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9leaguesofmirrors · 5 months

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The Debt Collector and the Sin Detector

This fic is inspired by @jfinb, specifically the hilarious dynamic they wrote between Reverend Bernice and Lisgoe. I had to write a fic where they met, so here it is!

Also, this might be one of my favourite fic titles I've come up with

ALSO also, this fic takes place in a world where Lisgoe finds out about Ross and Pauline doing stuff while he and Ross were talking, so it could be taken as a sequel to The Downgrade, but it wasn't intended as such

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of sex, cheating, and alcohol consumption

When Lisgoe skulked into the local bar, he was fuming. Having to walk in the rain, when he didn't bring a coat, after finding out the guy he was maybe-or-maybe-not trying to get somewhere with went and had sex with his boss did not help his hypertension

What made it somewhat better was seeing, as he went to the bar and ordered a beer, the Reverend sat in the corner of the room with a large brandy in her hand

"Fucking hell!" Lisgoe laughed as he approached her, beer bottle in his hand "Reverend Bernice Woodall, downing a drink like a champ!"

"Who's this twat..." She muttered, glaring at Lisgoe "What do you want?"

"I thought drinking was against the rules of the Bible."

"And I thought being a nosy little bugger went against the rules of society."

This just amused Lisgoe further and he took the seat opposite Bernice. He looked at her for a few seconds, taking a swig of his beer

"Come here often?"

"Why are you talking to me like a horny teenager?"

"I'm asking you a fucking question!"

"Drink your drink."

As the man sneered and leaned his elbows on the table, Bernice studied him for a few seconds. For some reason, she felt as though she'd seen his face before - or at least heard that disgustingly sexy voice before

"You ever been to church, Pet?"

"Fuck no!" He laughed again "I have a brother that's a Reverend, but we don't speak. I collect people's debts, and the shite I've done would send me straight to Hell - if I believed in it."

That's when it finally clicked, there was only one man in Royston Vasey that acted this dickish

"Mr Lisgoe himself," Bernice sipped her brandy "never thought I'd see the day."

"Never thought I'd see a Reverend drinking a brandy, but I guess there's a first for everything."

"If you had to sit around listening to a bunch of boring sods whine about disappointing Sky Daddy, you'd be in here everyday. At least you can punch them in the face when they piss you off."

Lisgoe made a face of agreement and drank his drink again. He'd almost forgotten about the fiasco with Ross until Bernice asked:

"So, what brings you here?"

That instantly made him clam up, glaring at Bernice slightly

"Since when was this a fucking confession booth?"

"I'm asking you a fucking question!" Bernice imitated Lisgoe's previous statement, which got a withering look in response

"What would you do if you found out someone you were seeing was bumming their boss behind your back?" He snarled before holding up his bottle "I've earned every drop of this."

Of all the reasons, Bernice wasn't expecting Lisgoe to be caught in a love triangle. He didn't exactly seem like the type to be annoyed over something like that

"She sounds like a daft twat. You're a cunt, but you're not ugly. And to wrap her legs around her own boss? Sounds like a dirty slapper to me."

"I don't give a shite anymore. I mean, do I look bothered? Is my face bothered, Reverend?"

"Not at all."

As they sipped their drinks, a neutral silence fell over them. Lisgoe was the one to break it

"And it was a he, he slept with his female boss."

"You fucking what? You mean you're a bum muncher?"

That got a slightly put-off glare from Lisgoe

"First of all, I'm not munching any bums! Second of all, just because I was with a guy doesn't mean I'm gay - I like women too."

"So you're a... what do they say? Bipolar? By proxy?"

"... Bisexual?"

"That's the bastard!"

Lisgoe shrugged, downing a gulp of his beer and slamming the bottle down with a satified sigh

"I don't label it. Only two things matter: either the other person has to be fuckable or I have to be really, really, really bored."

"Just make sure you get the boss out of the way."

"Piss off!" Lisgoe snapped, not showing any signs of offence "It's his loss, I'm a fucking delight!"

"You seem to be 2 shits short of a toilet in my eyes."

"At least I'm not wasting away in a little booth listening to people complain all day."

Oddly enough, the casual back-and-forth made Lisgoe feel a little less uptight about the whole situation prior. It felt good to have another person that was just as much of a foul-mouthed dick as he was - even if she did look slightly rotten

"About that fella, ever thought about revenge?"

