The alternative Tam O'Shanter

So Nanny ran and Tam did follow
Wi mony an eldricht screech an hollow
Oh whit a chase, Oh whit a hunt
Wi Nanny jist a yaird in front
Ahint her Tammy raced and yelled
Wi love and booze fair jet-propelled
"When a get haud o' you ma girl"
"I'll squeeze you til a gar ye skirl!"
An auld witch screamed "The man's no canny-
Ah widnae trust him wae ma granny!"
An auld Nick shouted "Aye tae hell,
Ah widnae trust that man masel",
And cried "A guid pound Scots ah'll wager
That Tammy gets that wee teenager!"
Anither witch in answer squealed:
"Ah'll lay ye two tae wan the field"
An Nanny prayed "Oh gie me strength,
Tae beat this man by haulf a length."
But Tammy was a tough auld villain,
He stuck it tho' the pace was killin
An bellowed loudly at her back:
"Hie stop a while an gie's yer crack"
Said Satan, through his field-glass squintin:
"A damn guid joab she's dressed fur sprintin"
Aye Nanny lass, ye'd better sprint,
Fur Tammy's jist a yaird ahint,
In fact ma lass ye'd better gallop,
For Tam's inflamed wi wine an wallop,
His reason's tint, he's past a' carin,
Oh Nan, Oh Nan, thou'll get thy farin,
If thou and Tammas come tae grips,
Ma lassie, thou hast had thy chips,
She sprinted wondering whit wid happen,
An mair than jist her sark wiz flappin,
Said Tammy, as he cocked his ear:
"Whit's this flappin that I hear?"
He thought that fear had lent her wings,
but no - It was the other things!

Her hair was streamin in the breeze,
That sark wiz weel abun her knees,
And Tammy chuckled "Whit a tere,
jist like the auld 'Folies Bergere'! "
On on they sped, it's heavy goin
An Nanny hen yer slip is showin,
That sark was unco' short in places,
An Nanny fairly showed her paces
That cutty sark, as on they raced,
It billowed high abun her waist
And finished up a crumpled wreck,
Tousled an tangled roon her neck,
It garred auld Tammy larf an larf
Tae see her scamper in her scarf
An lood and shrill poor Nanny squealed,
Tae see her secrets, thus, revealed,
Noo Tam , wha had no effort spared,
Had nearly gained that vital yaird,
He muttered wi a nast lear:
"Ahm catchin up, her end is near
She's got such a lovely curve behind,
She beats Monroe and Dors combined!"
An looder still poor Nanny squealed,
As Tammy thundered at her heels,
Looder an looder grew her shrieks,
She felt his hot breath on her cheeks,
While Tam kept yellin "Come tae Daddy -
Ahm jist a crazy mixed-up laddie"
They belted on in richt guid style
And did the first four-minute mile,
Then Nanny, wi a final spurt,
Escaped, I'm glad to say, unhurt
She finished wi' that yaird tae spare -
Leapt on her broom and to the air
(Tho mind ye there was nuthin in it -
She beat him by a centiminute)
If she had failed tae reach the tape,
There would've been a case of ----,
She soared up skywards with a zoom,
Unclad astride that bristled broom
Aye she was driven frantic nearly,
The bristles tickled her... severely!
For as she vanished in the dark,
She left ahint her cutty sark,
For Tam had taken sich a grip,
The hale o' Ayrshire heard the rip!
He got the sark, but that was a'
The rest o' her got clean awa'
And there in baffled rage he stands,
Crushin the scanties in his hands
An sees young Nanny's lofty form
Vanishing amid the storm.

He muttered as he bit his lip:
"She's gein me - so tae speak - the slip"
There high into the wind and weather
Sailed Nanny in the "altogether"
(Ye see ah canny be sae crude
Tae use a horrid word as "nude")
Whilst Tam, the disappointed lover,
Watched her on her broomstick hover,
He roared and yelled completely daft,
And tell't her whaur tae put the shaft!
Of course sich language was a scandal,
For that broom had a six-foot handle
There Nanny hovered like a lark
And shouted doon a rude remark
But Tam was in a ragin' mood,
And his reply was simply crude
It really wis an awfu' shame
Tae ca' wee Nanny sich a name,
The word he used wiz short and blunt,
It really was - a direct affront!

When next the witches a' convene
Tae dance wi' warlocks on the green,
Nanny, of course, will no be there -
She hasnae got a thing to wear!
Noo Tammy in the tavern sits,
Describin a' the fancy bits
Though this was fair an that was braw,
You should have seen the wan that got awa!

The moral of this tale ye rotters
Is really for yer growin daughters,
If ere they meet a man like Tammy
Tell them they should run tae mammy,
Aye tell them to remember please,
How Nanny lost her short chemise!

Article contributed by
Mungo Henning
Ayrshire, Scotland