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Those idle wimmin still in their pits when they're supposed to be making our breakfasts. Idle swines.

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I shall ignore that remark Mr. Judd.
Some of us have been busy all day, but even if we hadn't, making you lot's breakfast would be far from our thoughts, especially as you idle men don't make so much as a cup of tea for us.



Now then ladies, where were we . . . oh yes, shall we have a sit down and a natter?

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They're not very good at it anyway, they either burn it or it's under cooked but will they be told? No!

It seems the Mups one has surfaced but no sign of the other wimmin of the night.

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Wretched men. Lucky they decided not to stay long, they'd have got their ears boxed.

I am deteecting Spitty hovering in the distance, but he needn't get comfortable . . .

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I trust that you are at your local church confessing your sins, especially the brutish way you abuse us poor men.

I shall have a word with your vicar to make sure that you have completed your punishment.

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I go to my local church to prey for you Judd.

I ask for forgiveness for you, and that your many sins be forgiven.
I preyed that you may be shown the path to mend your ways and lead you to righteousness.

*

*

Then I asked for permission to smack you round the ear, just incase.

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Dongle, just because you took your shoes off, don't think we can't hear you creeping about in the hallway . . . the stinking socks were a giveaway anyway.

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Forget the socks ....... I had baked beans earlier.

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I bit my lip but I can not contain myself any longer.

It's prayed, and in case is two words.

Now I've got that off me chest, it's teatime.

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A Freudian slip. remember all those builders that went missing at Mup's house?