Hogg / Brown.

Written By Gary Hogg & Stan Brown.

    Once upon a time, there were two blokes. One from the deepest depths of uncharted Oldham, (that's me that is). The other was from just off the coast of Norway, (Newcastle to be more precise), and he was called Garry Hogg. Now both of them had brain cells that were overflowing with what can only be described as utter rubbish. So they decided to amalgamate, and write a few monologues together. The results of this exercise are below, hope you enjoy them. Stan:>)

One day quite by chance, Joe the plumber's wife, Nance,
saw two parrots, in t'cage, in a shop.
She thought. "Hey, they look nice, an' they're not a bad price,"
so she nipped in an' bought up the lot.

Then the next Monday night, she noticed summat not right,
they were jus' sat there like two pounds of tripe.
She said. " 'Ello buggerlugs," but none of 'em budged,
'til she prodded 'em, wi' a bit of lead pipe.

She muttered a curse, as they fell off the perch,
an' bein' alert, she thought. "Summat's awry."
So she did t' best she could, force feedin' 'em grub,
an' chuckin' 'em, t' get 'em to fly

They wouldn't do nowt, they just lay there flat out,
so she rummaged around for a box.
"It's not on is this," she sez, getting' right miffed,
  an' she took em both back t' the shop."

She sez. "I bought these two birds on August the third,"
'e said. "Aye, so big deal, what's the prob'?"
She said. "There's summat not reet, they won't even eat,
so I 'ave t' shove seed in their gobs."

Then she opened the box an' tipped 'em both out,
she sez. "Jus' look at the state o' the things.
They've both gone right limp, an' they're startin' t' stink,"
an' she dangled 'em both by their wings.

"I want 'em replaced," she said stony faced.
"A lifetime guarantee's what yer said."
'E said. "That's null an' void," she said. "Why?" Right annoyed,
'e said. "Can't yer see? Yer daft bugger, they're dead!"

She let fly with 'er bag and she clouted the lad,
she said. "Hey, watch yer tongue, where's yer manners?"
As 'e crumpled an' sagged, she looked at her bag
an' realised it were Joe's bag of spanners

He got up from t' floor saying. "Don't 'it us no more,"
quite shaken from Nancy's attack.
But 'e soon changed 'is tune, as 'e stood there an' swooned,
an' sez. "I'll jus' see what I've got out the back."

He were back in a jiff, 'e said. " 'Ow's about this?"
'E'd a strange lookin' bird on 'is arm.
"I'd forgot it," 'e said. "It lives in me shed,
be careful," 'e said. "It's quite warm."

"It's a Phoenix," 'e told 'er, "an' sometimes they smoulder,
'ere, 'ave a feel at the 'eat.
She 'eld out 'er 'and, she said. "Eee, that feels grand,
I can train it t' lie on me feet."

'E were dead chuffed to get shot, were the bloke, like as not,
It'd cost 'im a fortune yer see.
Settin' fire to 'is profits, - burnin' 'oles in 'is pockets,
'e thought. "She'll not get the better o' me."

Next day she were back, she sez. "Hey what's the crack?
It were sat on me shoulder las' night.
Then it burst into flames, - I've brought its remains,
an' it's singed all me 'air on the right."

So she tips up the box, an' the Phoenix pops out,
an' starts shakin' the ash from its wings.
The bloke 'e jus' laughed. "Yer guarantee's still intact,
they go on forever these things."

Well, it'd scorched all 'er curtains, burnt 'oles in t' settee,
an' the bog rolls in t' privy that night.
Charred the bannister rail, an' singed the cats tail,
before settin' the mattress alight.

At church, Sunday morn, she sat next to Sid Vaughan
from the Crem', 'e were wringin' 'is 'ands.
"Please God," Sid said. "Forget daily bread,
a few tons o' coke'd be grand."

So she put an 'and on his shoulder, an' Sid turned an' 'e told her.
"I've got this big problem at t' Crem'.
There's nowt I can do, there's three off wi' the flu,
an' the coalman's not turned up again."

