Sean the Blade
Member
“Get thissen in ‘ere Eli, an’ sit thissen dahn”
“Cheers Jarv” Replied Eli as he settled into the armchair, the worn arms confortingly showing tantalising glimpses of sisal and horse hair.
“Thi fish’re lookin grand Jarv” Commented Eli as he poured his bottle of Barnsley Bitter into the stoneware mug, nodding toward the large fish tank.
“Well Eli, I were worried, I took that big goldfish ter’t vets other day”
“What were up wi it?”
“I said ter’t vet, I teld him, it’s got epilepsy!”
“Epilepsy?”
“Aye, well he had a good look at him and said it all looked reyt, I said to him, wait till I tek him outta his bowl!”
“He does look a bit pale though dun’t he?” Said Eli, quickly distracted he piped “What’s celebration any roo-erd? It’s not like thee ter get thi beer aht!”
Jarvis jumped up and moved the fish tank out of the way of the television “Look, Theer!”
“It’s thi telly Jarv”
“Yeh, but look!”
“All reyt… I’m lookin… at thi telly!”
“I’ve gone and got SKY telly!”
“SKY TELLY!!! What’s that?”
“It’s like normal telly, only more expensive!”
“So what do yer want that fer?”
“So ah can watch Barnsley”
“But we watch Barnsley, dahn’t Tarn”
“Yeh, but we can watch ‘em at home”
“Yeh, at home, dahn’t Tarn!”
“No yer clart ‘ead, in me ‘ouse at home, in’t parlour, on’t telly, in’t warm!”
“But we’ve got season tickets fer Oakwell, an’ we allus go an’ watch ‘em away. If we stop goin ter see ‘em away, yer’ll ‘ave ter tell your lass that you’ve lost thi fortnightly Saturday store-detective job!”
“Oh bugger, aye, and that’s what I’ve teld ‘er is paying fer’t Sky telly!” The two men sat, disappointed, thinking how they could solve their problem. If they couldn’t find an answer, as sue as neet follows day, Jarvis’ wife would immediately assume he was spending his redundancy from the pit, and she’d want to decorate, no amount of reassurance that the 50’s were back in fashion would stop her. She’d want to bring the house right up to the 80’s, like she saw in Brassed Off.
“I’VE GORRIT!” Eli leapt from the armchair “We’ll rig a raffle, an’ tha can win a year’s free Sky telly!”
Jarvis, Eli and their respective partners huddled on the ‘backrest’ of Swanne Road Club, as ‘the turn’ finished their first set “# That’s the wondeeeer, The… wondeeeeeer… of yoooooooooooo!#”
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, that’s Eric Earnshaw, the Kendray Elvis, we’ll allow you a few minuted to refresh you glasses then we’ll be into tonights first board for your bingo”
“I’m just nippin ter’t lavvy Eli” Jarvis winked “here darlin, you look after THAT raffle ticket, I’ll be back in a minute”
“And now before we start your bingo, we can just squeeze in your prize draw, tonight, a year’s free subscription to Sky, If you’d like to come up to the stage Eli…” Eli stood, mortified, pointing to the toilets, mouthing like one of Jarvis’ goldfish “Come on Eli don’t be shy…”
Eli made his way to the podium, glancing back, hoping his friend had heard the announcement “Now then ladies and gents, I’ll draw one ticket, from Eli’s pocket…” Eli held up his arm allowing access to his blazer pocket. The duty committee-man delved into it and withdrew a folded ticket “Your winning number is on a green ticket… and it’s number…. One… nowt else, just number one”.
Doreen, Jarvis’s wife, yelled “I’ve gorrit, I’ve gorrit” She ran to the podium waving the ticket in her hand, as a horrified Jarvis emerged from the gents, his shirt tails flapping and his trousers round his ankles.
Eli and Jarvis sat with their heads hung like condemned men, Doreen chatted excitedly to Eli’s wife “… And then at two it’s Jeremy Kyle till three, I can only tek an hour of him and them posh folk, then at three it’s Oprah, then over the channel for the German lookin lass that does all pervy stuff, like women on top, then a bit more Jezza and it’s time fer ‘Ome N Away, an’ then neighbers, Emerdale, Correr, Stenders, Correr agean, then Oprah late neet, then tha’ll be in ter watch highlights on’t football Leeeague Show… And while them two’s at football or work, tha can come rahnd an’ watch stuff cos tha can tape it on’t box!...”
