“Lovely pair o’ knockers, eh?” “Yeah.” “Love ta cop a feel o’ them buns…” “Yeah…” “… give ‘er a good poke…” “Hehe, yeah.” “I mean, ‘oo wouldn’t want ter shove ‘is tool up ‘er box?” “Yeah, right.” “Makes me knob all big jus’ finkin’ abou’ it.” “Same ‘ere.” “All righ’, so what’s ‘at come to?” “Er, lessee… pair o’ knockers, bag o’ buns, poker, toolbox, and one doorknob (large)… that’ll be seventeen and six.” “Right, ‘ere ya...

“Evenin’, guvnor. Wha’ can I do yer for?” “Bit delicate, mate. Missus’s not too ‘appy: me tool’s too big…” “Never known a lady to complain about that!” “Well, tight squeeze, see. I mean, she wants me to do ‘er… ya know… dirt passage…” “Eh?” “‘Er… tradesmen’s entrance…” “Yer what?” “You blinkin’ thick, George? ‘Er back door!” “Oh! Flippin’ ‘eck!” “Yeah, well, now what do I do?” “Got jus’ the fing: WD-40. Good fer all ‘inge...