who are out of work-- supposed to be out of work, I correct myself, receive two pounds per week more than you, in fraudulent Social Security payments. Gallowsbird Speak your words! Shout your words! Pickles Olaf Gallowsbird urged the Cidermen. Cidermen We want the Duke! Bring on the Duke!' Gallowsbird That is the funken Duke! That is the Duke standing up there. When are you lot ever going to recognise him? Cidermen Well! Get him off the frigging cider! Get down of there you fat pillock till we get a sup of that stuff! Gallowsbird You can’ t use them type of words. If you want the little pillock down you have to use nice words. Pickles But they just waved their chipped shaving mugs in anger. Davy Brudder and the Social Security Men formed a ring around Marmaduke. They pointed their white sticks at the unruly Cidermen. Olaf Gallowsbird threatened Davy Brudder and the SS Men. The situation became very nasty. Twaddle We must diffuse this situation this very moment. Release the cider consignment. Release the cider consignment, IMMEDIATELY. Pickles Olaf Gallowsbird pulled out the bottom crate and Twaddle toppled off the top one and unto his renowned, fat ass. Davy Brudder helped him to his feet and smiled, wryly at the leader of the Cidermen, indicating
that he had done his cause no good at all. The Cidermen got stuck into the scrumpy. When they had supped all the booze they brawled their way into the Cosh and Jemmy for more. Marmaduke was flabbergasted. He stood there with his stubby little hand over his fat ass. Cecil Cretin sat sucking his thumb but Davy Brudder had the presence of mind to take advantage of the situation. He jumped unto a broken crate and addressed his Social Security Men. Brudder Stand to order! Pickles The SS Men struck their chests with their white walking sticks and clicked their heels smartly. Brudder Our revered leader, Duke Marmaduke Twaddle, has just informed me that he will promote you, my faithful SS Men, to his personal bodyguard if you will obey his orders this day. I give you Duke Marmaduke Twaddle! Pickles Marmaduke was completely caught off-guard and mumbled to himself as he mounted what was left of the cider-crates: Twaddle Duke-bloody-Marmaduke: personal blobby-buddy-guard. What ' s he playing at? Why can ' t he refer to me gracefully as Your Grace? Cretin Gain control Duke! Stand steady on those crates and speak your words. Twaddle There you go too! Do not treat me like a frigging Cider-loony. Pickles He backhanded his little mate around the ears. Once again the little ginger haired man slunk away in a huff. Eventually Marmaduke Twaddle calmed down sufficiently to speak: