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Pirate sheep on a washing machine


'Har! Har! Har! Wooooooohoooooooooooooooooooooo!' Flossie bleated.

'Having fun?' Lefty called up to him.

'Hhhhaven't hhhhhad ssssoooo mmmmuccchhhh ffffuunnnnnn innnnnnn yyyearrrrssssss!' Flossie called back. 'Lloooooookkkk ooutttttt, ssssppinnn ccccyyycccclllleeee cccoooomminnnnngggg uuuppppp! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Aaaccctttuaaalllyyyy ccoouuulldddd yyyooouuuuu tttuuuurrrnnn iiiitttt offfffff ffffoorrrr aaaa mmmmmooooooo!!!!'

Lefty lent over and tapped the pause button.

'Phew! That's better!' Flossie gasped. 'So, plenty of filthy loot still rolling in?'

'I'm getting it washed as quickly as I can,' Lefty replied.

'Excellent! To be honest I've always been slightly annoyed that people get their loot so dirty. There's no need for it.'

'Most of the marks are washing out and once they're ironed they're perfectly usable.'

'Brilliant!'

'The trick is to iron them while they're still damp. Mum taught be that years ago, didn't you mum? Mum!......MUM!'

'I think she's taken them out.'

'No, she's wearing them but it's that time of the afternoon.'

'Glad she's here though.'

'She was helping me earlier on.'

'Grand lady! Now, if you're sure you can manage without me, I'll be getting along.'

So Lefty hit the pause button once more and Flossie and the washing machine shuddered off into the distance.




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