Don't Just Stand There,Black Lead Something!

Great shows last week kid. Great shows which brought great comfort to Saint Deirdre's Nudist club in the hills above Drumquin. As you probably read in the papers, many club members are suffering from frost bite in the(ahem)extremities. At a special meeting on Saturday night, a buck-naked, old codger with two icicles hanging from his nose put forward a motion, proposing that all members be allowed to wear simmets until the weather improves. The motion was seconded by a blue, shivering, pot-bellied woman and passed without dissent. As the group cycled home,they gave the impression of many setting suns.
Tommy my cat, kicked the stuffing out of a Justin Beiber, life-size doll and said, "How I miss the old days. Days of culture and art. Tea on the lawn, a chukka of polo, dry sherry and the horse whipping of dirty, ugly, inbred servants."
"Shut your mouth, Brideshead Revisited!" I yelled. "Look at you, lounging about in baggy flannels, cricket sweater and a silver monocle stuck into your ocular. Change back into your overalls, and black lead that grate."
"We don't have a grate, old thing," said Tommy.
"Don't old thing me!" I yelled. "Black lead something. Don't just stand there, black lead our super-dooper, Hi-tech, stereo system, with surround sound, cigarette lighter,Sat Nav and heated rear view mirror."
Tommy went to a saucepan where an old flat cap had been boiling for two hours, dipped two cups into the hot liquid and brought them back to the table.
"AAH!" I said. "There's nothing like a cap-punnino to brighten you up in the morning!" Responding to a knock on the door, I was met with a big, grey wall which turned out to be Steven Nolan's ill fitting suit. "Stand back fat boy," I said. "I can't see your face." AAAAAAAGH!" I screamed, as a round, mellow, harvest moon face glared down at me. Tubby danced from foot to foot and whimpered, "Can I use your loo?"
"Certainly NOT!" I cried. "This house does not have industrial sewage pipes." "I'm brusting!" cried Tubby. "If I wet my trousers again, big Audrey might think I am regressing and make me wear a giant, sumo nappy."
I looked all around and said, "Next door's wheelie-bin is empty and the owners are away to see Dickie Rock preform without a zimmer frame." I picked up a hose pipe, nipped over the fence and stuck one end into the wheelie-bin, handed the other end to Tubby and said, "Go ahead! Pretend you are a B52 tanker refueling an F16 fighter plane." I then retired to bake a potato cake and avoid seeing anything which might frighten me, or make me laugh.
45 minutes later, Tubby knocked at the door with a big smile and a wet fork. It was then Tommy, opened the lid of the neighbours wheelie-bin and said with a giggle, "I'm going to sit in this empty wheelie bin and pretend I am a Chilean miner." SPLASH!!!!
Tommy bobbed to the top twice before we dragged him out, using a garden rake and a pitch fork. OH, he did look pale. Tommy spluttered and said, "I don't know why the wheelie-bin was filled with water, but the strange thing is, it tasted of prawn cocktail crisps!" I looked at Tubby, Tubby looked at me and the Universe, went on spinning on its merry way.
(Note to self. Burn hosepipe)