“Bertie dear, I’m very hungry,” she said.
“That’s the munchies kicking in,” said Bertram. “If you like we could go back to the falafel bar or I noticed a valamse fritte takeaway just down the way. We could call in there and get some chips (fries) with salad cream on them. I know that I could do with another drink of fizzy pop or something. My throat is as dry as a sand lizard’s socks.”
“You used to say that when we went out together!” said Gertrude. “It was always your excuse to get into the nearest pub. What I want to know is, how you know just how dry a sand lizard’s socks are?”
“Ah, well, that is down to me knowing the ancient lore of the Aboriginal bush men. I learned that from that outdoor survival chappie, Ray Mears, in person… while he was on the telly.”
Gertrude laughed. “That chubby little bugger Ray Mears was just a child when we were together, you blighter! What’s more, if he lives on roots and grubs like he says he does, why is he so rotund?”
“Ah yes…. Of course… Here we get to the nub of the matter,” giggled Bertram. “Did you know that whenever he sets up camp in the wilds, if you turn the camera around one hundred and eighty degrees, it will be pointing straight at a McDonalds? It’s a little known fact…”
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