Old Stile Jumper

Great show yesterday kid.
A great show which wiped the smiles off the faces of the clowns in Duffy's circus, when you announced that the price of large shoes for clowns was increasing by a staggering 59%. "Up with this I will not put!" yelled Bobo. From this day forward I call on all clowns to jettison the big shoes and adopt flip-flops!"
"Brilliant!" cried Mrs Bobo. "Cometh the hour, cometh the clown."
"Reel to reel tape-recorders," mused Tommy my cat. "How to read the code for traffic points. Bicycle accidents, The men Mr Coyle meets each night. It's entertainment Jim, but not as we know it."
"The Gerry show is from out of left field," I said. "It's off the wall. It's crazy man and groovy. It's niche radio and is fit for purpose."
"There are some," said Tommy, "including Mrs Bunty Hovis from Teabag Lane who compare Gerry to Howard Sterne."
"Howard Sterne my motorised umbrella stand!" I cried. "Gerry is a one off, a prototype, a John the Baptist who was sent to convert the devotees of Tubby Nolan, Hugo Duncan and Mark Patterson."
"The unholy trio," cried Tommy, "who were sent from the dark side to corrupt the children of God with bull-like guldering and enough diddly-dee to float the Titanic."
I bumped into Noel Thompson coming out of a mountaineering/adult book store. Poor Noel was burdened down with an ice axe, a coil of rope and a parachute.
"Out of my way, you crumpled, crumbling crone!" boomed Noel. "I am a busy man, I have work to do."
"Work to do?" I yelled. "You call reading the news for half an hour-work?"
"How dare you!" thundered Noel. "I arrive at the BBC at daybreak and work on my script all day, making changes, adding a bit, or talking a bit out. All day, every day it's drafts, drafts drafts!"
"You're in a rut No-El," I said. "Why don't you and Donna ring the changes and play a game of Ludo or Snakes and Ladders to pass the time?"
Noel's rugged, windblown visage turned purple and he took after me yelling,"Today in Belfast, an old ratbag was badly hurt by a strange man carrying an ice, a coil of rope and a parachute. The police have arrested Paul Clarke from UTV. While Pamela Ballentine yelled, "Leave him alone. He's irrelevant."
"Old Stile jumper!" I yelled, as I weaved in and out among the wheelie-bins.
"Old stile jumper, who sometimes reads the news as a side line. STILE JUMPER!!!" I yelled. "OLD STILE JUMPER!!!"