pc“A mos-quito? Har har, ho ho, snorp—”

“Can I come in?”

“You’re not selling free things that end up costing oodles, are you?”

“No. I’m running from the mad dogs down your street, and need a sucker—”


“Oops. I need a succour. A refuge. A shelter from the storm and such, in accordance with your ethics—you wouldn’t deny a poor supplicant in desperate need of shelter, would you?”

“Of course not. Come in, my friend—drag up a chair while I put the kettle on for a nice hot coff—”

“Oh. I don’t drink with barb—  … er, coffee …”


“Sure. so long as it’s free—”


(Eeek!) … … … …—ly given in a spirit of charity, compassion, and refuge.”

“Here ya go—”

“I’ll use your toilet.”

“Sure—upstairs, first on the left.”

pitta pat pitta pat pitta … pat

Clunk. Whir. Click. Scraunch.

Trickle trickle tinkle—

. . . . . …………… . . . —PLOP!

click … errrrrrk …

pitta pat pitta pat pitta pat

“There was one of those silly ‘little-man-on-a-stick’ things on the door. I got rid of it—”

“My crucifix?”

“Yuk. Yes.”

“Oh … okay … … not a problem. Would you like to stay for dinner? I’m on my own tonight—the wife’s gone out with some friends. Line-dancing nite.”

“You let her out alone? Perhaps your son is with her, or your brother, or her brother, or her father-uncle-male cousin-nephew-grandfather, or your father-uncle-male cousin-nephew-grandfather, or—”

“No. Just herself and some friends from her pub-club.”

” …. …. ….”


“What were you having?”

“Pork sausage casserole, it’s my own reci—”

“No! Pork is foul filthy disgusting stuff. Here, I’ll empty your fridge for you and throw all the verminous excrements out—”

“You don’t like sausages? Not a problem. How about some nice pork tongue?”

“You aren’t getting it! Pork is the excretions of the Devil! I can’t eat something that’s been in so foul an animal’s mouth—”

“I suppose you’d love an egg, then?”

etc etc etc. You may finish it yourself; and now for something completely different— your Quote Of The Day:


Oink not.png

Oh dear.

But wait, it gets even more  better yet—

menu change.png

“Before you leave, what were you saying about your name?”

“It certainly isn’t Amos! Foul filthy Jewish-pig name! No, I am telling you—foul infidel dog—that I am a moslem!”




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