Pies, Pies, Chocolate and Fries.

Great show yesterday kid. A great show which was mostly ignored in and round the Bricklands area. When a naked Jordie Tuft rode into town on a donkey protesting at the spiraling cost of cooking sherry, the Mother's Union and the Legion of Mary had a whip round and sent old Jordie home wearing, French, satin knickers, fishnet stockings and a double D bra, all of which were hidden under a wee, blue top and a charcoal-grey pencil skirt.
"Don't he look lovely?" cried old Ma Clampet. "He looks just like my granny, the night before she died."
I grabbed Tommy my cat by the bow tie and yelled, "How would you describe the mood of Mr Coyle today?" Tommy gave me a voucher for a head butt and said, "Buoyant! Buoyant, is the only word to describe Mr Coyle's mood." I stared hard at a green tomato until it turned red and said, "Something isn't right."
"Then it must be left," said Tommy. "Anyway, what's amiss?"
"A young, unmarried woman," I replied. "I can't quite put my finger on it," I said.
"Want me to get the wooden spoon?" said Tommy.
"It's a puzzler," I said. "Mr Coyle plus a good mood equals..what?"
"DRUGS!" yelled Tommy. "Old Popeye went to see the doctor before dropping into the studio for a rest. The doctor must have used eye drops consisting of sterilized water and LSD! Mr Coyle was as high as a kite, pumped up to the eye balls with hippy, trippy, acid."
"GOTCHA!!!" I yelled. "Quick Tommy, the phone number for big, Jim McDowell at the Sunday World."
I found Steven Nolan, sitting in an old, abandoned warehouse singing this little ditty over and over again, "PIES, PIES, CHOCOLATE AND FRIES."
"Hey Bro," I cried, "what's up? Eat anything good lately?"
Tubby snarled like a Komodo dragon and said, "I feel my position as King of the airways is in danger. I have heard strange tales of treason and intrigue relating to Alan Simpson and William Crawly. I am surrounded by enemies. I must protect my flanks and cover my rear."
"The only way for you to cover your rear,"I giggled, "is to reverse into an aircraft hanger."
"Begone!" yelled Tubby. "I must prepare for battle! My visage must be grim and my loins girded."
"Oh Sir Tubby," I cried, "May I gird your mighty loins?"
"YOU?" roared Tubby. "You are a mere rat bag. It requires six strong men to gird MY massive loins."
For some strange reason I was reminded of a cowboy film I saw when just a cuttie.... HOLD UP AT TWISTED FORK!!!