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Thursday, 4 May 2017

In which we're all revolting now...

Stumbling up the hill yester-eve One encountered a small, ugly crowd, arms folded defiantly and bearing determined expressions.

They surrounded a two-car parking space with a car parked horizontally across it.

'Good morrow, fellow inmates,' saluted One in their gen direc.  'Pray tell, are you awaiting the Uberlietenant and her parking police?'

Through gritted teeth they confirmed that, indeed they were.

General discontent was voiced by the gathering with varying degrees of rebellion proffered to contain the situation.

One threw the details of 'butt-gate' into the mix and was met with gasps of horror and tales of similar miseries endured by other inmates.

'You should go to court and fight it' was the general opinion, but as I know I'd be paying both to prosecute and defend myself, and being skint in the extreme and sporting ear-ringing high blood pressure and the memory of time on a high-dependency stroke ward, it can never be. One must endeavor to remain sanguine.

'Perhaps One should attempt to deploy Crowd Funding?', One suggested in not an entirely frivolous manner.

Anyway even in the unlikely event of a prospective purchaser being unearthed for the Underground Lair, One wouldn't be able to get away without the payment of many thousands of pounds, thereby leaving One without the proverbial pot to piss in.

The thrill of Butt-gate clearly waning, 'Parking-gate' has now begun, with which to fill the dark, lonely nights of our 'leaders.'

Rumour has it that they have purchased the redundant wardrobe of that 1980's popular comedy classic 'Allo Allo.'

The three costumes chosen by our leaders were: the policeman who began each sentence with 'Good Moaning,' the pneumatic Michelle, and Herr Flick.

No prizes for guessing who gets the Herr Flick costume, but we believe there's been a modicum of squabbling over Michelle's French maid's outfit. One simply prays that the victor in the ensuing scuffle shall be My Little Pony.

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