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Listeners' Fantasies |
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The Erchers (sum mair ...)
by Liz Simpson
 More punning from the Archers' Scottish cousins, via the Fantasy Archers topic of The Archers message board.
It was early evening in Ra Bull, and Davey Ercher was enjoying a pint of heavy with his brither Kenny.
"Och, man - I needed that!" said Davey, swallowing most of his glass in one go. "It's awfy nice fur wir Ruthie tae hae hir mither tae visit, but she drives me mad wi’ her furry boots."
"Oh?" enquired Kenny. "Why's that? Does she no’ take them aff indoors?"
"Na, na," replied Davey, shaking his head, "it's nae her furry boots like that - it's she's aye saying ‘Furryboots is ma "People's Freend"? Furryboots is Pip's piano music?’"
"Aye but," pointed out Kenny, "Kathy was sayin’ that Ruth was sayin’ that Heather's pit the lot of youse on anither diet, and that you like it. Kathy says it's the GI Diet, like a’ they fillum stars are following."
"Right enough, brither," agreed Davey, "when Ah've finished ma denner, Heather aye asks if Ah'd like a wee bitty mair, and Ah say: ‘Gee - aye!’"
Kenny snorted, and said, "are ye up fur a sesh on ra cider the morn's night? Ah hear Lillian's gonna be there, and Ah was watchin’ the way ye were staring at her chest the ither night, ye dirty devil, ye! That's her latest plastic surgery ye were admiring!"
Davey's ruddy complexion deepened intae a full-blown blush. "Ah couldna help masel - her front is so pointy! It's like she's pit twa ice-cream cornets doon her simmet*!"
"Aye weel," said Kenny smugly, "that's because it's her silly-cone implants!"
Jings thought Davey, weakly.
(* vest)
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