Wednesday, 11 January 2012

New Foster Puppy and ANTM (get me!)

Well.  After saying that he'd never take on a puppy ever, ever again - ever.  'And when I say 'ever', Carol, I mean what I say.  Oh yes, you can laugh and say 'yeah, yeah, yeah,' but I'm telling you - no more puppies.  Full stop. Ever, Nix, nada, niet, mate,' Man Friday took on another puppy.

I so knew he'd fall for the old sad story.  Unlike me, of course, I NEVER fall for poor, sad puppies with a dreadful back story - I am made of sterner stuff, mate.  Ahem, ahem...

Anyoldhow, this puppy is called Terrence.  He is 12wks old and so skinny that in the sunshine the poor bloody animal's see-thru!  He is a dark brown colour, a face shaped like a spade, eyes like two currants, and sticky out ears like a gremlin.  However, (although being NO oil painting) he is handsome in his own peculiar way, like Gerard Depardieu.

Oh, and about Melvis.  He went to court about holding the repair man hostage and the judge agreed with the council and now, if Melvis even throws a toffee paper on the pavement the council are allowed to ring the polis and have him arrested!

Turns out: cos the repair men are scared witless (fair enough, I suppose) of going to Melvis's, they first off said they weren't going round his house no more and didn't care if it flooded, caught fire, was in danger of collapsing et cetera.

Eventually, they tried drawing lots to decide who went round to Melvis.  But the bloke who drew the short straw called in 'sick'.  So, they decided to go round his house mob-handed - safety in numbers.

Unfortu, their plan back-fired.  Melvis sees four of them come round to repair his door (that the police kicked in aeons back when Obiah man accidentally dobbed him into the polis), and Melvis says: 'What's it take four of you for?'  and instead of placating him and making up some old codswallop about how they all have carple tunnel or something, one of them goes: 'Ho! We're not coming round here on our own Mr Valentine, we know your reputation.'

And that's all it took.  Dear oh dear.  Melvis then shoos three of 'em out the flats and keeps hold of a small one and tells him: 'You're perfectly capable of fixing my door by yourself, sonny.  Whatd'ya think I'm going to do to you?'
But the repair man (who is by now, and can't say I blame him, cacking his pants) says: 'I dunno mister but let me just tell you that I've got three children, all under six, if that makes any difference.'

And Melvis goes into one, big time.  He says: 'I don't know what them lying buggers have told you but I am not some sort of monster.  You just fix my door - and get a move on, don't think I've got all day.'

Meanwhile the other repairmen got back into the flats and effected a rescue of their traumatised mate; involving a lot of shouting and cursing, indignation and pure fear.

I dunno if you could call it 'kidnap' but it certainly wasn't a day trip to the coast; Melvis says it was the consequence of slander.

Hmmmm.

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