Cowley exploded . " If the scrambled egg brigade want him on the strength then we have tae go along wi 'it. D'ya ken?"
Bodie replied " We arent tryin to pull a moody , gaffer , but do we 'ave to babysit a chinless wonder from the f.o . I mean this whole oppo could go south. "
Doyle " Yeah , Gaffer, we've been sitting on Collins for four weeks . This herbert could blow the gaff! "
Cowley " This isnt a democracy Gentlemen , despite what the daily papers might say. So get your backsides out of my office and down to Horseguards. His name is Tarquin Rowland-Jenkins .
Bodie : " What else! "
The mood inside the Capri was matched by a light drizzle. Doyle swung the Capri into Horseguards and parked . Inside the victorian edifice , Bodie and Doyle felt like kids from the secondary modern inside a public school. They found the chinless wonder's office.
Rowland-Jenkins greeted them and ushered them to a table. A stenographer from the pool was on hand. A two pint screamer thought Bodie.
This was the transcript of their conversation :
TRJ – Tarquin Rowland-Jenkins
BOD- Bodie
DOY-Doyle
BOD – Right , The body we're after is one Max Alan Collins, a Grade-A blagger from Streatham. Used to do kneecap work for the Thompsons then moved up from GBH to blags.A bit tasty!
TRJ – Tasty?
DOY – Too right. 'Ees got more form than Ladbrokes. Likes to mix it up but generally goes around tooled up
TRJ – Tooled up?
BOD – Shooters, mate! Usually sawn offs . Reckons 'ees a bit 'andy!
TRJ – 'andy?
DOY – Puts it about! Likes a bit of aggro
TRJ – Ah
BOD – So we reckon that we oughta turn over his gaff!
TRJ – Gaff?
DOY – Yeah , Give his drum a spin. ;'ee might start brickin it!
TRJ – Eh?
BOD – 'Ee might ave it away in his jam jar
TRJ – Jam Jar?
DOY – Motor. Try and keep up. 'As 'ee got a piece on the side?
TRJ – Like a trollop?
BOD – That's the ticket! What if we give 'er a tickle?
TRJ – I'm sure that's against judges rules
DOY – We might make 'er cough
TRJ – That's what I'm afraid of!
BOD – We might get 'er to turn queens
TRJ – I'm totally lost
DOY – We nab 'is bird, give 'er some rabbit . Then we giv 'im a pull
TRJ – Now that's definitely against judges rules!
BOD – I've been meaning to ask , Tarquin, where did you get that accent?
TRJ – Eton. Old sausage!
BOD : Well , I should stop eating old sausages then!
This joke copyright Spike Milligan
