So Trin says 'What d'you want to eat darling Spring?' so I says 'summfink chav,' so she says 'McDonalds?' so I says 'No, that's too chav', so she says 'Pizza Hut,' and I says 'Yeah'.
So we hit Frome Pizza Hut and I go for the 24" lentil feast with extra lentils and houmus, and she goes for the 6" chicken offal supreme on a bed of baby ducks with a grown-up duck side salad and fizzy duck juice.
We're sitting there minding our own business, poking fun at some christians, when a few Asba boys come in with their hoodies done up to the top toggle, trousers hanging round their knees showing little pink G-strings (Trin looked) and wearing baseball caps over the TOP of the hoodies with 'We dont [sic] need no uniform' written on and they sit down next to us.
'You're a bunch of wankers,' I said conversationally, 'aren't you?'
'I was just remarking what a bunch of chav wankers you are in your little duffle coats. Been out trainspotting have you?'
'Er, yeah. What's it to you grandad?'
Trin kicks me under the table and grins.
'Just saying,' I laughed. 'Just being polite'.
'Did you call my boyfriend a grandad?' Trin roars as she pops the most delicate little garlic beak in her mouth.
'Yeah, wanna make summfink of it missus?'
As it happened Trin did, and beat the lads into a pulp without even getting up off her chair. She even had one kid's intestines out and was swinging them around her head like Rod Stewart in his prime (1946).
The salad bar was very good too, fresh and crispy, with just the right amount in a bowl to complement the pizza.
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