The Talking Horses Best Seller!

"Seu, mah dear 'Astings," interjected Hercules Poirot, who had decided to stop off here en route to his next murder inquiry, "What deu yeu mek ov zees?"
 
Hastings caressed his chin delicately, then stroked his own in a more manly manner, before musing, "D'you know what, Poirot, old fruit - every now and then we seem to slip into some alternative universe, where people seem to be sane, but actually are stark, raving bonkers - look around you here, and you'll see what I mean - there's someone peeling off a body suit and someone in love with a horse, and a horse on its third double vodka, and - I say, Poirot - who IS that absolutely spiffing gel over there?"
 
"Oh christ," muttered some eavesdropng passerby, " it's Venetia Williams and look what she's doing with that massive...
 
a sinister figure who bore a striking resemblance to a feminine, blond version of Dick Van Dyke....of course, it was Jamie Spencer! Could it be that he was about to...
 
Venetia was clearly bored by all this small talk especially when Jamie then produced from his pocket a ................
 
Thommo visibly stiffened (more than normal) only because drugs aren't his thing . He tries to distract Ms Williams before confiscating her blow . Ha Ha Ha Ha he says
 
in a high falsetto tone, mainly because Venetia has his privates held firmly in one hand, while sparking up with the other.
 
"Isn't this wonderful " he says " And isn't it a lovely day to get pinched . Fantastic guys. Come on down"
 
Jamie leant over and quietly withdrew Venetia's vice-like grip on the grinning Tommo, whispering, "Ah, sure, Venetia, will you be letting me have a go, now? There's a thousand folk out there will thank me for getting rid of this eejit."
 
this have anything to do with perhaps the reins slipping easily through your fingers when you were based in Ireland or........
 
... have you and Ems been playing around with the baby cream again?" Venetia breathed, as Tommo slumped to the floor, and was immediately bitten by Harchibald, who after five pints was in his usual fight-picking mood.
 
Suddenly, Mary Revely, her blushes now spared by three charred veggie burgers and her singed copy of the Yorkshire Post, reappeared, nodding her head and muttering ...
 
Everyone stopped that they were doing and looked round, and there was Clare with her tongue protruded from her mouth at a strange angle probably because....
 
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