Surviving Without Gerry.

Great pre-going away show kid.
"Three weeks?" I yelled.
"Three long, long, weeks," said Tommy my cat.
"That's a fortnight and a half!" I cried. "Who, or whom is going to look after us when Gerry is away?"
"Tommy spat into the fire and said, "Sean Thaddeaus Coyle."
"Old STC?" I yelled. "That's like leaving the little pigs alone with the wolf! Mark my words, Sean Coyle will run that great show into the ground, not for just an hour, not for just a day, not for just a fortnight and a half, but-always." "Chins up," said Tommy. "If we are to survive this ordeal with our peckers up, we must be prepared for pain, dog's abuse, bossing and Danny Kaye singing, "The Three little fish fish swam over the dam."
"SENERITY NIGH!" I yelled. SENERITY NIGH!!!!"
Suddenly, YES! it was as quick as that, Jim Rodgers sprang into the room screaming,
"Nigh! NIGH! NIGH! Stop that racket. A shaking wino is trying to eat an egg at the corner of your house!"
"Highly exciteable," said Tommy, but a good man to have with you if you're ever playing poker in Austin Texas where heat is being packed."
"The only heat Jim Rodgers ever packed," I yelled,"was a fish supper in his coat pocket as he ran like a greyhound through the rain on his way home from the chip shop."
Tommy and I both concurred, which left a large stain on the carpet.
As Vera Lynn sang softly in the background. Tommy and I, both wearing tin helmets, settled down for the long fortnight and a half.
"The lights are going out all over Poleglass," whispered Tommy.
"Hold hard Everard, old chum, old pal," I crooned. "This too shall pass."
"Yes it will pass my dear old ratbag," whispered Tommy.
Tommy and I burst into tears as the plaintive Vera Lynn sang.
"And Jimmy Nesbitt will go to sleep, in his own little room again."
Safe journey kid. Missing you already!