Thursday, November 19, 2009

On a night in the pub

On a night in the pub

"Good evening, mein host, a flagon of your finest stout ale, if you please."

"Yer what?"

"Guinness. One of Her Majesty's pints, if it pleases you."

"Oh, right."

"And, if you'd be so bold, could you direct me to the secret garden as advertised on the sign outside, for I wish to partake in the last dying rays of this autumnal sun."

"Are you trying to chat me up, gaylord?"

"What? Your secret garden - where is it located?"

"There's no way I'm showing anybody my secret garden, you great wooly wooftah."

"No.. No... The Secret Garden. The one on your sign outside. The one that says 'Secret Garden' on it."

"Oh, THAT."


"It's through there."

"But.. but.. it's an alley full of empty barrels and a dead pigeon."

"Yes. Secret Garden. Tell anybody and we break your legs."

"And a packet of helicopter flavour crisps, my good man."

"Heard it."

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