Sentence The Threehundredandthird
On the day of the Dumbiedykes Clan Gathering, Rusty Irons and Dusty Douglas were fair run off their feet, meeting the requirements of the thirsty and hungry folk crammed into the back room of The Ship Inn, as well as their thirsty and hungry customers in the front bars; Dusty, the blonde, busty, blowsy barmaid, Rusty's live-in helpmeet and acknowledged paramour, chattered away continually with her employer and lover all day long in that exclusive polari only comprehensible to others in the trade and of their sexual orientation about the things she wanted them to do on payday, when they would be off duty and free to indulge themselves: “in every possible way,” she murmured
flirtatiously, batting the eyelashes that turned Rusty's insides to water; and all the while, time moved relentlessly on – the drinkers demanded refills, the chef threatened to walk out if she did not get the promised KP, and the Gathering in the back room became noisily vociferous to the extent that some of the regular punters in the front bar kept requesting the volume on the large-screen turned up so they could hear the commentator of the Old Firm game over the shouts and arguments issuing from back to front; and when at long, long last, the crowds had left and the waiting-staff helped them set
the House up for the morning trade and the two lovers retired to their sweet little bedroom overlooking the Square, they continued their discussion of their hopes and plans all through a night of strenuous sexual shenanigans, barely sleeping at all, until the Town Clock chimed the waking hour and they talked through their shared shower and a snatched breakfast in readiness for Opening Time, and when all was satisfactory the pair took a coffee out back in the Beer Garden and realised that their discussion had begun twenty-four hours before and had not yet reached any sort of conclusion, at which point Dusty hailed up a red-painted finger nail to Rusty's lips to indicate that she required her to pause, mid-sentence, and produced one of the spontaneous rhymes which Rusty so loved and which were a feature of Dusty's presence in the Pub's bars, often demanded by the regulars, but this one concerned just the two of them, and it went:
“Rusty and Dusty bizbabbled yin day
o the desiderata they'd buy wi their pay;
noo, the haunds o the dial
turned roon a hale diel.
But their whilom wis past an they'd na walked yin mile,”
which had such an effect on Rusty, that she immediately went down on one knee, heedless of the damp flagstone, took Dusty's soft hand in her own, and proposed a Marriage which Dusty, who had never expected to see the day, immediately and delightedly accepted!
On the day of the Dumbiedykes Clan Gathering, Rusty Irons and Dusty Douglas were fair run off their feet, meeting the requirements of the thirsty and hungry folk crammed into the back room of The Ship Inn, as well as their thirsty and hungry customers in the front bars; Dusty, the blonde, busty, blowsy barmaid, Rusty's live-in helpmeet and acknowledged paramour, chattered away continually with her employer and lover all day long in that exclusive polari only comprehensible to others in the trade and of their sexual orientation about the things she wanted them to do on payday, when they would be off duty and free to indulge themselves: “in every possible way,” she murmured
flirtatiously, batting the eyelashes that turned Rusty's insides to water; and all the while, time moved relentlessly on – the drinkers demanded refills, the chef threatened to walk out if she did not get the promised KP, and the Gathering in the back room became noisily vociferous to the extent that some of the regular punters in the front bar kept requesting the volume on the large-screen turned up so they could hear the commentator of the Old Firm game over the shouts and arguments issuing from back to front; and when at long, long last, the crowds had left and the waiting-staff helped them set the House up for the morning trade and the two lovers retired to their sweet little bedroom overlooking the Square, they continued their discussion of their hopes and plans all through a night of strenuous sexual shenanigans, barely sleeping at all, until the Town Clock chimed the waking hour and they talked through their shared shower and a snatched breakfast in readiness for Opening Time, and when all was satisfactory the pair took a coffee out back in the Beer Garden and realised that their discussion had begun twenty-four hours before and had not yet reached any sort of conclusion, at which point Dusty hailed up a red-painted finger nail to Rusty's lips to indicate that she required her to pause, mid-sentence, and produced one of the spontaneous rhymes which Rusty so loved and which were a feature of Dusty's presence in the Pub's bars, often demanded by the regulars, but this one concerned just the two of them, and it went:“Rusty and Dusty bizbabbled yin day
o the desiderata they'd buy wi their pay;
noo, the haunds o the dial
turned roon a hale diel.
But their whilom wis past an they'd na walked yin mile,”
which had such an effect on Rusty, that she immediately went down on one knee, heedless of the damp flagstone, took Dusty's soft hand in her own, and proposed a Marriage which Dusty, who had never expected to see the day, immediately and delightedly accepted!
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