Wednesday, 18 January 2012

De Local Ducks

"Ah, howeya missus, go on, get me profile dere, nice one"
"I dunno why dey call me Macker The Quacker, I subbose i' could be de fact da' I never shut me beak"

De aul' Moat Bar, not de same since dey done 'er up. I miss the pond scum, dead tasty i' was

Dis fella was actin' d'eejit for aaages. He trun all dis manky bread a' r'us. Does 'e tink we're bleedin' charity cases or wha?!

Morto: Now you don't wanta be messin wi' dis yoke. See da' gleem in 'is eye? Means business 'e does. He et' a fella's shoelace once, an' de fella only looked a' r' im sideways.

Dere's de missus, ah jaysus she's still gorgeous after all dese years. Love of my life, she is. Yeh'd never know she's a temper on 'er like an I-dunno-wha'

Macker The Quacker in a rare silent moment. I wouldn't mind only 'e does be talking shite ou' r'a him mornin' to nigh', an nobody can understand a feckin' word 'he says cuz 'a de choon'gum stuck in 'is beak.
"Spi'i'r ou', Macker" we do be sayin' to him, but does 'e listen? Does 'e shite

Dat's me young wan righ' dere. She's all in a flap cuz I told 'er she was not goin' to De Moat dat nigh'. I know what dey do be gettin' up to under dat bridge, an' I'm damned if anny daugh'er of mine is goin' dere, bringing back diseeases.

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