Sentence The Fivehundredandseventyfifth

Ambisinistrous though The Intruder AKA etc etc may be, he did not win the reputation of an Ace second only to his friend and mentor Baron Manfred von Richthofen on anything but genuine merit - his reflexes, ability to see a dogfight on three different planes, and superlative aircraftsmanship were what won him his place in the Hall of Fame; but he could not thread a needle if his life depended on it, "and that," said Wee Wullie Wastle to his pal Bernie Blueberg, in The Clansman that night, "isnae

the attribute o a Costumier," and Bernie nodded, "no even a Tailor, fer fuck sake, whae'er heard o a Maister Tailor wha cannae thread a needle?" and Wullie sipped his heavy: "we're no sycophants Bernie, we saw through the chancer an that's why we's daen a the work fer tuppence a line," and Bernie sipped in company: "his claim tae hae severe pains in his fingas that stoaps him haudin a pair o shears an cuttin oot Harris Tweed's a load o shite! yin dae he can, next day he's wavin cerificates frae doctors an specialists aboot Fiberymaccaroni, Haemorrhoid Arthur Askey testifyin tae his acute disability and intermediate cessation frae daen owt - leavin it aw tae us Jocks in the back shoap - it's aw obfuscation if ye aske me<" and Wullie replied, "a wee hauf tae strengthen yer heavy?" and called to Bill Martin behind the bar: "two wee Bells ta," and was about to speak again to Bernie when the door to the hall at the back opened as two punters came out for a drink and the bass thump-thump of some kind of Gaelic Roots-Rock reached their ears – as Bernie put it: "some kind o Teuchter-Yankee Fuckin Racket," and the two old cutters-and-sewers cackled into their beers!