Cold-caller (with a very strong Indian accent): Can I speak with the home-owner please?
Richard Carter: Hello, speaking.
CC: Hello, my name is Jackie. I am calling to tell you…
RC: What? Is your name really Jackie?
CC: Erm… Yes.
RC: Wow! I would never have had you down for a Jackie! What's your surname, Jackie, as a matter of interest?
CC: Erm… My name is Jackie… Chan.
RC: What, as in the movie star? The chap who does all that kung fu?
CC: Erm…
RC: He's great! Did you ever see that film where he fights with those ladders?
CC: …?
RC: … Is your name really Jackie Chan? That's amazing! Isn't he Chinese?
CC: Erm… My name is Jackie Chan Singh. Erm… My parents are big fans of his.
RC: Wow! That's totally unbelievable! How can I help you, Jackie?
CC: I am calling to tell you that your property qualifies for a government grant.
RC: Ooh, that's good! A government grant for what?
CC: A government grant for an upgrade.
RC: FANTASTIC!! Could I use it to build a tower? I've always wanted a tower!
CC: … I'm sorry, sir, I am having difficulty hearing what you are saying.
RC: Could… I… use… it… to… build… a… TO-WER?
CC: Did you say tower, sir?
RC: Yes. Like they have on castles. I've always wanted one. Could I use the government grant to build a tower on the side of my house?
CC: Erm…
RC: And possibly a moat?
At this point, the phone line went dead. A power cut wherever Jackie was calling from, I'll bet. Or something like that. I tried dialling 1471, but his number had been withheld. I suspect he'll call back when the power comes back on.
In the meantime, here is Jackie Chan—the Chinese one—fighting with the aforementioned ladders:
He certainly took steps to deal with them.
Five points deducted?
I'll get my coat!
It was a rung number.
/coat
When Titian was grinding rose madder
His model was posed on a ladder
Her position to Titian
Suggested coition
So he ran up the ladder and had her.
I'll be in the scorpion pit...
Zim, that happens to be my second favourite limerick of all time (read in a book of Henry Root letters). My favourite:
A mosquito was heard to complain
That the chemists had poisoned his brain.
The cause of his sorrow
Was paradichloro-
diphenyltrichloroethane.
(Nothing to do with ladders, obviously, but just saying.)
Ooh mi' DDT.
One for Nite Owl?
A pastime obsecene and unsavoury
Keeps the Bishop of Durham in slavery
With ridiculous howls
He deflowers young owls
Which he keeps in an underground aviary.
My favourite limerick?
There was a young scot called McRae
Who buggered his father one day
Saying...I like it rather
To stuff it up father
He's clean & there's nothing to pay
I wish I old think of a word that rhymes with youhurt!
Boggart?
Eating supper in my comfy chair
I was soon overcome with despair
Something's soured my youhurt
It must be that boggart
I'll get my coat, it's over there