Lad comes down the apples and pears and asks Arnold Palmer for his sausage & mash. Quits the drum, taking the bread & honey with him. Saucepan lid goes straight down to the rub-a-dub, blows the Sovs getting elephant’s (trunk) and in living that can only be described as Mother Goose.
Then, and here comes the Barry Crocker: no food to put on the Betty Grable. ‘I’m not staying here, not on your Nelly!’ says he. There he is all on his Jack Jones; run out of Becks & Posh; completely borasic and totally Lee Marvin. Even thought about half-inching some of the porker grub.
Christian Slater, he opens his mince pies and starts to use his loaf. Puts on his titfer and goes Union Jack to his Mickey Mouse. He meets his dad and falls on his boat race at his plates of meat.
Father gives him a few hit & misses, a Charlie Prescott, an highland fling (not on the dog & bone), and a new pair of ones & twos. He throws a monster moriarty. ‘Strike a light! Me currant bun was brown bread – pushing up daisies – but now he’s a cheerful giver!’
Stairs, farmer, cash. Place (drum & bass), money. Kid pub, drunk, loose.
Shocker, table. Life (Nelly Duff, puff, breath of life). Own, dosh, skint (borasic lint), starvin’. Pinching.
Later, eyes, head (loaf of bread). Hat (tit for tat), back house. Face, feet.
Kisses, coat, ring, telephone, shoes. Party. Son, dead, liver.
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