So your Milkman, Bill, was 57 years old. How long is it since you paid for the milk? Is the price still 6d a pint?
No Speicher old chapesse.
The
bill is 57 years old, in fact ever since Grandfather had the previous supplier shot, some 57 years ago, (Those were the days!) for demanding payment of his bill, we have had this 'new' family business deliver to Byegad Towers.
The late milkman's Grandfather and Father knew on which side their bread was buttered and never got too keen on being paid, but the last one got a bit shirty about the bill when he took over from his Dad last year. As I told my Cousin, the Chief Constable of Durham Police, we have no idea how Sid (The Milkman.) managed to stray into the Wolf Pen and even less idea how he came to be naked and smeared with honey and minced venison.
Cousin Bertie, the Rozzer in Chief, agreed over a large and mostly liquid lunch that we'll probably never be able to explain it, and it's up the the local Coroner to decide on a verdict at the inquest which is Tuesday, as I'm busy tomorrow and can't sit on the case. Did I mention who's the local Coroner? Well of course it's me.
Meanwhile the minefield is properly set and visitors to the Towers are duly warned that, in the wording on the back of the Day Visitor ticket*, 'Your visit is on the strict understanding that you keep to the marked lanes on pain of death!
The SBGG has apparently been sighted away from his home in the People's Democratic Republic of Rawmarsh on his War Chariot, a heavily converted Motor Tricycle. The local Durham Constabulary have orders to shoot on sight after whispering
'I believe you are a weapon of mass destruction and hereby claim my reward of $1 000 000 for potting the Joker in the Pentagon's pack of cards.' So all is well.
*Only £25 and a free visit to the dungeons if you try to misappropriate the family silver, upset Lady Byegad or try to speak to His Lordship**.
** Me!
