It was a cool day in Sandbach. Norton Canes twisted the reins in his gloved hands as he rode up to the Saloon. Fleet of action he leapt from Heston his untrustworthy bald stallion and strode through the batwing doors of the Knutsford Bar. The Membury began to flood back.
"Anyone here seen Leicester Markfield?", he enquired with no change in his deadly expression.
"He's with those North Boys, Mr Canes", offered a frightened looking cowpoke at the bar. "Rivington & Rothersthorpe North. Something about going off to join the Hilton Park Gang Mr Canes..."
Canes' eyes narrowed.
"Frankley Gordano I don't give a damn. Mr Leigh Delamare is on his trail and there's a Bounty on his head. There's a Mars Bar in his pocket and a Milky Way in each Boot".
Norton Canes looked worried for the first time that day and stood up to his full 6ft 7inches. He was certainly Toll alright.
16 comments:
I can see what you've done there.
You are wrong about Leigh Delamere. She was a Hollywood starlet of the 1930s, noted for her parts in classics such as 'Chieveley'(an underrated adaptation of the famous novel by Taunton Deane) and the role of the evil governess Magor in 'Donington Park'.
But Leigh is mainly remembered for her fiery affairs with Hollywood luminaries such as Ross Spur, Pont Abraham and Sarn Park.
Save: I was hoping to incorporate Leicester Forest East but he's changed his name to Gump.
Tom: Very good work young man. I may call on you for your Services.
Tim not Tom. Good name for a group?
And the Moto of this story?
I'm getting hungry. Any chance you could turn that into a cereal?
Martin: Never give a sucker a Welcome Break.
Z: It's not to everybody's taste. Could even be the next turn-off.
I usually get to Strensham before I need a comfort break. As my wife says, we don't want a Charnock, Richard.
Leicester Markfield is a dump! In fact, so is Leicester!
Soaring: You should tell her you don't need a Bourton in Kendal either.
John: You'll appreciate it if you have to stop for one.
Just keep driving. Don't think about the Wooley Edge of your Watford Gap.
BTW, delighted to learn that, rather than being an old geezer called Tim, I'm actually a young man called Tom. This would have made my day, if I'd had one.
Tim: I pictured you more in a battered old transit stopping off for a midnight fry-up at the Blue Boar after a frenzied gig in Droitwich Town Hall.
Don't think I ever played Droitwich Town Hall. But the rest is spot on. The Transit was called Bessie.
NB Your W V is 'knact', which we generally were by Blue Boar time.
I don't know why but this puts me in mind of a little fair-haired boy with glasses who rode a white horse near our cottage in Yorkshire. We called him the Milky Bar Kid. The horse fell in the canal - no-one was hurt. How we laughed.
Pat: Far canal! The Milky Bar Kid was a Cowboy - I think that must explain it.
*sigh* i have got to get out of london next time i'm in the uk, sugar! xoxoxox
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