PIRATES

Tommy my cat sat in a leather armchair, wearing a lovely vivid pink tank top and a pair of tight hot pants in a striking shade of tangerine and said,

"I'm worried about the two lads out there on their own. I hope they took enough salt pork and toilet roll."

"Don't you worry about Mason and Dixon," I said, "They are out in the USA, drawing a line across America with a pointed stick."

"'Tis not of those two I speak," said Tommy, "I am worried about Gerry and Sean. What if they were eaten by a woman eating shark, or held captive by naughty, juvenile Somalian pirates?"

I stood at the fireplace, with one arm raised in the air and the other two hanging by my side and said,

"If it be their lot to be captured by naughty, juvenile Somalian pirates- I-will cycle pell-mell to the local Credit Union and pay the ransom--MYSELF!!!"

"I wonder what ransom the naughty, juvenile Somalian pirates would demand for the two lads?" said Tommy.

I filed my nails under-N, pushed back my cuticles with a bulldozer and replied,

"I would say they would demand £37.50 for Gerry and another £2.50 for Sean, the interrupter Coyle."

"Making a grand total of-what?" said Tommy.

"£40.00 for the two," I said.

"YIKES!" screamed Tommy. "That's a bit steep isn't it?"

"It is!" I said. "But if we want more great shows, we will have to grin and bear it."

"I thought the naughty, juvenile Somalian pirates were only in it for the money," said Tommy.

"Don't worry, Tommy lad," I said "I shall bargain with the pirates and I may get both of the lads back for £38.00."

"A sort of buy one, get one free?" said Tommy.

"Exactly!" I yelled. "Now pick up that kettle, pop over to Iceland and put kettle on top of a hot steam gusher. I could murder a nice cup of tea." LATER, or was it SOONER?

Tommy thoughtfully began to stuff a briar pipe with Fairy liquid, blew a cascade of bubbles and said, "Bye the bye old dear, Whatever happened to that lovely boy Julian Symons and his driving lessons?" I leapt like a salmon for a passing bubble and replied, "The last I heard, the hysterical one was seen reversing into the Lagan.""Oh dear!" said Tommy. "The ignominy and infamy of ending one's career among discarded shopping market trolleys and bagged and weighed down family pets." "It's Julian's own fault," I said. "I distinctly heard Pamela Ballentine say to him in the UTV canteen, "Nay Julian lad, thee can't drive a car lad, thee is too thick. Stick to bicycle lad. Aye, stick to bicycle. Bosses might think thee doesn't know thy place. Stick to Bicycle Julian lad. Aye, stick to bicycle. Now would thee like a nice piece of bread and dripping?"

"How jolly nice it was," said Tommy, "To see Gary Lineker and his latest bit of stuff come over here to Northern Ireland to patronise the common people." "We pulled out all the stops," I said. "We dusted off the baps and soda bread and told thrilling stories about the Titanic." "We always do that for visiting stars," said Tommy. "It is what is known as a friendly Northern Ireland welcome."I replied. "Why do we do that?" said Tommy. "Simple lad," I said. "We feel inferior, so we resort to the past." "I wonder," said Tommy. "I wonder would Jimmy Cricket and his wife get the same welcome in the Shires of England?" "Not a chance," I said. "They would be chased by baying packs of beagles to the cry of, "Go home Paddy!" "Thought as much," said Tommy, going back to blowing bubbles.

All this and more have I seen, as I stood on a wheelie bin peeping through the bedroom window of Sarah Travers. What a lot of Teddy bears Sarah has! But not one doll to be seen! Teddy bears, no dolls? I think questions should be asked in the house, or at least at the haggard.