Finkle, Wicker, Deep Thoughts and Mutton Stew

“For the third time I’m asking you Arnie Finkle, - are you getting up off the grass or are you lying there all day staring into the bright blue yonder?” “’An am telling thee Wally Wicker that ’am ‘aving deep thoughts. So bog off!” “You’ve never had a deep thought in your whole life. The depth of your thinking has never reached any further than the pearls of barley at the bottom of a bowl Edith Cuthbertson’s mutton stew.” “Eeh!... Edith ‘Cuperson’, now there was a bosom to balance your pint pot on!” “There you are. See what I mean; Edith Cuthbertson’s bosom, that just shows the length and breadth of your thinking.” “’Ow dust thar know about Edie ‘Cuperson’s’ bosom. Or more to the point how dust thou know what’s at the bottom of her mutton lobby?’ “I know that she and her brother Bert used to live next door to you in that little cottage in Adit Row.” “By gum! That were a long time ago.” “I was in the Terratorial Army with Bert at the time. He was my sergeant. I was nearly his corporal. He told me all about you and your love of Edie and her cooking” “’Eaven ‘elp us. Yo’ were never in the TA? Thar was never a soldier?” “I was. I joined in June 1964. I could have been sent to Viet Nam.” “’Ow long didst thar serve?” “Long enough!” “Come on, ‘ow long?” “Does it matter?” “Ow long?” “Two weeks” “Two weeks!!!” “You see they failed to see my potential.” “What po-tential? What ’appened?” “Well it was the first ‘close combat training’ session that did it. When Bert caught me creeping round to the back of the group he naturally wanted to know what I was up to.” “Yo’ coward yo’ were running away!” “No I wasn’t I was making a tactical retreat and preparing to make a surprise attack using my garrotting technique.’ “Garrotting!!! where didst thar learn to garrotte?” “Don’t mock. I spent the first three years of my working-life behind the cheese counter at Bartsbum Co-op. I tell you I was a ‘whizz’ with a cheese wire. I could carve up a ball of Dutch Edam into 24 separate segments and do it so carefully that until you tried to lift it you couldn’t tell it had been touched.” “If thar was that good with garrotting wire why did the TA get rid of thee?” “When I told Bert what I was preparing to do he said I was too dangerous for their outfit and he’d have to let me go.” “That’s his polite way of telling thee thar wasn’t up to it.” “He said he’d send my name off for alternative training.” “Didst thar ever follow it up?” “Well no. I was always busy with other things.” “I rest my case.” “Come on, time to go. Get up. Let’s walk down the hill to the ‘Greasy Spoon' and get a bowl of something hot to eat.” “’Am waiting for a chariot.” “A chariot! There are no Romans going to come past up here, mate.” “No, not down 'ere -  up there in the sky, amongst the clouds. I’ve seen a gladiator and a horse, now there’s a chariot building.” “Tell me 'O enlightened observer', what do you think is happening up there in the sky? Is it some celestial artist sculpting the clouds?” “By gum thar’s got some big ideas. It’s th’ wind - y’ idiot. Ma guess is that it’s probably one of those all things bright and beautiful we used to sing about.” “Well I suppose that’s as close as were going to get to a deep thought!” “Almost as deep as a bowl of Greasy Spoon mutton lobby. Let’s go.”