“Cheers Jarv” Replied Eli as he settled into the armchair, the worn arms confortingly showing tantalising glimpses of sisal and horse hair.
“Thi fish’re lookin grand Jarv” Commented Eli as he poured his bottle of Barnsley Bitter into the stoneware mug, nodding toward the large fish tank.
“Well Eli, I were worried, I took that big goldfish ter’t vets other day”
“What were up wi it?”
“I said ter’t vet, I teld him, it’s got epilepsy!”
“Epilepsy?”
“Aye, well he had a good look at him and said it all looked reyt, I said to him, wait till I tek him outta his bowl!”
“He does look a bit pale though dun’t he?” Said Eli, quickly distracted he piped “What’s celebration any roo-erd? It’s not like thee ter get thi beer aht!”
Jarvis jumped up and moved the fish tank out of the way of the television “Look, Theer!”
“It’s thi telly Jarv”
“Yeh, but look!”
“All reyt… I’m lookin… at thi telly!”
“I’ve gone and got SKY telly!”
“SKY TELLY!!! What’s that?”
“It’s like normal telly, only more expensive!”
“So what do yer want that fer?”
“So ah can watch Barnsley”
“But we watch Barnsley, dahn’t Tarn”
“Yeh, but we can watch ‘em at home”
“Yeh, at home, dahn’t Tarn!”
“No yer clart ‘ead, in me ‘ouse at home, in’t parlour, on’t telly, in’t warm!”
“But we’ve got season tickets fer Oakwell, an’ we allus go an’ watch ‘em away. If we stop goin ter see ‘em away, yer’ll ‘ave ter tell your lass that you’ve lost thi fortnightly Saturday store-detective job!”
“Oh bugger, aye, and that’s what I’ve teld ‘er is paying fer’t Sky telly!” The two men sat, disappointed, thinking how they could solve their problem. If they couldn’t find an answer, as sue as neet follows day, Jarvis’ wife would immediately assume he was spending his redundancy from the pit, and she’d want to decorate, no amount of reassurance that the 50’s were back in fashion would stop her. She’d want to bring the house right up to the 80’s, like she saw in Brassed Off.
“I’VE GORRIT!” Eli leapt from the armchair “We’ll rig a raffle, an’ tha can win a year’s free Sky telly!”
Jarvis, Eli and their respective partners huddled on the ‘backrest’ of Swanne Road Club, as ‘the turn’ finished their first set “# That’s the wondeeeer, The… wondeeeeeer… of yoooooooooooo!#”
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, that’s Eric Earnshaw, the Kendray Elvis, we’ll allow you a few minuted to refresh you glasses then we’ll be into tonights first board for your bingo”
“I’m just nippin ter’t lavvy Eli” Jarvis winked “here darlin, you look after THAT raffle ticket, I’ll be back in a minute”
“And now before we start your bingo, we can just squeeze in your prize draw, tonight, a year’s free subscription to Sky, If you’d like to come up to the stage Eli…” Eli stood, mortified, pointing to the toilets, mouthing like one of Jarvis’ goldfish “Come on Eli don’t be shy…”
Eli made his way to the podium, glancing back, hoping his friend had heard the announcement “Now then ladies and gents, I’ll draw one ticket, from Eli’s pocket…” Eli held up his arm allowing access to his blazer pocket. The duty committee-man delved into it and withdrew a folded ticket “Your winning number is on a green ticket… and it’s number…. One… nowt else, just number one”.
Doreen, Jarvis’s wife, yelled “I’ve gorrit, I’ve gorrit” She ran to the podium waving the ticket in her hand, as a horrified Jarvis emerged from the gents, his shirt tails flapping and his trousers round his ankles.
Eli and Jarvis sat with their heads hung like condemned men, Doreen chatted excitedly to Eli’s wife “… And then at two it’s Jeremy Kyle till three, I can only tek an hour of him and them posh folk, then at three it’s Oprah, then over the channel for the German lookin lass that does all pervy stuff, like women on top, then a bit more Jezza and it’s time fer ‘Ome N Away, an’ then neighbers, Emerdale, Correr, Stenders, Correr agean, then Oprah late neet, then tha’ll be in ter watch highlights on’t football Leeeague Show… And while them two’s at football or work, tha can come rahnd an’ watch stuff cos tha can tape it on’t box!...”
