‘Cos it were just lark thet,’ says Miguel the other mornin’ as we waited fer the pub to open its doors. ‘Out on La Moye golf course he was – ah spotted ‘im runnin’ rahnd durin’ thet thunderstorm on Sunday nart – with two metal golf clubs held high in the air, almost lark he was darin’ the lartnin’ to come dahn and strike ‘im.’
‘Did you get a look at ‘is face?’ me and Mickey asked, leanin’ in.
Miguel said he didn’t want to get too close fer fear of gettin’ frazzled – not bein’ blessed with powers of regeneration lark this other fellow clearly was – but when the skar lit
up he could see thet the chep was wearin’ a pin-strarp suit and glasses, and screamin’ something abaht ‘the growing digital economy’ at the heavens.
‘Did he look lark this?’ says Mickey, pullin’ aht ‘is phone and playin’ footage of that daredevil with the parachute jumpin’ off the flats at La Collette. Ah’d already seen the one on Facetube, but Mickey’s video was shot from a different angle, and went on longer – you could clearly yer the chep mutterin’ somethin’ abaht hah he was ‘lookin’ forward to gettin’ beck to work’ as he folded ‘is parachute up into ‘is briefcase.
‘Ah think thet’s ‘im’ says Miguel, gettin’ all exarted. ‘Ruddy hell – he must think he’s invincible.’
Well, we hed our suspicions abaht who it could be, though none of us wanted to say it aht loud fer fear of gettin’ dregged from our homes and locked up in the cellars beneath
Cyril Le Marquand House.
‘Mah mate says he saw the same guy being fired through a giant O of burnin’ ten pahnd notes at thet circus,’ says Mickey. ‘The Great Innovator, he was billed as. A modern-day Geoffrey Sleep, this chep. Cocky, eh?’
Ah didn’t hev the heart to explain ‘is error, though couldn’t help pointin’ aht thet in the end it didn’t work aht so well for old Geoffrey, as the story goes. And with certain groups of the electorate sharpenin’ their swords fer next yer…
Who wants to live forever, eh? This chep, clearly. Whether he continues to live the har-larf fer eternity – well, we’ll see.
