by Hitlers Mussl
I’m a local greengrocer. I live above my own shop, where I sell all manner of locally grown produce. The business has been in the family for many years. My Grandfather likes to tell tales of how his Grandpa once sold some sprouts to Dr Livingstone. I presume he’s right, but my Gramps also says he sailed on the Lusitania!
Of late, business has been a bit slack. I put this down to the Pixies who have set up shop in the street. When I say street, I mean exactly that. The other day I heard a bit of a kafuffle coming from the street so I went out to see what was going on. The Pixie grocer was stood bold as you like with his plums out, getting some lady customers to feel how succulent they were.
I thought ‘ah so that’s why business is slow. Two can play at that game.'
I loaded some vegetables onto my barrow, pushed it to the edge of the pavement to where the young ladies were and showed them my massive turnip.
I said to them ‘Look at this. Isn’t it a beauty? I bet you’d like that in your hot-pot’
A passing Policeman stopped and told me to get back into my shop; I couldn’t get my turnip out like that. I told him the Pixie had been showing his plums. The Policeman said he didn’t care what the Pixie was doing, and he took down my particulars.
The Pixie on the street invited the Policeman to have a squeeze of his ripest banana.
‘Would you like this for your missus?’ asked the Pixie.
‘I’ll get my son to come round – he can’t get enough of ones like that’ replied the Policeman.
I mumbled under my breath about how these Pixies could do whatever they liked whilst I had to obey every ridiculous rule the council imposed. Well, I must admit I wasn’t expecting what happened next...
From the edge of the pavement came a mighty crashing sound as the manhole cover lifted. Out shot a procession of coppers. The new drain-positioned CCTV had picked up my muttering of malcontent with the Pixie newcomers. The filth-covered coppers gave me a resounding beating and plunged my head down into the sewer. I won’t tell you what they did with the marrow on my barrow!
Never again will I criticise our beloved Pixies. Never again will I be able to eat veg. Yuck!
