Out-Foxed
Sloanes and toffs descended on Ledbury High Street for their traditional Boxing Day pomp. Perched on their farting Montys and Nelsons, the unspeakable gulped from hip flasks and sipped half pints; bemoaning the law, the decided ignorance of the hoi polloi and threatening to change things back to how they jolly well should be.
Three cheers, hiccup hooray.
After a good rant of alcohol induced bluster the sloaffs galloped
orff, a tally ho here and a what-not there, in their pursuit of the
venereal pleasure, the thrill of the chase. Their quarry? That inedible smelly rag.
What a drag!
[No animals were harmed and no laws were broken in the writing of this review]
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