I've had a dream

Dead vivid it was. We were in the Cheswold looking out of the window when a group of about twenty Dingles pulled up in a battered old van following the short trip from down the road. Oil and water was spilling everywhere and petrol was still dribbling from the rag that was stuffed in the hole in the petrol tank, acting as a cap. I suppose it was quite acceptable in Baahhhnnnnsssslay, where the only contribution to saving the environment is unleaded churches. It certainly made me realise how Hyacinth Bucket must have felt being visited by Onslow and co.

The entourage walked in the pub lead by a big fat bloke. He approached me in a mark F size Baahhhnnnnssssslay shirt (one size up from a marque’e’) and said “How doo sithee?”, proudly sticking out his six pack, despite it being more like Lurpak. “OK thanks”, I replied.

Next thing an old guy pushed towards me and said “Tha looking for trouble sithee?” before I could reply the fat bloke pointed to him and said “this is me fatha, he’s retired”.
“Oh I’m sorry to hear that”, I replied.
“What do you mean sorry to hear that, he’s only retired?” said the fat bloke.
“Oh, sorry, I thought you said retarded”. I replied.

Then the bloke took out his wallet and showed me a picture of fat lass in a white shell suit. “This is our lass outside church on our wedding day. Doesn’t she look gorgeous in her wedding outfit?” He said. I’m sure I’d seen her on TV in that embarrassing body’s programme, but I nodded in agreement.

“I think we’ll beat you today, Two – Nowt.” He said
“Well, I’ve stopped making predictions with our sporadic performances.” I said.
“Who’s this sporadic geezer?” he said
“Sporadic...Intermittent” I said
“Oh he’s come from an Italian club then?” He asked.

We made our excuses and left for the match.

Not much to report on the game, both teams played like they’d had too much Turkey.

F.T . Rovers 0 Dingles 0