There’s Summat Not Right With Fred’s ‘At.

I were in the Nags ‘Ead, with me suppin’ pal Fred,

when, I noticed that summat weren’t right.

I thought. “That’s bloody queer, - - what’s goin’ on ‘ere?”

But, just thought it a trick of the light.

So I ‘ad a few more, - - (well I ‘ad t’ be sure),

I didn’t want to embarrass the chap.

But the more that I looked, - - I knew summat were up,

there were summat not right with Fred’s ‘at.

I said. “Now then our Fred, what’s up with yer ‘ead?

I’m not bein’ nosey or nowt.

But, yer look a right prat, what’s wrong with yer ‘at?

Cos it’s twitchin’ an’ thrutchin’ about.”

“Shurrup,” whispered Fred. “ ‘E’ll ‘ear you,” ‘e said.

“Yeah, shut yer gob,” said the ‘at.

“Just bugger off ‘ome, an’ leave us alone.”

I’ll admit, I were taken aback.

I said. “Hey look at that, a real talkin’ ‘at!”

Then I ‘ad to ‘old on t’ the chair.

Cos the strangest of things, when out shot two wings,

an the ‘at fluttered up in the air.

Now I’ve got t’ confess, I were somewhat impressed,

at an ‘at, that could talk an’ take flight.

It flew round the bar, but didn’t get very far,

til finally, it perched on the light.

“I warned yer,” sez Fred, “yer’ve upset ‘im,” ‘e said.

I sez. “Who?” - - ‘E sez, “ ‘im!” - - I said, “where?”

‘E said. “You an’ yer gob, - - yer’ve caused me some probs,

how do I get ‘im back down from up there?”

“Stand under.” I said, “it might land on yer ‘ead.”

‘E said. “What?” - - I said, “ ‘ead,” - - ‘e said, “why?

Don’t yer think I’ll look daft?” I said. “It’s your bloody ‘at,

at least yer can give it a try.”

Fred sez. “I don’t want me ‘at, - - I don't care about that.”

Well, I were gobsmacked at what I’d just ‘eard.

‘E could see I were puzzled, an’ started t’ chuckle,

‘e said. “I just want t’ get back me bird.”

I sez. “Bird?” ‘E sez. “Bird, - but don’t say a word,

I’ll be in bother,” ‘e sez. “If yer do.

I bought it last week from light fingered Pete,

ten quid for a green cockatoo.”

I sez. “A green cockatoo?” – ‘E sez. “Aye, from the zoo,

didn’t yer see it last week on the news?

Headlines in the Chron’. “RARE PARROT IS GONE!”

But, by now I were gettin’ confused.

I said. “I'm losin' the plot, there's some bits I've not got,

- - rare parrot?”  ‘E sez, “almost extinct.”

I said. “Explain it once more, cos I’m still not too sure,

I’ve maybe ‘ad too much t’ drink.”

“Settle down,” muttered Fred. “an’ listen,”  ‘e said.

“Rare parrot. - - Nicked last Thursday night.

I bought it off Pete, - - ten quid so t’ speak,

an’, now it’s sat up on the light.”

“I’ve got that.” I said, “but why on yer ‘ead?

Cage’s are not very dear.”

“I’ve got one,” sez Fred, “at ‘ome in me shed,

I’m just waitin’, t’ get the all clear.”

I said. “The all clear from who?” He said. “Pete at the zoo!

- - Aren’t yer listenin’?” - - But me brain ‘ad gone numb.

“They’re searchin’,”  ‘e said, “the cops an’ the feds,

if they catch us we’re gonna get done.”

“So, the parrot,” sez Fred, “must stay on me ‘ead,

‘e were adamant, were Pete about that.

‘E said. T’ not say a word. - - Don’t mention the bird.

AN’, JUST KEEP IT UNDER ME ‘AT!”

© Stan Brown.

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