The Club Shoppe
A customer enters a Club shop.
Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C: {pause} I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a
complaint!
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about
this Football Club what I purchased not a decade ago
from this very boutique.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Cumbrian Blues...What's,uh...What's
wrong with them?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. They're dead,
that's what's wrong with them!
O: No, no, They're uh,...they're restin'.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead Football Club when I see one, and
I'm looking at one right now.
O: No no they're not dead, they're, they're restin'! Remarkable Club,
the Cumbrian Blues, idn'it, ay? Beautiful fans!
C: The fans don't enter into it. It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no! They're resting!
C: All right then, if they're restin', I'll wake them up!
(shouting at the cage)
'Ello, Mister Polly Football Club! I've got a lovely fresh Football
Stadium for you if you show...(owner waves the plans)
O: There, they moved!
C: No, he didn't, that was you massaging the headlines!
O: I never!!
C: Yes, you did!
O: I never, never did anything...
C: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO BLUES!!!!!
Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine
o'clock alarm call!
C: Now that's what I call a dead Football Club.
O: No, no.....No, they're stunned!
C: STUNNED?!?
O: Yeah! You stunned them, just as they was wakin' up!
Cumbrian Blues stun easily, major.
C: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough
of this. That Football Club is definitely deceased, and when I
purchased it not a decade ago, you assured me that its
total lack of movement was due to it bein' tired and shagged
out following a prolonged relegation battle.
O: Well, they're...they're, ah...probably pining for the Premiership.
C: PININ' for the PREMIERSHIP?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?,
look, why did they fall flat on they're back the moment I got them
into the Second Division?
O: The Cumbrian Blues prefer kippin' on they're back! Remarkable
club, id'nit, squire? Lovely supporters!
C: Look, I took the liberty of examining that Football Club when I
got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had
stayed in Division Three in the first place was that it had
been NAILED there.
(pause)
O: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that
club down, it would have soared up through the divisions, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
C: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this club wouldn't "voom" if you put four
million volts through it! they're bleedin' demised!
O: No no! They're pining!
C: They're not pinin'! They're passed on! This Football Club is no more!
They have ceased to be! They're expired and gone to meet 'is maker!
They're a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you
hadn't nailed them in Division Three theyed be pushing up the daisies!
They're metabolic processes are now 'istory! They're off the twig!
They've kicked the bucket, They've shuffled off they're mortal coil, run
down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!!
THIS IS AN ex-Football Club!!
(pause)
O: Well, I'd better replace it, then.
(he takes a quick peek behind the counter)
O: Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop,
and uh, we're right out of Football Clubs.
C: I see. I see, I get the picture.
O: {pause} I got a Cinema Complex.
(pause)
C: (sweet as sugar) Pray, does it make profits?
O: Nnnnot really.
C: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
O: Look, if you go to my brother's Club shop in Bolton, he'll
replace the Football Club for you.
C: Bolton, eh? Very well.
The customer leaves.
The customer enters the same Club shop. The owner is putting on a
false moustache.
C: This is Bolton, is it?
O: (with a fake mustache) No, it's Ipswich.
C: (looking at the camera) That's inter-city rail for you.
The customer goes to the train station.
He addresses a man standing behind a desk marked "Complaints".
C: I wish to complain, British-Railways Person.
Attendant: I DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS JOB, YOU KNOW!!!
C: I beg your pardon...?
A: I'm a qualified brain surgeon! I only do this job because I
like being my own boss!
C: Excuse me, this is irrelevant, isn't it?
A: Yeah, well it's not easy to pad these python files out to
200 lines, you know.
C: Well, I wish to complain. I got on the Bolton train and found
myself deposited here in Ipswitch.
A: No, this is Bolton.
C: (to the camera) The Club shop man's brother was lying!!
A: Can't blame British Rail for that.
C: In that case, I shall return to the Club shop!
He does.
C: I understand this IS Bolton.
O: (still with the fake mustache) Yes?
C: You told me it was Ipswich!
O: ...It was a pun.
C: (pause) A PUN?!?
O: No, no...not a pun...What's that thing that spells the same
backwards as forwards?
C: (Long pause) A palindrome...?
O: Yeah, that's it!
C: It's not a palindrome! The palindrome of "Bolton" would be
"Notlob"!! It don't work!!
O: Well, what do you want?
C: I'm not prepared to pursue my line of inquiry any longer as
I think this is getting too silly!
Sergeant-Major: Quite agree, quite agree, too silly, far too
silly...
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