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novel #35

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Edited by Neil Anderson, Wednesday, 28 Mar 2012, 21:59

My wife and I went to buy plants, the stuff that maintains plants and the stuff that makes them grow better. We went to B&Q in short.

Everyone there is, at least, semi-geriatric, so things move... slowly. [Not that this is a bad thing.] So we pottered round, smelling herbs, agonizing about buying Euphorbia and filling our trolley. Finished, we to the 'tills'.

Which was when I saw them; the four be-chained-multi-pierced-black-tee-shirted-with-a-logo blokes drolling over the chain-saws. They sell chain saws here?

Do they sell chain-saws to anybody?

A bearded ginger-monster caught me staring and winked.

This was B&Q, I wandered over, leaving my trolley and my wife. [Who tasked me for this later.]

"What do you want one of these for?" I waved at the sinister collection of objects that are designed solely to rip.  It has to be said that now that I was near I could see the attraction—these were serious pieces of kit.

"To chop your legs off..."

At which point I was lost for words and having issues.

"Nah!", he slapped me in a matey fashion on the shoulder and showed me a perfect set of teeth.

"We do trees mate, these..." he waved more impressively than I had at the chainsaws, "is only good for cutting yer grass".

 

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