Friday 10 December 2010

8: Put A Sock Innit, Beys!

This 'un's when Oi got the 'ump abewt the flippin' hotrod banger-racin' bunch over Foxhall Staydium one evenin' - noisy gits!...

Caw, them blimmin' 'ot rods get lowder an' lowder, dun't ey? Sat sittin' 'ere tryin' ter watch the gogglebox, when up jumps Pogo (me mutt) and 'e start yammerin' fit ter bust, coz the wind's blowin' our way, an' them rowdy round-racerists are at it agen! Blimmin' rackit! Is it a rool that they in't allowed exzorst silencys? Dread ter think wot it's loik in the arena, never moind 'arf a mile frum it 'ere. Coodn't stop poor li'l Pogo's yappin' fer ages, poor li'l feller.

Come on, yer noizy oiks - stuff sum socks or brillos in the toobs, for peace's sake! It 'int roight...!

Trubble is, the rest uf us suffer fer ages parst race day, coz our mate Bernie Tupp's a keen fan 'oo goes ter the meets, gets totally deffened, then yells 'is 'ead orft fer the nex' few days cuz 'e thinx evry'un else's Mutt & Jeff as well. 'E never thinx ter take earole muffs, gets ringin' in 'is ears (fire alarm bells, we reck'n!) an' 'e c'n bellow fer England, Oi can tell yer.

'E used ter go watch the Ipswich Tracter Boyz, so e's 'ad lots o' yellin' practiss, an' 'e's got a strong pair o' lungs, that 'un ...which wuz very 'andy a whoile back, as it turned owt.

Y'see, Bernie used ter be a fireman, an' 'e wuz the unsung 'ero when the Farm'ouse Pub in Grainge Farrrm caught foire a few munfths agew. 'E dashed in, and ter evry'un's amazement, sucked all the smoke into 'is chest, ran outsoide and blew it all away. Not a single koff.

Folks said "'Blimey! Ow'd yer do that, matey?", an' e said, quoit modest, loike "Easy - Oi'm an ex-Tractor fan..."

G'nite!

(Oi 'ope they've sorted ewt the Farm'ouse - ain't been in fer ages, 'ave ter drop by fer a foo tipples, eh?)

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