“Who the
bleedin’ ‘ell stole me syrup of figs?” exclaimed the duchess when she realised
she’d lost her purchase of wigs.
The
customers were shocked when the accusation rang.
For here was
the duchess speaking Cockney rhyming slang.
“I’m sure
there’s an explanation,” cried the manageress in despair. “This is a refined
department store. I’m sure no one would dare.”
“I want me
syrups now you snotty little cow!” screamed the duchess amid horrified stares.
“Or I’ll kick your scrawny butt down the apples and pears!”
“My dear
duchess, please don’t make a scene. Can you kindly try and remember when they
were last seen.”
“After I
bought them I went back to the aisles, because I’d forgotten to get cream for
me Farmer Giles. I then saw some ties that would really suit the duke, so I
went to the display to ‘ave a butcher’s ‘ook. But why are you still ‘ere, why
are you ‘angin’ around? I want me bleedin’ syrups and I want them found.”
“Our people
are searching throughout the store. I’m here in case you remember anymore.”
“Well I
remember I was with the duke, the drunken ol’ dog. And I remember ‘avin’ to go
to the Kermit Frog. I was in a bit of an ‘urry because of a dodgy Ruby
Murray...Wait I’ve got it now. I really can be a silly cow. ‘E went to look for
socks and ‘e took my box. ‘E’s the bugger who’s got the locks.”
“Duchess,
I’ll get an assistant to take a look. It shouldn’t take him long to find the
duke.”
“Fine, fine,
fine. Make it quick and get what is mine.”
She motioned
for a young man to come to her aid as she wouldn’t be able to withstand another
tirade.
“Find the
duke, find him quick,” she said. “Because that drunken witch is getting on my
wick. And when you come back with the stupid old git, get rid of him and get
rid of it. How you do it I don’t give a Tom kit, but if it doesn’t happen soon
I’ll have a screaming fit.”
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