26. Pott Poo Ree

The compressor room is very loud.
The compressor room is very hot.
The compressor room is so packed with machinery that it’s difficult to move in there.
The compressor room is not a place you want to be working.
Troll and Vulcan were working in the compressor room.
Old school engineers, they didn’t moan.
Just got on with it.
“Think I’ve found that leak, Vulcan.”
“Good work, Troll. Can you nip the seal up, or are we fitting a new one?”
“New one. Can you smell that? Strange smell, not burning.”
“No, not burning, that smell. Not gas.”
“No, not gas. Don’t know what it is. Makes me feel a bit odd though.”
“Yeah, odd. Bit sleepy.”
“Hmmm… Sleepy. Hungry too. You still got that packet of Hob Nobs in your cupboard, Troll?”
“Yeah! I could murder a Hob Nob, me. I’m feeling everso peckish, Vulcan. And sleepy. Shall we go get those Hob Nobs, then?”
“Ok. Let me just shut this valve off… shit.”
“Dropped m’spanner.”
“You’ve got hands like cows tits, you have, Vulcan. Where did it go?”
“Under that compressor. Careful. Bit warm under there.”
“I’m always careful… Ow!”
“You alright, Troll?”
“Yeah. It’s a bit warm under there.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it… Hang about. What’s this?”
“What’s what?”
“This. This dirty great bag of summat. That’s what’s causing the stink!”
“What is it? Looks like a sack of grass clippings.”
“Smells like that shite the wife likes to leave round the house in bowls.”
“Pott Poo Ree.”
“That’s what they call it. Pott Poo Ree.”
“Do they?”
“Yeah. Pott Poo Ree.”
“Fucking stupid name, that. Do you think this stuff is Pott Poo Ree, Troll?”
“If it is, what the hell is it doing under a compressor?”
“Good point. You’d better go tell Bear. He’ll know what to do. I’ll wait here with the Pott Poo Ree. Oh, and Troll?”
“Yeah, Vulcan?”
“Bring them Hob Nobs. I’m everso peckish.”
Troll returns with Bear.
And the Hob Nobs.
“Now then Vulcan. Troll tells me you’ve found something… what’s that fucking smell?”
“It’s this, Bear. In this bag. Pott Poo Ree. Don’t sniff it too hard though, it makes you’re head feel all funny. Have you got those Hob Nobs, Troll? Smashing.”
“That’s not Pott fucking Poo Ree. It’s drugs. It’s pot without the fucking Poo Ree!”
“To be honest Bear, I’ve always hated owt to do with drugs, but I can actually see the attraction right this minute. I’m off my fucking head.”
“Keep it together, Vulcan, and say nothing. Troll, put those fucking biscuits down, stop giggling and go fetch Cardboard Supervisor. This is a police matter.”
Troll returns with Cardboard Supervisor.
“Police!” he squeaks. “No police! We’ll deal with this ourselves. Internally. We don’t want trouble!”
“Oh, come on, Cardboard! This is a lot of drugs here! We can’t just chuck it in the bin! Somebody is using our factory to prepare drugs!”
“I know we can’t bin it, Bear. We’ll burn it. Vulcan, Troll, take this to the back yard and burn it in a metal bin. And don’t tell anybody about this. Understand?”
“Giggle. Yeah.”
“Giggle. Yes Mr Cardboard.”
An hour later.
*Ring ring*
“Hello, Bear speaking.”
“Hi Bear, this is Erebus, in the warehouse. Can you do something about Vulcan and Troll please?”
“Why? What have they done?”
“I’ve just found them cuddled up in my office. They stink of Pott Poo Ree. I can’t wake them up. The fuckers have eaten all my biscuits too. You owe me three packets of custard creams, Bear.”

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2 Responses to 26. Pott Poo Ree

  1. Pingback: Reprographics... - Page 7 - London Fixed-gear and Single-speed

  2. Pingback: Reprographics... - Page 7 - London Fixed-gear and Single-speed

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