Friday, 11 May 2012

Cockney strife & plastic underground pigs

Last night I had a cockney wife that I was desperately trying to get rid off.
She spoke as if she was extra in Eastenders and I wanted a divorce.
We lived in a flat that had no stairs ascending to it but was surrounded by a brick wall that was falling down.

I managed to leave by climbing the precarious boundary to the flat leaving her unable to scale it.
Making good my escape I head for the underground station.

I walk through in complete darkness, arms outstretched in my blind enclosure. A torch light comes on, illuminating my way.
Holding the guiding light is a small pink plastic pig.
As the beam shines ahead of me I can see hundreds of other pink plastic pigs, all of which squeak like a dogs toy as I pass them.

Entering into the station it is rush hour and the mass of people are pushing and hustling for a space on the packed trains.
I start to talk and my voice is boomed out like a megaphone. I cooly inform everyone to chill out, take their time and enjoy the journey.

A calm descends over the gathered many and I smile to myself happy that I have made a difference.

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