Caravans and Old Codgers

Great show yesterday Kid. Quite early into the great show I leaped up and yelled, "MAYDAY! MAYDAY!"

Tommy, my cat, threw two life buoys out from behind the sofa and roared, "WOMEN AND CATS FIRST!"

"SOS!" I yelled. "SOS!"

"Save our sausages!" roared Tommy.

"Gerry has just announced," I yelled, "that the wind has blown the left hand window out of an Avondale Corfu caravan!"

"Great balls of hot buttered toast!" cried Tommy. "This could be bigger than the Titanic!"

"Tommy," I screamed, so I could be heard above the sound of my own screaming, "check our inventory of left hand windows for Avondale Corfu caravans."

Tommy pulled out a large ledger and turned to the Avondale Corfu caravan page.

"Well Tommy," I yelled, "how many left hand windows do we have in stock for Avondale Corfu caravans?"

"73!" roared Tommy.

"Can we spare a left hand window for an Avondale Corfu caravan?" I yelled. "It could save the life of a fellow human being."

"Not really," yelled Tommy, "73 left hand windows for Avondale Corfu caravans is the lowest our stock as ever been for left hand windows for Avondale Corfu caravans."

"Could we not spare one left hand window for an Avondale Corfu caravan?" I cried.

"Not really!" roared Tommy. "If we sent that man a left hand window for an Avondale Corfu caravan we would only have 72 left hand windows for Avondale Corfu caravans left. And as your caravan advisor, I must tell you, that 72 left hand windows for Avondale Corfu caravans is well below the accepted number of left hand windows for Avondale Corfu caravans. It could lead to our financial detrement, if the price of left hand windows for Avondale Corfu caravans went through the roof."

"Then what will we DO?" I screamed.

"Nothing!" said Tommy, and that's what we did!

Tommy peered out at me from the left hand window of an Avondale, Corfu caravan and said,

"That guy Skippy, who came on near the end of the show, he really didn't want anything, did he?"

"No," I said, "he just came on the show to talk and heat himself. You will always find men like Skippy hanging around road works."

"Is that a fact?" said Tommy.

"It is!" I replied. "No sooner have the workmen got to work, when an old man, wearing a belted trench coat, muffler and cloth cap will appear. And they always saw the same thing."

"What's that?" said Tommy. "What do the old codgers say?"

"They stand near the hole," I said "hands in pockets. Then they turn to the workmen and say, "I remember when they put that pipe in there."

"Ah, the poor old relics," said Tommy, "I wonder what happens to those old men who only come out to peer into holes?"

"Most die," I said. "But one or two fall into the holes and are buried by the workmen, who later drive away laughing in their big lorry."

"What a subject for David Attenborough," said Tommy, "the sad demise of the old codger."

"I couldn't possibly watch such a programme," I said. "It would be too sad, too cruel. As soon as the old codger said, "I remember when they put that pipe in there." I would leap off the sofa and yell, "Push him in! Push the old know-it-all into the hole!"

"Ah!" said Tommy. "Every day for old codgers is Remembrance day."

All this and more have I seen as a tarred and feathered, Frank Mitchell was run out of town, sitting back to front on a donkey.

People have only so much patience and then they-SNAP!!!