“How are you mate?”
“Not happy Gaz, not happy”.
“Why is that me old china?”
“I was talking, in a very high voice, to a traffic warden from Penge earlier”.
“Oh blimey! Not her again”.
“Yeah, and I’m telling her about the best way to discover a previously unknown quantum physics equation…”
“What again?! I can’t believe the way you keep sharing your profound knowledge of quantum physics with that strumpet son! She’s got you wrapped rarnd her little finger mate”.
“I know! Cant get rid of her…anyway, there’s a knock at the front door”.
“What time was that then Clivey?”
“About one thirty in the afternoon Gaz”.
“You’re bloody joking son! For Gawd’s sake! Some people don’t have any decorum do they”.
“No, so I tells the traffic warden from Penge to hold on, and I goes to the door”.
“Who was it Clivey, go on mate, who was it?”
“Only that Moose from the Soz Satire skit I wrote”.
“Oh no! What the bleedin’ hell did it want?”
“Said it wasn’t happy with the way I portrayed it!”
“Fuckin cheek! Who the hell does that Moose think it is?”
“I know Gaz, that’s what I thought son. I was so shocked, me voice dropped to a deep baritone”.
“And then I suppose, Miss Lardy-Dah traffic warden gives you the elbow!?”
“Well she weren’t happy mate and no error”.
“What did you say to the Moose Clive?”
“I told it straight old son. I said, that’s the last time I write you into a skit mate”.
“Did it walk off with the ‘ump”.
“No, the fuckin television!”
This short skit was brought to you courtesy of The Fulham & Bethnal Green Lingerie Emporium “Flogging stolen undies down Roman Road Market since 1888”