NEVER HURRY A MURRAY

I was busy dissecting a prehistoric man I had found behind the sofa, when there was a horrible scream from the living room. "TOMMY!" I yelled to my cat, "Are you all right? You haven't gone and accidentally hung yourself from the ceiling again?" Tommy rushed into the kitchen. Oh he did look pale. I swear I've never seen little Tommy so pale. His little face was ashen. "Tommy!" I yelled. "Speak to me lad, has the pound took a tumble, or is there trouble at mill?" Tommy looked at me, wide-eyed, oh I've never seen little Tommy's eyes so wide before, they were bulging out of his head, like two wide eyes. "He's-OUT!" yelled Tommy. "Who's out?" I said "Ronnie Briggs, or the Count of Monte Christo?" "Andy Murray!" yelled Tommy. "Andy Murray's-OUT!" "Out where? I said "Outside? Or out there! like in the X-files?" "Andy Murray is out of-Wimbledon!" screamed Tommy. "Serves him right," I said. "That's what he gets for going in." "You don't understand!" screamed Tommy. "The whole of Britain was depending on Andy Murray to win Wimbleton and now-he's OUT!" "Sit down lad," I said. "Have a nice cup of tea and a hobnob. Eeh Tommy lad," I said, "I don't know why you get yourself into such a state. Look at you! You're trembling and all because of a tennis match. For shame Tommy, for shame." Tommy put his head in his feline paws and whispered, "I don't understand. This was supposed to be Andy Murray's year and now he's-out! He was 30 love at one stage." "Don't call me love Tommy lad." I said "I don't mind, but people may not understand and point at me in the street, when I cart-wheel down the road dressed as Lloyd George." "Poor Andy," said Tommy. "Imagine how he's feeling tonight. He must be gutted." "No Tommy lad," I said. "It's only the tennis rackets that are gutted. Listen Tommy lad," I said, "Andy Murray may be over the moon. Now he won't have to walk about with a pocket full of tennis balls in the pocket of his bonny, wee, tight shorts." Tommy leapt to his feet and threw a rare Ming vase out of the window, knocking a singing nun off her bicycle. The tumbled sister got to her feet, let loose a litany of expletives and threw the holy grail through the hole in the window, knocking a rare Michelangelo charcoal drawing of a piece of charcoal out of its George the 5th silver frame. Tommy grabbed a Picasso drawing of a dog on a bicycle and happed it off the nun's habit. It's a bad habit to get into, but I don't think Tommy will do it again. The nun, who was by now full of the wrath of God and Red Bull, made a lassoo out of a Lourdes rosary, snagged a, by now furious, Tommy round the neck and dragged him out to the street. I ran to Tommy's aide, holding above my head a large granite Egyptian sculpture of the sun God Ra playing a bango and yelled, "Freeze Sister! Just put the rosary down and step away from it." Then, Jim Rodgers, wearing half a pair of knickers because of the heat rushed up and screamed, "NIGH-NIGH-NIGH! What will people think when they see this on CNN? A nun and a cat, brawling in the street, like two politicians." "She started it!" yelled Tommy, pointing to the nun. "And indeed and be-dammit, I did not!" said the sister. "Jim," I cooed. "Dear little Jim Rodgers. The reason for this affray, lies square at the door of Andy Murray, who goes round the country, impersonating a tennis player." "A serious offencem" said Jim. "I had a cousin who got six months for impersonating a duck." "What was the lad's name?" I said. "Daffy," said Jim. "Daffy McParland." It all ended on a happy note, I took Tommy, the nun and Jim Rodgers indoors and we all sat and watched Andy Murray get beaten again. "The best man won," whispered Tommy. "Murray did his best!" screamed Jim. "Dat boy was hampered by da auld net," said the nun. "Some one should have taken da net away, Sure there's no need for dat yoke, at tall, at tall, at tall." Wiser words I have never heard. Why don't they take the net out of tennis? It would make the game so much easier to play. And who knows, Andy Murray could end up the winner!. Just kidding, Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. AH, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!