Written by Skoob1999
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Saturday, 16 July 2011

image for Local Man Unwitting Witness To Daft Bag Leaving Bag On Train
Hen Party Or Lazy Image Choice? - You Decide.

Local man, Martin Shuttlecock, once again found himself unwittingly at the heart of another British service industry crisis today, as he innocently minded his own business, waiting for a train at the local station. Apparently in order to board an electrically powered locomotive en route to his place of work.

It was as Shuttlecock was staring blankly at the day's edition of The Times Crossword, that the Cardiff/Portsmouth train pulled into the platform, disgorging a Welsh hen party onto the platform, all wearing identical tee shirts and hauling luggage.

And being a bit noisy, which in Hampshire of a lunchtime simply isn't the done thing.

It may be acceptable in Bermondsey, but certainly not in Bursledon.

The crisis only arose when one of the hen party announced that she'd left her bag on the now departed train, which apparently contained essential supplies, such as shoes and make-up.

The lady in question was betiding woes and acting in a most unseemly manner over said loss, when a dignified gentleman (Not Shuttlecock) pointed out that if she contacted station staff immediately, staff at stations down the line would endeavour to retrieve her lost shoes and make up at the earliest possible opportunity.

A concensus was agreed, whereby the hen party ladies (who were drinking heavily by Hampshire hen-party standards) would travel on to Portsmouth Harbour to retrieve said make-up and shoes bag.

At which point, Shuttlecock boarded his train and fled the scene.

"I don't know what that was all about," he groaned. "It makes me nervous when you get large, unsupervised groups of women drinking alcohol and revelling of a lunchtime. Especially when they're all wearing short skirts and being over familiar with people. The last time that happened to me, I didn't go home again for four years. They won't be catching me out like that again, I can tell you. Especially since the days of me dodgy knee."

To whit, one of the Welsh revellers remarked, as Shuttlecock boarded his train:

"Whews that miserable bastard, Bach? Isnit? Where's me shoes and me make up?"

Hopefully winging themselves to more amenable climes.

Isnit. Bach.

More as we get it.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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