Let’s get outta this bleedin’ thing. Cor that’s better. Been in there all day. See, it all started with Harry and that incident. Now me and Harry, we go way back. I mean, we was spawn together, me and him. Used to go cruising the mud flats. Then…well, let’s just say Harry’s not too keen on me at the minute. I weren’t to know that was Harry’s missus, was I? ‘Er face looked like the backend of a jellyfish. ‘Course, no one rightly knows which end of a jellyfish is the back. Anyhow, Harry was after me blood. I never saw him like that before. Looked like he’d been jellied alive. I legged it (if you’ll pardon the expression) back to mine, sharpish.
Anyway, so I hears that Harry’s lookin’ for me, right? So I goes to Terry the Trout, see if he knows anywhere I can lie low for couple o’ days. He says, ‘I’ve got just the thing’. Pulls out this ‘costume’, he calls it. And I’m thinking, ol’ Terry’s lost it. Proper crackers. But he’s not kiddin’. ‘It’ll take the heat off, mate, Harry’ll never find you up there’, says Terry. So I get meself all snugly-tight in this man-suit, pop the ‘ead on top. Suddenly I got all these pink wobbly bits. Weird long fins, them human’s got. Their tails are split in two, an’ all. ‘One more thing,’ Terry tells me. ‘That ain’t technically a bloke. That’s a lady-suit.’
Well, I says, s’all same to me, Terry. I’m an eel, at the end of the day. He just shrugs, lets me ‘ave it for a share of me next catch.
I got a few looks, topside, don’t get me wrong. All them other ladies, turns out they cover up those wobbly bits. So I hid for a bit in this lovely rectangular pond. Some ol’ dear came out the box o’ bricks at the end, sat on the edge, all dainty-like. She had this little stretchy number on. I was thinkin’, I oughta get me one of those. Then she saw me. Started screamin’. Had to move on.
Bit later I’m havin’ a breather, back near the bank-side, warmin’ me scales and all that, when this geezer comes up. ‘Lost your clothes, love? Easy access,’ he says, grinnin’ all over his face. Well, I ask you! I drew meself up, looks him in the eye and says, I ain’t that sorta lady. D’you know what he does then? Only leans over and grabs one o’ me wobbly bits! Well I’ve ‘ad enough. I start makin’ for the water, I’d rather face ol’ Harry. Man starts chasin’ me, asks me if I fancy a dip! So I turn round and clock him one, right on the nose with one of my lady-fins. Then into the river I go. Didn’t see his expression but I betcha it was a goodun.
So ‘ere I am. Haven’t seen Harry yet. We’re ol’ pals. I’m sure we’ll make it up. Second thoughts, better hold onto to this lady-suit. Just in case.
