Big screen funtime for us all

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YOU wanna see the sarze of the new TV Claude’s got in ’is garden. Ruddy huge it is, and picked up on Jersey Insart on Monday just gone. Hed a hell of a job hauling the ruddy thing all the way across the arland from the Waterfront, though it don’t half look good propped against the sard of ’is ’ass.

‘So what we gonna watch?’ says Miguel, as we sprawled aht on the grass of Claude’s neighbour’s garden at suitable distance, felt caps shieldin’ our ars, cans of Breda balanced precariously on our guts. ‘The footy’s over, so what’s next?’

Well thet got us scratchin’ our heads. Meanwharl the mere mention of the World Cup hed caused Jean to start chantin’, ‘It’s coming home, it’s coming home’ over and over again lark he was one of Pavlova’s dogs or something. It took a can of Breda bein’ emptied over ’is head and a nipple cripple from yours truly fer ’im to snap aht of it and realarse thet it weren’t.

‘They did well, the leds, though eh? And thet Sath-gate with ’is waistcoat. What a ruddy example to us all, eh?’

‘The Muratti!’ yells Claude, noddin’ over ’is neighbour’s fence towards ’is newly acquired massive screen. ‘Whar don’t we stick on some old Muratti vid-joes?’

Which was a narse ah-dea, save fer the fact thet the only recording we could farnd was a VHS tape of Jersey’s 6-2 drubbin’ of Guernsey beck in 1984, and what with us not hevvin’ a VHS player, well, thet was thet.

‘Hah ’baht a film?’ says Claude, startin’ to sweat a bit nah, what with his huge screen not doin’ an awful lot except bein’ expensive. ‘Ah got the Superman DVD kickin’ rahnd the lounge. If we can’t cheer on the narnteen-eighty-four Jersey football team at least we can cheer on our latest superstar, Mr Cavill.’

Well we all winced a little at thet, what with Mr Cavill gettin’ himself Me-tooed over the weekend.

‘Probably best to leave thet fer a bit,’ ah says. ‘He ain’t exactly flavour of the month rart nah. Trod in some Krypton-art and stuck it in ’is gob.’

‘Well what we gonna watch then?’ bleats Claude. ‘Ah didn’t spend mah cash on this ruddy thing just to look at mah reflection on the screen!’

‘Bergerac!’ ah says. ‘It’s gotta be on somewhere. Where’s the zapper?’

‘Strepped to the roof of mah car,’ says Claude. ‘Heng on.’

And off he went, gigglin’ lark a kid. Boys and their toys, eh? Ruddy brilliant.

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