Читать книгу ‘… and that’s when it fell off in my hand.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 32

Mr Next Door was sensationally red as he tried to shake Angus off the end of his stick.

He said, in between wheezing and coughing, “This thing is demented, it should be put down!!”

Oh yeah, fat chance – Angus nearly had the vet’s arm off the last time he was in surgery. The vet has asked us to not come back again.

However, I used my natural talents of diplomosity with Mr Mad. I spoke clearly and loudly. “You need another broom to beat him off with.”

I said again, “YOU NEED ANOTHER BROOM TO BEAT HIM OFF WITH.”

He said, “There’s no need to shout, I’m not deaf.”

And I said, “Pardon?”

Which is an excellent display of humourosity in anyone’s book. Except Mr Mad’s. In the end, I lassoed Angus with the clothesline and dragged him home and locked him in the airing cupboard. Dad’s “smalls” (not) will be in tatters by morning, but you can’t have everything.