Wednesday, June 02, 2010

by Martin Newell (The Independent)

And so after a week's run of plastering work in Sparta
Priam's boy, Paris, got in a sesh with the guv, Menelaus
And, with her consent, copped off with his bird, Helen.
Well tasty. Long hair. Lovely face. Legs up to her neck.
They got a smash & grab back to his and ... say n'more.
Menelaus's bruv, Agamemnon, got well humpty over this,
It being considered that Paris may have had a rep'n'that
But this was pissing in the Stella and calling it "tops".
Agamemnon now had to get a crew up to get it sorted.
Words were had about it in some of the livelier drinkers
And some mushes who were a bit handy got on board.
After a lot of giving it all that, they went on the mission.
A fleet of Escorts. Tooled up. Everyone in good order.
They was barely out of the motors before it kicked off
But if the parking had been a nightmare, it was nothing
Compared to the door policy at The Troy, mate.
Even Achilles, their top boy, after nine years of it
Seemed to be flagging. This weren't just a smart/casual.
And The Troy was no wendy-house. Far from it, geezer.
Hector, the head monkey on the door, was a right yahoo.
Totally lost it and threatened to torch all their motors.
Achilles said he definitely wasn't having any of that,
Got stuck into the ruck and put Hector out of business.
That put the Trojans off their nosebag, for starters, but
Then Achilles went down. It looked like it was all over
But they steamed The Troy anyway. Done the bouncers.
Left the place torched. But not really a result. As such.
Not if it took ten years. The trip home was bloody rubbish.
Rowing among theirselves all the way. Weather was crap.
And Helen? What can you say? Can't live with 'em ...

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