One leg short

6 Dec

THERE’S a story going in tomorrow’s paper about a three-legged cat called Lucky. This sparks a conversation on the subs desk. It’s one of those conversations people have without looking up from their computer screens until someone says something strange. This is that point:

Geordie Mork: “Divvent tork ta me aboot three-legged cats. Ah bloody hate them, me. Ah keep a box of pertatoes by the kitchen door to hoy at them when they come in the gorden. That’s what Ah do. Ah see a cat and Ah take a pertato out of the box and Ah hoy it at the bloody cat. Thwang. Aye, and the three-legged bastards, an’ ahl. Sorts them out nee bother.”

Lucky goes in the paper. Life goes on. Mork goes home and crouches behind his door with a box of pertatoes.

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