She sez. " 'Aven't yer 'eard? I've got this rare bird,
it jus' bursts into flames. - It's a winner."
'E said. "We'd a turkey like that, the Christmas jus' passed,
so we 'ad to 'ave Spam for us dinner."

So 'e give it a test, 'e said. "Wow! I'm impressed,
it'll save us a fortune on coal.
But the boiler room blokes'll go for me throat,
when I tell 'em they're back on the dole."

So it turned out quite well, as I'm sure you can tell,
an' t' Phoenix were chuffed with 'is plight.
The Crem' saved a few bob, an' give Nancy a job,
with an 'osepipe, - - case the place caught alight

© Stan Brown and Gary Hogg. (Illustration By Gary Hogg).

She were a conductress were Connie from jus' down our backs,
which I think's a bit bloody frightenin'.
Cos when I say a conductress, I don't mean on a bus,
I mean the sort that gets clattered by lightning.

Ye see it's summat to do wi' these magnetic storms,
which most folks would give a wide berth.
But not Connie Gray, she keeps getting' in't way,
an' attracting th'electric to earth.

Now it happens so often that she don't bat an eye,
"Water off a duck's back," lass'd say.
Well, I don't know about ducks, but last time she were struck,
she walked wi' a waddle t'next day. 

T'were a lot bigger'n  before, and it left her quite sore,
an' she felt a bit down in the mouth. 
She were all magnetised, you could tell by 'er eyes,
cos one pointed North, t'other South.

Now me? I'd be scared, but she were prepared,
and she 'ad a quick ratch in 'er bag.
An' fished out these forty watt light bulbs,
that she kept with her aspirins and fags.

Now I know it sounds daft, but what worked in the past,
was a light bulb screwed into her gob.
Then she'd plug one right snug, into each of her lugs,
and she'd dis-charge herself, just the job.

It were normally quite quick, the dischargin' bit,
but this time it took mos' the night.
She'd to get out o' bed, an' go walkin' instead,
cos she jus' couldn't sleep for the light.   

It had gone three o'clock, she were half way round t'block,
when t'park gates suddenly gave a loud crack.
Cos they found her allurin' and broke from their moorin's,
and come flying, and stuck to her back,

She'd suddenly become quite attractive you see,
trouble is, it were only to metal.
And t'night watchman, poor soul were just mindin' 'is 'ole,
when off flew his brazier and kettle. 

He nearly swallowed his teeth, he shouts. "Hey, you. Stop, thief!
I need that for makin' me brews!" 
Then some grids by his side just started to slide,
and so did he, cos o't toecaps in't shoes.

The knocker up bloke, that's Big Norman Stokes,
were on his bike when he lost all control.
An' 'e ploughed into Connie, the gates an' all that,
she sez. "Watch where yer shovin' yer pole!"

She sez. "Will you get off?" 'E said "I can't," she sez. "What?
C'mon an' stop actin' the goat."
But her right fist were attracted to a brace on his teeth,
an' she knocked four or five down his throat. 

Well it looked a right sight in the middle o't night,
Connie, Big Norm an' his bike.
The night-watchman, his grids and a few dustbin lids,
a red hot brazier, a kettle and t'like.

Face to face the three stood, wi' big Norm spitting blood,
and making a gurgling sound.
But if that weren't enough along come Bill Clough,
the milkman just starting his round. 

He were still half asleep, in a dream so t' speak,
when he spotted Connie, the gates, and the blokes.
He rubbed his eyes to see clearer, as he watched them slide nearer,
and stick to the side of his float.

He sez. "Get off me truck." She sez, "I can't cos we're stuck,
magnetic like." He says. "What?" She says. "Aye."
Then without any warning, they were joined by an awning,
that had flew off the café nearby.

It were a bit o' good luck, that Connie had ducked,
Managed to hang onto the battery on't float.
There were loads of blue sparks, and they all fell apart,
and landed in a thick cloud of smoke.

