Fuff and Son

Peter Fuff Jnr was educated at English public schools and finally at Oxford, which put a great finanancial strain on his family. Fuff Snr had to work evenings to pay off the boy's student union tab. Following in his ancestors' footsteps, Fuff joined the Royal Air Force at twenty one. He had first tried the Smith's at nineteen, but they weren't home.

Fuff Snr was proud. Not of his son, but his vintage coin collection, which he kept in a box in the shed. Fuff Jnr could only have been an air force pilot. Some years ago, his father had sat him down, stood him up again for dramatic effect, and said: "Son, I was a pilot. Your grandfather was a pilot, and his father too. You'll be a pilot. It's been my dream for you since you were born. On that day, I stood by your mother's feet with marshalling bats and waved you out. Now go and get an education, and if you pass your exams, you can have one of my coins." When Fuff Jnr graduated, he went to his father, extended his hand, and said, "Well?" Fuff Snr played the fool and only shook his son's hand. No coin was forthcoming. Fuff Jnr never forgave him.

Fuff Jnr's first mission ended in disaster when he was shot down over the ocean. It was a rough descent as he'd been up stretching his legs in the fuselage, brazenly ignoring the flashing seatbelt light. Fuff Jnr survived the crash and was fished out the ocean by a British rescue team. Back home, he had to have a toe amputated, but this was only for cosmetic reasons. Like some people have a third nipple, Fuff Jnr had had an extra toe. Now it was gone, he could take his shirt off at the beach. Fuff Jnr was a prodigal son returned home. A local newspaper asked Fuff Snr to comment on his son's bravery, to which he offered: "It means he's gallant, courageous."