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Miffin: my part in his downfall

Submitted by on May 30, 2014 – 11:36 pmNo Comment
puffer-fish2The jolly ho ho approached me, you can’t make personal remarks. I didn’t I replied, I just shouted ‘you fat git’. You pointed in his direction and shouted ‘you fat git’. No, I’m sorry but when I was pointing in his direction I was shouting ‘you nazi scum’ and that is just a point of fact. He is a nazi and scum. You can’t use personal insults so don’t say he is a fat git. But, I retorted, he is fat.

He was fat, so fat that his belly formed an enormous mass around which millions of atoms had became stuck in a never-ending journey orbiting the fat git’s stomach. In time the atoms themselves, following the laws of Newton, had become attracted to each other, forming tiny orbiting objects. And one can only assume that given every galaxy is centred with a black hole, this fat git’s black hole was centred somewhere in the mass of fat blubbery mess that was his stomach. Having anything black associated with this specimen of race mastery must be very unnerving for a fascist twat.
I politely asked the jolly ho ho if that was a point of law. Is it permissible to point at a nazi and scream in their face ‘you nazi scum’ but not permissible to say, without pointing, ‘you fat git’? Our very jolly laughing police cuntstable declined to affirm or refute, skulking back to rejoin the thin yellow-jacketed line.
How would that work in court then?  He was a nazi and so therefore scum, this was fact and so therefore allowable. He was also enormously fat, his belly a gargantuan tribute to pork pies, chips and double cream cake. His fatness could not be relinquished or rebuffed. It was fact, there for all the world to see. But the laughing one may have me on the gitness of the nazi scum. Git being a pregnant fish. I have to concede at this point that this fat nazi was in all likelihood not a fish, pregnant or otherwise.  He stood breathing, to all intents and purposes through his ugly mouth. There was not a gill in sight or any form of underwater breathing organ that could be discerned at the distance I gazed upon his white supremeness.There was also the pregnancy. He could have been pregnant even if he wasn’t a fish. I did assume his maleness and wasn’t inclined to delve into the dark smelly interior of this wobbling mass of blubber to find out. It was an area of his anatomy that hadn’t seen the light of day for many a long year and it should rightly stay that way. It was also pointed out to me that fish don’t get pregnant, they lay eggs in the main. So there it was, I could be guilty of mistaking this fat wobbling mess of naziness as a fish. But is it a crime to mistake a fat nazi for a fish?
The nazis downright refused to sing but they did smoke much, which we encouraged and even offered them plenty of cigarettes. The arrival of the master of the master racial type offered us much more fun. Remembering to refrain from calling him a fat git and sticking to ‘you nazi scum’. The men in fluorescent yellow gallantly allowed him to be biff bonged and decked. The masterly ones scampering terrified into the realm of the hall for the town. Leaving the fish mistakers to sing ‘Follow your leader – shoot yourself like Adolf Hitler’, which is also acceptable in law apparently.

Fish or no he’s gone.

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