Quote:
Originally Posted by ShortNCuddlyAm
Meanwhile, in one corner of the lounge, a group of serious-looking chaps and chapesses were talking in hushed tones about whether there was a plant in their midst. Some favoured Fiona, claiming she was too serious to be serious. Others favoured Hugh, claiming he just didn't take things seriously enough. No-one mentioned Fern, perhaps because the noise of a small, plump game bird banging on metal in the corner kept distracting them.
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Quote:
Security, fed up by the noise, approached the partridge. "Oy. You. Out" he said.
"But I'm only making pans!" exclaimed the partridge "for Nigel" he added with a nod to the pianist
The security man peered at the pans "You're making them in British Steel?" he asked
"Yes. I only want what's best for him"
"We-ell, if yon Nigel says he's happy" he nodded towards the pianist"
"He must be happy" exclaimed the other, as Nigel stood up, looking anything but.
"Alright" said the security man, sounding adamant, " get out"
"C'mon Andy, let's go" said one of the partridge's companions.
(This short interlude brought to you by listening to too much 70s pop covered by a 90s new wave group)
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ahem. i would like to report that i have broken my groaning muscle. i am blaming you, yes *you*, that's right, don't try that innocent look with me, you're not fooling anyone, and will be sending you the bill for a replacement, as well as for a few dozen spleens. please remit by return of post, i have a strange feeling i'll be needing it back soon, and that those spleens are going to suffer quite a bit of wear and tear in the immediate future.