1920′s
How much do you take in your Gentlemen’s Spice? Asquith: Rioja. Absolutely without a doubt. You can tell from the aroma. Browne:Nonsense, it’s further south than that – La Mancha. As I said before, ignore the aromas and look at the colour, that colour screams La Mancha. Asquith: I say you are wrong old boy, this [...]
Stagehand: Curtain call, five minutes, ladies…
Doris: He wanted to put it where?
Ethel: Me back passage.
Doris: But, Ethel… That’s tiny.
Ethel: I know, that’s what I said, wouldn’t listen though. He gave it a good try and got covered in oil, the silly goose. Told him, to stick it round front.
All Rise…
Well, your ‘onour, I arrived on the corner of Brick Lane and White Chapel ‘igh street at approximately 3am on the morning of November 6th 1927. Across the road, lying on the ground face-down, was a body which I presumed to be that of a reveller who was slightly worse for wear.
Some more Gentlemen’s Spice Asquith: You know Georgie? Browne: Do I ? Rather! Went for a spin in that ferocious motorcar of his the other week. Asquith: We were out around Piccadilly last Friday. Browne: Bet it was a right hoot! Last time I was out with him, practically emptied the bar at the Strand. Next morning, [...]
Should I feel bad?
It will be irrelevant in a few hours, the sand will engulf both our wretched bodies. Christ!
Thompson bought it last night, though the sun had claimed his mind a lot earlier. He had spent most of his final hours on his stomach, just laying there resting his cheek against the sand, a miserable specimen of a man. He didn’t move or make a sound, and the only sign that marked his passing was when his eyes no longer blinked.