Written by CaptainSausage

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Tuesday, 18 September 2012

image for Birdwatching with Bill and Kenneth How much moa can you take?

Bill: Hello there, and welcome to Birdwatching. My name's Bill Palmer.

Kenneth: And I'm Kenneth Purves.

B: We're here at Dorking Reservoir, it's a real top place for birdwatching and having a lark. We've got our little hide, Ken's got his thermos of coffee so we're all ready for a good night's twitching.

K: I'm hoping we'll see lots of birds tonight.

B: Well, Ken, this here reservoir used to be a nudist colony. Always been good for the birds. I remember the first time I came here, I caught a little thrush.

K: How did that go?

B: It cleared off. Now Dorking reservoir is best known for its tits. Great tits, white tits, brown tits, all sorts.

K: It's a bit nippy out, I expect we'll see some blue tits too.

B: Yes. And if you're lucky you might see a cockatoo. Now I'm just going to get my equipment out ready for a bit of twitching.

K: They don't call you the tripod for nothing.

B: Mind me third leg. I'm just going to shove it in here. There. Now I've got to screw it in, nice and tight.

K: While you're doing that, I'll explain about our programme. Whenever we see a bird, we has to call it out, and try to get a photograph of it.

B: That's right, Ken. But if it's a bit quiet we just has a bit of a chat.

K: How is your wife? I hear she don't like you birding so much any more.

B: No, she don't like me coming here at all. She said she wanted to...

K: Swallow!

B: Oh, yes, so it is. No, but my wife. She's always com...

K: Gosling!

B: You're sharp-eyed tonight, Ken. As I was saying, my wife is always complaining about my birdwatching. I don't know why.

K: Is she still controlling your food?

B: Yes, the only thing she'll let me have in the fridge is...

K: Mallard!

B: No, my sausages. But she only hates me birdwatching, she doesn't mind the birds at all. Why, just the other week we had a lazy jay in our garden, she were properly calm after that.

K: My Bernard is the same. You know we got our civil partnership last week.

B: Puffin!

K: Well there's no need for that kind of language. He's a very nice man. He's got a lot to offer.

B: Short-head chaffinch!

K: No, he's bigger than that. Do you know what he did for me last week?

B: Jackdaw! Over your face.

K: No. That's fowl.

B: It's a game cock actually.

K: Certainly is.

B: Great bustard!

K: My Bernard's been in trouble with the police lately though. The other week he got...

B: Spotted robin!

K: No, he was speeding in his car.

B: He'll be a jail-bird then if he's not lucky.

It's getting a bit quiet out there. Sometimes during these moments, me and Ken will have a game of chess. Here's the board. Now where were we?

K: Oh, over there. Is that your tern?

B: No, I remember I captured your rook.

K: You captured my Black Kevin?

B: Of course not. Christ, you're raven-mad, you are.

K: No need to crow about it.

B: But they're mean. I don't know why you keep those hard corvids.

K: Oh, them! They're special import, from Amsterdam.

B: What! Oh, look at that, is that a woodpecker?

K: It is a pecker. Look at him go!

B: He's ramming his head into yon bush. I bet that'd hurt.

K: There's a fly-catcher next to him.

B: Better be careful. You don't want your pecker getting caught with the fly-catcher.

K: No, he's zipped up and away now.

B: That was a close one. Ooh, have a gander over there.

K: That's not a gander, it's a goose. Watch out! It's coming this way.

B: Duck!

K: No, it was definitely a goose. It went right over us. What did you think it was?

B: Eider, big one.

K: So you keep saying.

B: Have you still got that cat?

K: Yes, Tigger. He really loves birds, he does.

B: What does he do when he catches them?

K: He mews.

B: Blimey! I didn't know you got them up your way. I remember seeing your cat. Strange thing. It really smelt funny, a bit like...

K: Macaque!

B: No, it wasn't that bad. Oh wait, I've got to take a picture of this one.

K: I see it. Did you get it? Did you get the hornbill?

B: No, it's just the way I'm sitting.

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

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