Wood You Beleaf It

‘Ooh, look at that!’ I exclaimed, being in possession of a rather low enthusiasm threshold. The van up ahead was looking rather more verdant than is normal in these parts.

Wood you believe it,’ replied Mr TLC, ‘I didn’t know this was a trunk road.’ (It’s the way he tells ’em you know.)

‘Er… no.’ (We will not mention my abject failure to think of a suitably witty retort. Unless you can think of something good for me, then I can pretend I said it.)

We follow the van for a bit.

We reach our turning.

Branch left,’ says Mr TLC, in a voice that sounds uncannily like that of Sandra the Satnav.

I try to give him a Mrs Bird Hard Stare, but this is not very practical whilst I’m driving and I end up resorting to telling Mr TLC that he is being admonished in this way. I’m sure he’s not allowed to think up all the bad jokes, especially when I can’t think of any.

The Mrs Bird Hard Stare bounces straight off Mr TLC.

‘I’ll leaf it out now, shall I?’


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