An Old Odour

Great show yesterday kid.
A great show which made professor Richard Dawkins re valuate his life and apply to Maynooth College for admittance,claiming a late vocation.
The Dean of Maynooth,one Herbie Hancock,refused the application,but gave professor Dawkins the phone number of a Mullah from Meath.
Tommy my cat looked at me, swallowed some boke and yelled,
"You smell of old!"
"How dare you!" I yelled. "Like Miss Jean Brody, I am in the prime of my life."
"If you're in the prime of your life,"roared Tommy,"then the Egyptian boy King Tutankhamen must just be having 40 winks. You smell of old," yelled Tommy,
"a sort of grey, musky, buttoned-up cardigan,clove rock sweets in the pocket,old dog stench!"
"I was voted Miss Clean Oxters in 1943!" I yelled.
"Rubbish!" yelled Tommy. "Your oxters are a breeding ground for mushrooms and a nursery for frogspawn and tadpoles. You smell of the crypt, you smell of dank, cold,green mouldy cellars. You smell of the gansy that was thrown into the glory hole under the stairs 12 years ago. You smell of the lint in an undertaker's pocket. In short, you smell of old."
"What about you?" I yelled. "You smell of stale cheese,John West tuna tins and deceased mice and scaldies. You smell of dustbins, wino's puke, old men's farts and the piece of cardboard you put in your shoe to keep the water out. In short my lad, you smell of-cat!"
Later as Tommy and I sat in a piping,hot bath, lathering on the Lifebuoy soap, Tommy looked at me and said,
"I'm glad we brought that out into the open. We have found-closure and can now move on."
My answer to Tommy was a multitude of bubbles rising from the depth of the bath.
I like to have the last word!