Written by Skoob1999

Thursday, 16 October 2008

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The story you are trying to access may cause offense, may be in poor taste, or may contain subject matter of a graphic nature. This story was written as a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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image for How I, Arthur Pewty, was conned by my own wife
Not The Temptations

Beryl asked me one day if I fancied watching the Temptations live in concert. Of course I said yes, that would be great, so Beryl said not to worry about the arrangements as she had everything in hand. All I had to do was negotiate some time off work in order to fit everything in.

So I approached Wayne, my team leader and requested the second half of Thursday's shift off, and the Friday following, as it looked like it was going to be a long night. Wayne told me that I could take two half shifts off but would have to report for the second part of my Friday shift because he had no cover.

Anyways, we go to this gig in this sink-hole place called Fareham, at Fernham Hall, and I'm smelling a rat by this time.

Turns out that the Temptations weren't appearing at all, it was a Motown tribute band. I felt a right twat, but the band were good as it turned out.

Anyway, the following day I'm getting ready for work and the carbon monoxide detector in my house goes off. This is an emergency situation - open doors and windows, disconnect all energy supplies at the mains and wait for the gas board to come out.

Turned out that I got an all clear from the gas engineer and Wayne informed me that my Bradford Factor was going through the roof and that I faced a disciplinary hearing.

I also had to endure everybody taking the piss when I got back to work.

I've told the world, I ain't no frickin' gangster.

Why does nobody believe me?

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

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