‘Nabob the Paybob’
And it came to pass that there was a great deficit of a**e in the land and Nabob, son of Paybob, travelled the road from Pompey to Guzz and as he passed through Fareham he was set upon by bandits. But these were not just any old bandits, they were a**e bandits, and they ragged, bagged and s*****d him and sent him on his way rejoicing and he was gasping for a tickler and they drew lots for his Burberry.
The first traveller to pass him was a Farasee. He was niether a tall man, nor a short man. He was niether a fat man, nor a thin man, but he was a f*****g great big Jossman, who spat upon him, kicked him in the b******s, and passed by on the other side of the road.
The next traveller was a Jenny, who came upon him saying, “What does thou sayest?” And Nabob, in the true style of the S&S branch, snivelled, whinged, and whined and cried, saying, “I an Nabob, son of Paybob, and I was travelling from Pompey to Guzz, taking well earned shekels to hairy a***d matelots, when I was set upon by bandits, and not just ordinary bandits, but a**e bandits, and they ragged me, bagged me and s*****d me and sent me on my way rejoicing. I was gasping for a tickler. Then they drew lots for my Burberry, now I shall be deprived of my customary 15% of the takings.”
Jenny, though being of the Samaritan tribe, she was not one to pass on the main chance, and sayeth, “Cometh, dwelleth with me.”
And so Nabob did dwelleth. Well, being the scrounging, snivelling git that he was, he would, wouldn’t he.
There then followed forty days and forty nights of sin and dwelling with the Samaritans at Haslar. Then in the month of the Great Spring Tides, Sister Jenny sayeth unto Nabob, son of Paybob, “Nabob, I am great with child, let us not delay. Let us go before the Sin Bosun. Wilt thou take me unto a state of nautical wedlock, so that I might partake of your allowances of marriage, together with your nutty ration? Let us dwell forever amongst the Houses and the Quarters of Wedlock, where I may rejoice with the other Naval Wives and drink goffers at Stand Easy.”
And Nabob, white with fear, trembling at the knees and urinating down his doeskin, fearing for his Pusser’s ‘ard, Blue Liners, tins of tickler and the greatest of all these benifits, his Tot, Nabob said, “F*****G HELL!!” and disappeared unto the wilderness beyond the Hill of Portsdown.
It hath since been rumoured that sightings hath been made deep in the dark cellars of a place nam-ed Dryad. He was once heard to wail amongst the battlements of Castle Purbrook. But Wing-ed Wrens, have “known him” deep in the Morse of St Peter’s Field.
Here endeth the first lesson.