“Eeeee it’s grim oop north ah don’t mind tellin’ thee”
Scene one: A workhouse in Cleethorpes in the county of Yorkshire in the north of England. Mr Bumble The Beadle stands at the bedside of a deceased young woman and regards the bawling infant lying beside her with a baleful eye.
BUMBLE – Bah eck as like! I’ve not ‘eard sooch a bloody racket in all me born days! Send t’ little booger t’ work ‘ouse misses.
Scene 2: t’ work ‘ouse
OLIVER – Now then cook! Can tha give me soom more of t’ gruel by chance? Me stoomach thinks me chuffin’ throats been cut ‘ere! Eeee bah eck it does!
Scene 3: Mr Sowerberry’s undertaker’s shop
OLIVER – Bah eck ah’ll tell thee soomething for nowt, ahm not sticking round ‘ere to get anoother reet good walloping from yon Noah Claypole and ‘is missus! Ahm’ off t’ Bradford to seek fortune and to better me sen! Aye that’ll be reet grand will that!
Scene 4: Bradford. A bustling northern city.
ARTFUL DODGER – Eh oop young un! Does tha fancy goin’ on t’rob wi me and mates? Ah’ll tell thee what it’s better than goin’ down pit lad!
FAGIN – Now then young un, tha’s got to pick a pocket or two tha knows lad. You stick wi me and everythin’ will be reet grand!
BILL SYKES – Eeeee don’t tek on so wi’ boy Fagin! Ah’ll tek ‘im wi’ me and shoove skinny little booger through folk’s winders. Aye that’s t’way forward, so ‘and ‘im over
Scene 5: Mr Brownlow’s comfortable home on the outskirts of Leeds
MR BROWNLOW – Well ah’ll go to foot o’ owr stairs young un! Ooo’d a thought you’d turn out to be t’grandson young Oliver! Ah’ve never known nowt like it in ah’ll me born days lad! Now then, sit thee sen down and ah’ll get t’ ‘ousekeeper to bring thee some faggots wi mooshy peas! What does tha think to that then lad?
OLIVER – Eeeee that sounds reet champion Mr B. Can I ‘ave a few chips wi’ it does tha think?
THE END
Clivey Arkwright-Higginbottom
I think it’s time I wrote some proper satire instead of this lazy, puerile shit.
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Aye ‘appen you’re reet there lad
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Thas’ a reet cheeky southern p**f and no error!
My dad was once on a bus near Barsnley and heard the following conversation…….he initially thought there were speaking Japanese:
First woman: Oo wa shi wi, wa shi wi er’ sen?
Second woman: Ah shi were!
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Don’t call me a southern poof Touch. It’s deeply hurtful and also factually inaccurate
Due to the deep and lasting gloom that has descended on me as a result of your criticism I am now going to hurl myself into The Thames at Tilbury Dock and swim me sen to death. Here I go KERSPLAAAAAAASH!
UNH! :(.
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I’d say that’s harsh but fair xx
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I’d say you’ve got delightful feet but I don’t know if you’re prepared to accept the fact or whether you’ll report me to the foot police. 😦
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Eeee bah eck, that was reet good
how about a similar condensed version of romeo and juliet – featuring a lancastrian lass who falls in love with a yorkshire lad ? 😆
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Now then owr Dooncan. Tha could be on to a reet grand un there lad.
‘appen ah’ll set to wi’ laptop as soon as I get whippet out of t’ bath. The little booger likes to eat t’ coal tha knows. Eeeeeee this would niver have ‘appened if me mam and da had stayed put in t’ Isle o’ Dogs! 😦
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Now then! Southern poofter wreets nice, wi lots of nice words
an sayins, but, lets remember, ees still t southern pansy…
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