Norm sez. "That's a relief, tho I've lost half me teeth,
and me bike and me poles all askew.
But the night-watchman bloke gave his brazier a poke,
an' made all his new pals a nice brew.

It were later that day that poor Connie Gray,
explained to the Doc, best she could.
"Flippin' lightning," she said. "Just goes straight t' me head."
"It's too much iron," he sez, "in your blood."

She says. "Do you think, it's the Guinness I drink?
I just have about six, watching telly."
He says. "Here's what we'll do, try to cut down to two,
and I'll get you some National Health wellies."

© Gary Hogg & Stan Brown. (Illustrations By Gary Hogg).

Now the Sidebottoms, Ethel an' Charlie,
lived just at the end of our street.
Right clever an' posh the pair of 'em were,
wore shoes an' not clogs on their feet.

'E'd got a good job 'ad their Charlie,
jus' sat sittin' down at a desk.
While Ethel 'is wife she didn't do much,
jus' made sure 'e'd got on a clean vest.

She didn't even do that if the truth's t' be told,
she didn't do bugger all, lazy mare.
'cept making sure that she spent Charlie's wages,
an' drivin' t' poor lad t' despair

They'd a woman for t' washin' an' th'ironin',
an' another for blackin' the grate,
An' one that came in t' polish an' dust,
an' maybe jus' peel the odd grape.

Now Charlie weren't allowed in the parlour,
she sez he might muck the place up.
He'd the 'all an' the landin', the bog and 'is bed,
an' the kitchen if he 'ad to wash up."

When 'e told me, I sez "Yer kiddin'?"
"No, she's a right fussy bugger," 'e said.
"Why only las' week she 'ad me wipin' me feet,
without socks before I got into bed." 

"I wouldn't mind it," 'e said, "if she worked 'ard 'erself,
but she just sits there like, all 'igh an' mighty.
Spread out on t' settee with a big box o' chocs,
an' there's some days she's still in her nightie."

Now there's only so much that Charlie could stand,
an' a bright idea it come into 'is 'ead.
So now he's hardly in there t' dirty the place,
cos 'e went out and bought 'im a shed.

'E's put it right at the far end o' garden,
backin' on t' the folks o'er t'back.
An' 'e's up there most nights with 'is slippers and pipe,
the wireless, a flask an' a snack.

Now you might think it's co-incidental,
but Peg o'er' t' back's in't same boat.
If she ever sets foot in 'er parlour,
'er Fred nearly goes for 'er throat.

Cos 'e's sat in peaked cap with a whistle,
an' 'is train-set's laid out on the floor.
So she 'as to sit in t' back kitchen,
an' pass 'is dinner through an 'atch in the door.

So one day when she was 'anging out t' washing,
she saw Charlie out paintin' 'is shed.
An' the two of em just sort o' got talkin',
an' she told 'im about 'er 'usband, Fred.

So 'e let on to 'er about Ethel, n'that,
they'd so much in common, they 'ad.
That they talked for an 'our, it might've been three,
she thought Charlie were such a nice lad.

An' Charlie thought she was a bit of allright,
an' 'e invited 'er in for a brew.
She said. "Eeh, this is right nice an' cosy,"
so she went out and bought a shed too.

Now there's two sheds back-to-back stood there 'elpin',
t' restore Charlie and Peg's self-esteem.
It's where Peg takes 'er knittin' an' Charlie's sits sittin',
quite innocent or so it might seem.

But there's a connecting door o' which folks don't know,
an' now Charlie and Peg are an item.
Sat there every night cuddling up nice an' tight,
while Fred plays trains ad-infinitum.

An' While Ethel, oblivious, sits with 'er Milk Tray,
indulging 'er unsociable 'abits.
'Er Charlie an' Peg are up in their sheds,
an' the two of 'em are at it like rabbits!

© Gary Hogg & Stan Brown (Illustrations By Gary Hogg).

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