Lisgoe looked at her, left eye twitching in confusion

"Your ex fling had it off with his boss," she explained "what better way to show him up than taking someone home? Someone that'll get Royston Vasey talking."

"You think I should pimp myself out?"

"No, you silly goat! I'm saying you should cause a scandal. He's an attention whore, so do something that takes that away. Plus, it might light a fire under his backside."

Lisgoe considered the suggestion, looking around at the people inhabiting the bar. Nobody was that impressive. In fact, they were unspecial at best and repulsive at worst - so nothing had really changed there

"Everyone here looks one cough away from death. I don't mind someone a bit older, but not fucking decrepid!"

"With the way your love life's going, you can't afford to be picky."

"Rude bitch! I thought the Bible preached kindness and shite?"

"I'm a Reverend drinking a brandy at one in the morning, do you really think I'm worried about a big book?"

Once again, Lisgoe found himself puffing out a laugh. It was an odd feeling; it was nice, but in a way that felt different to Ross. Less intense, more casual

Bernice finished off her brandy and placed the glass on the table, she then drummed her nails against the wood as she waited for the pleasant buzz of alcohol to hit her system

"Want another one?"

"Nah, don't bother."

"You a lightweight then?"

Bernice looked at him like he was the daftest twat in Royston Vasey

"Do I look like a lightweight to you? Can a woman not refuse a drink from a stranger? I don't want you using my body as a sex doll - not when I'm unconcious anyway."

"Fucking hell, relax! I'm not that twisted and I'm definitely not that desperate." Lisgoe finished off his beer "I'm asking because, shockingly, I'm enjoying myself. It's like talking to someone's batty grandma."

"Batty grandma!" Bernice was taken aback and apalled by the comparison "Don't take fucking liberties, Mr Lisgoe."

"You can just call me 'Lisgoe', nevermind that 'Mr' shite... unless saying that turns you on or something."

"I have a right mind to buy another drink just to lob the glass at your fucking head!"

Lisgoe smirked to himself, leaning back in his chair. He had to admit, talking to Bernice seemed to do a fair bit of good to his mood. It was a strange feeling, he felt more drawn to the Reverend than any other stranger, but not in the same way he was drawn to Ross. To him, they were in a strange middle ground between acquaintances and partners

"Got something on your mind, Pet?"

That effectively snapped Lisgoe out of interally berating himself and he turned to Bernice with a shrug

"Just bored."

Bernice's lips formed into a sly smile. She didn't feel a connection to the man in front of her - well, not a romantic one at least - but she wasn't blind just yet. She may have had a mild astigmatism, but her sight was fine other than that. And what she was seeing got her juices flowing... in more ways than one!

And who was she to pass up the opportunity?

"How bored are you, Pet?"

At that point, Lisgoe realised her game. Despite thinking that Bernice looked slightly decaying, there was something about her that suggested a decent lay - plus, shagging a Reverend was on his bucket list

"Really, really, really fucking bored." He shrugged "And up for revenge. But I need some help with that."

"Nothing like a revenge shag, is there, Mr. Lisgoe?"

Lisgoe got up with a devilish grin

"Knew that turned you on, you perverted shite."

*********************************************

Bernice was the first to emerge from her confessional booth, her knees slightly stiff as she walked out. She looked around for a bit before confirming nobody was there

Lisgoe then exited, zipping up his trousers and scowling at her

"Last time I checked, people don't bite when they suck dick."

"I didn't bite you, don't be a big baby!" Bernice snapped back "My teeth just grazed you."

"That wasn't grazing, Bernice, I have bitemarks on my dick!"

"Don't act like you don't like it rough, you're the exact type. Bet that boytoy of yours took chunks out of you."

"Yeah, I like to play with pain, but Ross never bit me on the tip of my cock."

"Well, Ross is currently balls-deep in another woman, so you'll have to save those fantasies for another night."

With a sneer, Lisgoe leaned his back against the confessional booth. To say the experience was pleasant would be unture, but... at least... no, it was just unpleasant. And it caused Lisgoe's mind to wander back to a few weeks ago. The memories weren't even sexual, they were just better than whatever the fuck just happened

"Now what?"

Bernice's voice, once again, effectively snapped him out of his own head

"I'm not fucking you again."

"Never said I wanted that."

