Plans for a bouncy castle for our Royal Wedding celebrations have been scuppered due to the cost of the insurance premiums. The alternative of asking every rugrat to crayon ina claims waiver before removing their shoes would have been to impractical. Look at all the palaver we had wi Archie's trampoline!
Never fear, Captain. Whilst taking the scenic route through Bradford, I chanced upon an independent sex shop that wasd closing down and I managed to purchase an inflatable at a bargain price as it was slightly shop soiled. (Unfortunately the savings were cancelled out due to me having to pay double on the bus back home).
With the addition of a long, dark wig and the netting from the defunct pingpong table in the games room, I managed to create a passable likeness of Kate Middleclass.
Last weekend I positioned "Our Kate" in the vegetable patch where she managed to detract several airborn predators from Cook's rocket.
Unfortunately, due to a brisk northwesterly, she took off over the moors in the general direction of Halifax persued by Strange Bob in a scene reminiscent of the classic 1942 version of Wuthering Heights.
To stop a repetition of this incident, "Our Kate" is now tethered in the outside gents toilet. I have also nailed an honesty box to the wall.
On Friday the snug will be turned into Westminster Abbey. The congregation will consist of our regulars...bitter on the left, mild on the right. "Our Kate" will be taken up the aisle by Strange Bob (he's already checked that the ring fits) where she will marry our own Prince Charming, Archie Sunblest. I will be playing the Archbishop of Canterbury. Tickets £3 including pie and peas supper.
Due to a bit of a diplomatic kerfuffle, the Crown Prince of Bahrain will not be appearing as advertised on the poster.
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