Mr. Biggins invited me round to see the club in all its glory as the re-furbishment is complete and all interior décor is up and ready for the big night.
As I had been personally invited I must say I thought my entry to the club would be a mere formality but oh no. When I arrived Mr. Biggins was standing outside the door saying Damn, Bugger, Damn, Damn, Bugger.
When I enquired as to what the problem might be he said he’d been oiling the intercom mechanism when the club door blew shut. He couldn’t get back in and couldn’t rouse Mrs. Flagg on the intercom as he’d forbidden her to go into his store room on Tuesdays and Thursdays as that was Mrs. Dixon’s cleaning days and anyway Mrs. Flagg doesn’t always remember to wear her hearing aid so there was no guarantee that she would hear him anyway.
I pointed out that she doesn’t need to hear anything as it’s the red light on his bingo table that alerts the occupier to the fact that there’s someone outside trying to get in.
Mr. Biggins said I was an idiot and didn’t I know that Mrs. Flagg had lost her glasses weeks ago.
It was at this point that Mrs. Flagg came out of the back door which doesn’t lock anymore since the four alcoholic brothers from the funny family got locked in overnight after the buy one get one free evening.
Apparently they panicked and broke open the back door with old Mr. Ramsbottom’s wooden leg which unfortunately completely disintegrated during the assault.
I didn’t know Mr. Ramsbottom had a wooden leg but Mrs. Flagg says he doesn’t now.
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