Breakfast at the Blairs 12

September 12, 2006

Mrs B is on her last cup of Lyons instant when Mr B comes in looking bleary-eyed. The demonic sounds of the Frozen Monkeys can be heard thudding through the floor of the flat above.
Mrs B Sleep all right, darling?
Mr B No, course I bloody didn’t. What with the jet lag and that ******* noise I hardly got a wink. It’s like being in the middle of those ***** protesters in Beirut again.
As the volume of the Frozen Monkeys is lowered, the insistent pitter patter of tiny feet stabs through the heart of the peaceful breakfast scene.
Mr B What the hell’s that , didn’t we get the Rodent disinfestation people in last week?
Mrs B Well, actually, darling, it’s the new neighbours.
Mr B What new neighbours?
Mrs B Er, a very nice family moved into the flat upstairs, he’s a bit fat and grumpy but the wife does a very nice rhubarb fool.. and there are some young children…
Mr B What’s all this? The minute my back’s turned a bunch of rowdies move into my house?
Mrs B Shh, darling, Gordon will hear you.
TB What’s he got to do with it ?
Mrs B Well, you see, darling….it’s like this……
The rest is drowned as the Frozen Monkeys upstairs belt out their hit ‘Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not’.

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