A pause in the conversation

"You're a fucking terrible shag," Lisgoe said "but you're not bad to talk to. You're a battered old witch and I like that."

"Well, I like that you're a moody prick with a weird sense of humour."

"That's oddly nice coming from-"

"You also have a very nice moan."

"And you had to fucking ruin it!"

They both ended up laughing, a proper laugh that neither of them had shared before. The kind of laugh that felt satisfying in a strange way

The kind of laugh only friends share

A/N: This took longer to finish than I thought, mainly because I forgot I even wrote it. It's a little cursed and VERY silly, but it's also a favourite for that exact reason

#league of gentlemen #the league of gentlemen #tlog #joseph lisgoe #mr lisgoe #lisgoe #ross gaines #bernice woodall #reverend bernice #gainsgoe #gainesgoe

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0llieneedsrest · 6 months

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Double Take (i've posted this to a discord server)

[This takes place during TLOG Apoc BUT this includes everyones fav theatre company]

DOUBLE TAKE.

Rain. What a rainy and shite day. This was usually the normal weather for the town of Royston Vasey. But this would all change, or will it? We begin in the Chapel of Royston Vasey, where we are joining Reverend Bernice Woodall, who is not really committed to her religion, despite being a vicar. In the catacombs of the church, hid the theatre education company, formally known as Legz Akimbo.

Behind a locked door was the portal to the present day, which would have been in London where the League's office was where they were typing up other projects. Back to the catacombs, the boys from Legz Akimbo were curious as to what was going on. Everything wasn't how it was when they first came to Royston Vasey. When the troupe finally came out from the bewitched catacombs into the present day, something was odd. Too odd..

First thing’s first, Bessie, Legz Akimbo’s van (and Ollie’s pride and joy) had gone. “What’s happened to Bessie?” exclaimed the founding member, Ollie. No one answered. “Er, guys, look over there.” Dave, the last member of L.A.T.C said pointing to something very, very odd indeed. He had been pointing to what had been St Mark’s School, where they did Ollie’s (most likely) hated play of all, ‘Everybody Out’. The school was in fact boarded up. God knows why. As time passed, Ollie, Phil and Dave had been walking for what seemed ages, but managed to get to the heart of England. What was that, I hear you cry? Well, they had made their way to London.

However being from the area themselves, they didn’t recognise anything at all. “Phil? Dave? What d’you think happened?” The lead thespian asked. In short, the answer was a shrug from Proctor and a “I don’t know, maybe we passed through a portal or summat” from Parkes. Now walking through the streets of London, and attempting to get their bearings, they passed what would look like an office block.

They all looked up in unison. “Bloody hell.” exclaimed Parkes. The windows of one of the office’s had been open for ventilation to let air in.

There was some chatter in the distance which had eventually began to get louder. Oh dear. Oh no. The actors that played Phil Proctor, Ollie Plimsolls and Dave Parkes had made their way out of the office building. Naturally, the gang (Legz Akimbo) had hidden behind something big. A tree? No. Possibly a van. Maybe.

Anyway, they had finally semi-successfully hidden from Mark Gatiss, Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton. The League had walked past where Legz was. Thinking that the coast was clear, Ollie walked out from behind the random van that the three of them hid behind. “Come on.” the thespian hissed to the other members of his theatre company.

The short 5 '7 man thought he heard something. He stopped and then turned to see the big lensed thespian of Legz Akimbo. Reece thought he recognised who it was. A polite “hello” was exchanged between the two, as Reece walked on. Shearsmith, now being very, very fucking confused, thought he was having a very weird daydream back to when The League Of Gentlemen first brought in the sketch ‘Go To Joan Glover’ on the radio and on TV.

Nonetheless, he thought that someone was dressing like the character or something. “Reece!?” Mark exclaimed as he tried to get his friend’s attention back. “Reece? What are you..” Gatiss looked at Reece then at Ollie. “I thought, we- Oh no. Not now, not again.” Gatiss looked to his right, Phil walked over towards him. “So I guess this is a sort of creator meets the character?” he chuckled slightly.

Ollie has now met Reece and now Mark has met Phil. Where was Steve? “Hang on, where’s the lad that plays me?!” Dave asked both Reece and Mark. Well, Pemberton was actually standing behind Mark. The shock had got to him so much that he ended up hiding.

#ollie plimsolls #reece shearsmith

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