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The dangers of a pint or four...

Milk should come with a government health warning.

Bedding, what the hell is bedding? I always thought it was something you slept under, so when people talk about it, I always look at them slightly bemused.

Are they trying to proposition me? You can’t be too careful especially in this day and age and it’s always the ones you’d never expect who bump you off. A bit like a bloke we know who’s developed a language of his very own it’s a cross between a really strong Norfolk accent and a salty sea dog pirate.

With his nicotine-stained beard and overcoat he is a sight to behold. I was in my local shop getting some milk when in he walked and grumbled something to me which went along the lines of “You be needing teachin’s …….argh” .

He grabbed my arm tightly and led me to his house, four pints of milk in tow. I thought if I’m not back soon, Claire, my wife, would raise the alarm.

What I didn’t know at the time was that she was on the phone to her sister. These calls go on for days.

Before I knew it, I was at his house. “Arrg,we here” he said, as I stepped inside. He then led me to his garden. A smile crept across his face as he slowly walked me around.

Bedding plants, he explained, come in all different colours, shapes and varieties.

He had begonias, fuchsias, geraniums, etc. “All from the Baytree” he muttered. I didn’t know what any of them where so I took his word for it.

He began to explain how he had managed to make such an incredible display of colour.

“You see boy, it’s all about the feed...”.

I feared for my life again. Did he bury his victims in the garden to feed his plants? Was I going to be next?

“Miracle Gro Slow Release, me lover” he said.

It turns out he mixes it with the compost he puts his bedding plants into. The slow release formula feeds his plants for about six months.

He pointed out that in his containers he also adds Gardman water retaining gel.

We walked back into the kitchen and asked if I wanted a cup of tea. I agreed and went to make it. “DON’T TOUCH ME TEAPOT, LAD.” His bellow froze me in an instant. “IT’S ’OT”.

On reflection, I think he had dragged me to his house only because he had run out of milk.


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