That's Mr. Cant To You

You're a big man, but you're in bad shape. With Brain it's a full time job.

We’ve got our goose for Christmas or at least a lump of frozen fowl that I shall pick at with cooking pliers and a manly kitchen drill closer to the time, and with which I shall hunt up the giblets. It wasn’t looking good. We’ve not had a good local butcher since the coming of the out of town supermarkets – and there is no out of town. And the out of town we do not have, does not have a supermarket. Meat for most of our neighbours comes as I’ve previously described; in long boxes, clothed. But we have a goose for Christmas because I cook a very nice goose, and whilst I am spending a whole morning nicely cooking said goose I won’t be around my girls - and the drums they want from Santa.

But I was fortunate only the other day to come across the local youths, hanging about, and up to no good. In their faded rainbow dungarees our youths, a gang, can get whatever we want for a price. They act mean, even nasty but the pencil moustache sported by Toni Arthur was outdated in the fifties and Floella’s leather looks newer than one found in a stage-school production of Grease. They’re not Brian’s bitches, because Brian hates to be uncouth. He’s a little piece of London is Mr. Cant and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if our goose, defrosted, shows a cut from ear to ear the size of the spike bayonet with which he likes to visibly prune.  Or I would be surprised, but rather at the ears.

They’re out there now, Brian and his droogs. He espouses ultra-play, drinking milk-plus and lovely Ludwig Van. Brian The Cant. What worries me is that when it came to paying Brian waved away wallet and watch. A favour was all he demanded, that if in the future I too can be of help to he – then so be it. He did not smile when he said it, but he did sing. So too did Toni Arthur. But not Floella Benjamin. Floella with the violin bow strung with a wire saw, with her Humpty bombs and Hamble dusters. She said nothing but following her gaze I was left in no doubt that come favour time I had better deliver. Else it’d be three storeys up and only question remaining being is it the square?

Circle?

Or triangle window.