Читать книгу The Pied Piper of Hamelin - Russell Brand - Страница 9

Now if you ask me, the children of Hamelin were a wretched posse of pink-cheeked snot-sacks;

guzzling chocolate and gurgling lemonade,

belching up grog with

pockets full of mulch

and bottoms

full of stink.

There wasn’t a kid in Hamelin I’d go near with a ‘gorgeousness’ trophy unless it was to

bosh ’em over

the noggin.