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Monday, 18 November 2013

In which One discovers the laxative properties of and M&S chicken pie…

‘Just press 3 on the controller and you’ll get Alan Titchmarsh,’ said I.

‘I pressed 3 and BBC1 came on,’ complained Aged P.

‘That simply isn’t possible, you must have pressed 1,’ snarled Moi.

Following a heated discussion regarding the pressing of 1’s and 3’s, Alan fecking Titmash was beaming from the screen with the look of  a self satisfied perv with a toothless grannie attached to his knob.

Any road up, One knows One should just put up and shut up where Aged P is concerned, but following an entire week of it, One had been challenged one time too many.

We repair to the pub…

Aged P     ‘I wish I could see the back of my head.’

Lovely One sat in confused silence.

Aged P     ‘Did you hear what I said?’  Went on the peculiar pensioner.

‘Yes I did, but I really felt that it didn’t require an answer,’ said One.

Face like a crumpled cadaver, she emitted a ‘Huh’ and one of the disapproving sniffs and launched into the daily ‘What are you having?’ discussion.

‘I’m having scampi,’ One replied, eschewing the usual Bear Burger as One is Bear Burger Bunged at the moment and shall be resorting to the psyllium husk with a matter of urgency shortly.

‘I don’t want scampi,’ said the Aged P

‘Well don’t have it then, have something else,’ said One, imagining poking individual gobbets of scampi up her shrivelled jacksie.

‘Well I want plaice, but don’t you think it’s funny to have salad with plaice and chips?’ she enquired.

‘No I don’t and if you don’t want it either tell them or don’t effing well eat it!  They let you get down from the table before you’re finished in here,’ spat One, knowing even as One said it that One should keep her trap shut.

‘There was something in that Marks and Spencer chicken pie,’ she went on.

‘Chicken perchance?’ One mused.

‘Huh!  You know what I mean, I haven’t been off the lav since we had it,’ said Aged P as the lunch arrived.

Bon Apetit!

 

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