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Post by Ricky T Outhouse on Nov 12, 2010 14:25:59 GMT
the poor U69 decides that it has suffered enough humiliation and begins a process of submarine suicide. This once-proud denizen of the deep, this steel sea-stallion once proud and eager to engage the might of his Majesty's floatabouts, this speedy sub-aqua weed chopper, geared as it was to carry as crew the cream of the Kriegsmarine finally had ein gutvoll of the collection of Aryan burpers, varters and bumscratchers and she decided to use the high C's (as opposed to the high seas) of the Celtic warbler as an excuse to disassemble itself in the hope it could make a living for itself as a template for a future Airfix model. Thus, its steel plates began to peel away, its conning tower began to lose the plot and the once proud diesels transmogrified into Manchester tram engines. 'Abandon ship!' screamed Kapitan Willi, 'or ve vill all end up as skvoshed sea sausages!' At that, the whole crew, unaware as they were of the Condem plan to move society back to a Victorian workhouse model,rushed to join the queue outside the locked gates of the Labour exchange in the hope of some jobseekers allowance, only to find limited employment opportunities for men skilled in the destruction of the British Merchant fleet (largely because we no longer have one). Dejected, they all trooped off to
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