said.
"It's a common drug given for insomnia," Mr Humphries replied. "I took it very briefly. It works wonderfully. The only problem is that it can cause somnambulism, strange dreams, and amnesia. I took it one night and the next morning I woke up with a pair of hair clippers in my bed, lots of calico hair, and my poor cat Agnes was shaven clean!"
"You shaved your pussy?" Mrs Slocombe asked, for she'd been listening to the whole conversation.
"I did, Mrs Slocombe," Mr Humphries nodded.
"A remarkable drug indeed," Captain Peacock remarked.

At five-thirty Mr Humphries called a cab and with the help of Captain Peacock they used the camp bed as a stretcher and brought Mr Lucas out onto the floor. They had just finished wrapping his coat around him when a policeman and policewoman stepped out of the lift and came down the stairs.
"We're looking for a Betty Slocombe," the policeman said. "And a James Lucas."
"I'm Betty Slocombe," said the head of the Ladies counter. "And the poor unconscious lad you see there is James Lucas."
"Have you any idea how much he was given?" the policeman asked, taking out his pencil and paper.
"We've no idea," Mr Humphries replied.
The policeman sighed and made a few notes. "That's alright. We've still got them on the marijuana charges."
"The what?" Captain Peacock and Mr Humphries chorused together.
"The second floor staff," the policeman replied. "We received an anonymous tip that they were dealing marijuana under the counter. We sent an undercover officer in to check it out and just a few minutes ago we arrested the lot."
Mrs Slocombe tried to hide her glee but was quite unsuccessful.
"Even Miss Hurst?" Captain Peacock gulped.
The policeman checked his notes. "Er, no, we don't have a Miss Hurst here. We have an Everett Scott, Frank Furter, Brad Weiss, Janet Weiss, and Rocky Horror." He sniffed disdainfully. "Terribly fake. Pseudonyms, I'm guessing. Sounds more like the cast of a camp play, to be honest. But we'll soon have them sussed out. Right! I must be off. Have him call me when he wakes up. He'll need to file a report and let us know if he wants to press charges." The policeman then passed a card to Mr Humphries, tipped his hat to the ladies, and disappeared into the lift.
"Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs," Captain Peacock said with a smile. "Would you believe it? They've been dealing illegal drugs this whole time!"
"You know, I had no idea when I made the call," Mrs Slocombe said.
"You made the call?" Mr Humphries asked.
"I did," Mrs Slocombe replied. "You see, I've got friends in high places."
"Like who?" he asked.
Mrs Slocombe grinned at the policewoman standing next to her. "If I may introduce my dear friend here - Claybourne, Stephen, Shirley, Ernest, this is Ethel Axelby."
Everyone's jaws dropped as Ethel Axelby tipped her hat and gave them a smile.
"The famous Mrs Axelby," Captain Peacock beamed, taking her hand warmly. "We've heard so much about you!"
"That can't be good," Mrs Axelby chuckled. She looked down at Mr Lucas. "My word, you weren't kidding, Betty," the policewoman whispered. "He is downright adorable! Pity he's out cold."
Mrs Slocombe blushed a bit and pretended to fuss with her coat.
"What's just happened?" Mr Humphries whimpered.
"Ah, I shall explain," Mrs Slocombe said. "After we found poor Mr Lucas drugged like this I called Mrs Axelby, who was about to leave for her shift. She's a volunteer officer for Scotland Yard. I told her what happened and suggested that perhaps the chemists and staff were maybe doing other illegal things. She then called in her superior and arranged to have an undercover officer go in and try to buy some 'special herbs'. Well, I didn't even think of Miss Hurst. I mean, she hasn't the brains or the snarkiness to do something so horrible to Mr Lucas. But fortunately the chemists irritated her something awful and she went back to Novelty Candles right after lunch.
"Well, about a quarter after three I got a call from Mrs Axelby. She said that the police were on their way over to arrest the chemists and the three technicians, but to keep quiet about it. So I kept mum until now."
"So, really, you only reported that Mr Lucas had been drugged," Miss Brahms said, "and that the chemists were suspected?"
"That's right," Mrs Slocombe nodded. "The rest was good timing, I suppose. And I did have a bit of a hunch."
"Oh, there you all are," Mr Rumbold said, coming from around the corner of the men's department. "I've some semi-good news. The entire second floor staff have been sacked. Turns out they were dealing marijuana under the counter."
"So we heard," Captain Peacock drawled.
"Oh?" Mr Rumbold turned and saw Mrs Axelby. "Oh, officer! I'm glad you're here. I'm afraid we must file a report. You see..."
"I already know," Mrs Axelby interrupted, holding up a hand. "No worries. Once he wakes up we'll file a report and see if he wants to press charges."
"Splendid!" Mr Rumbold beamed. "Well, I shall see you all in the morning. Good night!" And he too disappeared into the lift.
"Well, all's well that ends well," Captain Peacock said, rubbing his hands together. "Mr Humphries, will you be taking Mr Lucas home this evening?"
"Why not?" Mr Humphries grinned. "My hot water bottle broke last week. He can keep the bed warm for me tonight. Come on!" And with Captain Peacock's assistance they heaved the camp bed into the lift and down to the ground floor, where a cab was waiting for them.

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 rip