Toffee Apples and Pineapple Chunks. It's Discrimination!

Great shows last week kid. Great shows which brought a glimmer of hope to an old codger who had fallen down a deep well while out picking wild, exotic herbs for his champ. When the rescue crew arrived, the leader yelled down the well, "Hey, you down there. Did you break anything?" After what seemed like an eternity the old codger replied. NO! There was nothing down here!"
"Nutter!" muttered the rescue officer, as he lowered a trampoline down the well so the old codger could bounce to safety. As the old codger's head appeared above the well, a quick thinking rescuer threw a lasso round the old grey's neck and dragged the old codger to safety. "Stall the weddin'!" cried the old relic. "I have to go back! I left my free bus pass at the bottom of the well!"
Tommy my cat, hitched up his short, grey trousers, adjusted his old school tie and said, "Hey! droopy drawers, put down that lovable, African pygmy and attend to me." I carefully put little Terence back in his cardboard box and cried,
"Speak! A vast capacity of knowledge is stored in the canyons of my mind."
Tommy stood in front of me like a young David Dimbleby and said, "Noel Thompson appears in Newsline and also, Hearts and Minds. Paul Clarke, appears in UTV Live and also in UTV Live Extra. Mark Carruthers appears in BBC news programmes and also in Let's Talk. Donna Traynor appears in Newsline and only Newsline!"
Suddenly the enormity of Tommy's conjuncture hit me like a double-decker bus. Donna Traynor was being short changed, taken to the cleaners!
"Sex discrimination!" I yelled. "All three men have two jobs, but poor Donna Traynor has only one! What do we want?" I yelled. "One woman, two jobs. When do we want it? NIGH!"
"Not so fast Emily Pankhurst," said Tommy. "There could be a simple explanation."
"Toffee apples and pineapple chunks!" I yelled. "It's naked, blatant, sex discrimination. Man the barricades! storm the Bastille! Form occupy movements! Phone Eamon McCann!"
"Did you never think," said Tommy, "that Donna Traynor might have a fish and chip run at night?"
In a flash I saw it. Donna Traynor, wearing a neat, blue uniform, motoring round Ulster in a wee van with, "Donna's Chipper" written on the side. I saw Donna, standing in a cloud of steam, giving the chips a good rumble. Tubby Nolan, stands looking in, drooling at the mouth like a doberman. "A plethora of fish suppers," roars Tubby, waving a fifty pound note in the air. As quickly as Donna fries Tubby, gobbles them up and cries for, MORE! Finally, Donna yells, "Sling your hook fat boy, you've had your chips!". As Donna drives away, with steam rising from her lum, Tubby chases after her like a rhino on steroids. Tubby's fat, little fingers fly over the keypad of his mobile phone and soon a convoy of fish and chip vans stop beside the galloping, gluttonous gourmet.
"CHIPS!" yells Tubby. "In the name of Allah, chips, fish, sausages and PIES!"