Larry and Mick Moan About Stuff

'And another thing,' said Mick; 'that new pasty shop claims it's a genuine Cornish pasty shop, and yet I've never heard anyone say "Bugger! or "There was hellup! or "Alright, my lover?'
'Or "Here, have some free fudge!' said Larry.
'Exactly!' said Mick.
'Well, it comes down to what I've always said,' said Larry.
'What's that?' said Mick.
'Respect.'
'Does it?' said Mick.
'Take the buses, for example...'
'I'd rather not.'
'Go with me on this.'
'Okay.'
'Take the buses...'
'...'
'There's whopping great signs plastered all over the windows...'
' "Plastered all over?'
'In a corner of one.'
'...'
'... which says, "Are you under 19? Please be aware that your bus driver may ask you to provide the correct ID to confirm your age. If you are unable to do so, you will be charged the full fare.'
'I know what you mean, Larry. I mean, how are you supposed to read your comic on the way to work, when you are distracted by these infernal signs?'
'It's not about the signs, Mick.'
'Oh.'
'May I continue?'
'Please do.'
Larry continued...
'And what do you think these youngsters do when confronted with these whopping great signs?'
" 'Whopping great?'
'About sixteen inches by ten.'
'I dunno,' said Mick; 'what do these youngsters do when confronted by these, as you say, "whopping great signs?'
'Are you taking the pittoodle?' said Larry.
'Would I?' said Mick.
'...' said Larry.
'Go on,' said Mick; 'tell me what these youngsters do, Larry...'
'...'
'...?'
'Well, they... don't!'
'Don't what?'
'Provide the correct ID!'
'Is that it?'
'No, it's not it!'
'So what else do they do?'
'They flaunt their youth...!'
'...?'
'... to all and sundry! All and sundry, Mick!'
'Terrible.'
'I know!'
'I mean, how dare they be under twenty?'
'I know!' 'You know what gets me, though...' said Mick.
'What?' said Larry.
'When these old men just sit there, coughing constantly.'
'Oh, I know.'
'And they're not even proper coughs! I'm sure they just do it to annoy you.'
'To annoy me?'
'Well not just to annoy Larry Lampshade.'
'Of course.'
'To annoy Larry Lampshade and Mick Mastodon.'
'Naturally.'
'And they don't even cover their mouths.'
'Madness.'
'Phlegm and spittle all over the shop!'
'Shop?'
'Bus.'
'Birdpoo gets me,' said Larry.
'Does it?' said Mick.
'Well not literally. But I'm constantly slipping on it.'
'Constantly?'
'Occasionally. I mean, why can't they clean it up?'
'Who, the birds?'
'Yes! Filthy blighters.'
'Disgusting.'
'Have you seen that 6-by-3 rectangle of it right outside The Gifford?'
'I think so...'
'It resembles a Pollock!'
'You can't deny them their artistic freedom, Larry.'
'It's not about artistic freedom, Mick. It's about common decency.'
Mick sniffed.
Larry shifted in his seat.
'I'm bored of all this moaning,' said Larry. 'Shall we have a game of tiddlywinks?'
'And a cup of tea?' said Mick.
'And some Chocolate Hobnobs?' said Larry.
'Why the heck not!' said Mick.
And so they did.

[ fin ]