Of late, whilst my good lady wife Maureen has been helping to polish the firemen’s poles down at the Little Frigging fire station, I have been helping out down at the cakeshop. The cakeshop manageress, Fanny Knickerless, and her part-time assistant, Clitty Heftybaps, have both, at previous orgies in the village hall, complemented me on both the firmness and taste of my hot sausage. They have often suggested that they would like to have a portion of my hot sausage inserted into their sausage rolls down at the cakeshop.
I – of course – acquiesced to this request with alacrity, knowing that they would be more than happy to have me lick the cream from their apple turnovers and – perhaps – even offer me a good nibble of their fondant fancies in return. Then, obviously impressed by my outstanding culinary skills the ladies requested my assistance in making the holes in their doughnuts. I was more than happy to oblige, and even helped with applying some of my own farm-fresh cream over their eagerly proffered sweetened baps.
Not only that, both ladies seemed very exited by the fact that my visit to their premises had resulted in me also acquiring a splendid cream horn. Both ladies made it clear – however – that they would not allow me to leave their shop until both of them had had a taste of my cream horn, and a mouthful of cream each from it. Of course, I was most happy to oblige.
All, in all then a more than pleasant afternoon down at the Little Frigging cakeshop.