Written by Skoob1999

Saturday, 18 February 2012

image for Local Couple Have Big Night Out
This Article Is Exactly Like The Kind Of Nonsense Currently Available In The Dorking Review

Local couple, Martin and Anne Shuttlecock went for a big night out this evening, in order to celebrate Anne's ongoing recovery from major surgery, and her subsequently excellent prognosis.

Various options for the big night out were explored, before Anne finally elected to go shopping at the new Tesco store in downtown Dorking.

The one by the roundabout with the really confusing array of traffic lights.

"She likes shopping," Shuttlecock said. "In fact, she could shop for England."

Anne told reporters that she was relishing the prospect of a romantic stroll along each and every aisle of the store, squeezing every single loaf of bread, testing the fruit and veg for freshness, scrutinising the various cook-in sauce options, and looking to buy as many cooked chickens as possible - even though most of it would have inevitably ended up in the bin, as Anne no longer possesses a cat to clear up her unwanted chicken purchases.

"I wasn't having that," Shuttlecock asserted. "She takes ages shopping, so I told her in no uncertain terms not to fanny about squeezing bread, or buying cooked chickens which she'll only end up lobbing in the bin anyway, as I was footing the bill, and I wasn't buying excess shite. As it happened she didn't do too badly. We went into the store for some alcoholic beverages, some white pepper, a bag of sugar, and some fish. She did buy a pork loin roasting joint for about seven squids, but all in all I think I got off lightly. The whole trip only set me back about forty quid."

Long suffering wife, Anne, lashed out at her grumpy bastard of a husband who she wishes she'd never married in the first place, telling reporters:

"He's a miserable bastard. I tried everything to get him to indulge me in a spot of quality shopping, but he wouldn't have it. I even offered to pay, but he saw right through that ruse. I was dying to squeeze the bread and the fruit and veg, test the temperature of the wet fish, and browse over the specially selected cuts of offal, but the bastard was having none of it. We were in and out in seconds - which, come to think of it, sort of describes our love life."

Mercifully, the eagerly anticipated big night out wasn't a total disaster, as Shuttlecock himself explains:

"There was a couple in front of us at the checkout, and the bloke looked a bit eccentric, sort of like your average Spoofer, and he'd left a big bag of dried cat food on the end of the conveyor, where you put your stuff on.

"When the wife asked him if he'd forgotten to put his cat grub through, he went into this hilarious mime routine, indicating that he was denying all knowledge. Then the bloke on the checkout put his finger through a yoghurt pot and ended up with yoghurt all over his finger. The checkout bloke had to call for a bloke wearing a headset, who then called for a shop assistant, who then nipped off to get some J-cloths to clean the mess up. Then the eccentric Spoofy type bloke's wife produced all these discount coupons and sent the bloke back to get some more bags of dried cat food because it was on special offer. Eventually, they paid the bill and buggered off."

But that wasn't all, as Shuttlecock continued:

"When we got to the checkout, the bloke asked the wife if she wanted a discount coupon for a set of kitchen knives. I sort of advised him not to be so bleeding stupid as to offer the wife a set of discounted edged weapons when I'm with her, and protectively cupped my wedding tackle with both hands. He sort of laughed about that, so I politely pointed out to him that only moments earlier, he'd been sitting there holding his hand in the air, frantically pressing the 'HELP' buzzer with his free hand with what looked like fresh spunk running down his upstretched finger. For all to see. I think he got the hump at that point. But all's well that ends well, and we got home in time to watch Harry Hill's TV Burp, which was really very funny."

Long suffering wife Anne was unavailable for further comment, as she'd gone into the kitchen, squeezing bread and sniffing last week's cooked chickens as she pondered over what might have been.

More as we get it.

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

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