Narrator "Somewhere in England, 1944."
The squadron leader enters an RAF officer's mess and takes off his helmet
Bovril: Morning, Squadron Leader.
Sqdn Ldr: What-ho, Squiffy.
Bovril: How was it?
Sqdn Ldr: Top hole. Bally Jerry pranged his kite right in the how's your father. Hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy, took a waspy, flipped over his Betty Harper's and caught his can in the Bertie.
Bovril: Er, I'm afraid I don't quite follow you, Squadron Leader.
Sqdn Ldr: It's perfectly ordinary banter, Squiffy. Bally Jerry... pranged his kite right in the how's your father...hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy, took a waspy, flipped over his Betty Harper's and caught his can in the Bertie.
Bovril: No, I'm just not understanding banter at all well today. Give us it slower.
Sqdn Ldr: Banter's not the same if you say it slower, Squiffy.
Bovril: Hold on then. (shouts) Wingco!
Wingco: Yes?
Bovril: Bend an ear to the Squadron Leaders banter for a sec, would you?
Wingco: Can do.
Bovril: Jolly good.
Wingco: Fire away.
Sqdn Ldr: ( draws a deep breath and looks slightly uncertain, then starts even more deliberately than before ): Bally Jerry...pranged his kite...right in the how's your father...hairy blighter...dicky-birdied...feathered back on his Sammy...took a waspy...flipped over his Betty Harper's...and caught his can in the Bertie...
Wingco: ...No, don't understand that banter at all.
Sqdn Ldr: Something up with my banter, chaps?
A siren goes. The door bursts open and an out-of-breath young pilot rushes in in his flying gear.
Pilot: Bunch of monkeys on the ceiling, sir! Grab your egg and fours and lets get the bacon delivered.
General incomprehension. They look at each other.
Wingco: Do you understand that?
Sqdn Ldr: No, didn't get a word of it.
Wingco: Sorry old man, we don't understand your banter.
Pilot: You know...bally ten-penny ones dropping in the custard...(searching for the words) um...Charlie Choppers chucking a handful...
Wingco: No, no...sorry
Bovril: Say it a bit slower, old chap.
Pilot: Slower banter, sir?
Wingco: Ra-ther!
Pilot: Um...sausage squad up the blue end!
Sqdn Ldr: No, still don't get it.
Pilot: Um...cabbage crates coming over the briny?
Sqdn Ldr: No.
Others: No, no...
Narrator: But by then it was too late. The first cabbage crates hit London on July 7th. That was just the beginning...
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We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother
Bring the Mosquito FB.MkVI Series 2 to Aces High!!!
Sisu
-Karnak
