I'll be fine mate, as long as I've got a good bit of bitumen covering on me shed, and a few copies of Men Only... you'll not hear a peep out of me.
We are not stopping off at sheds.r.us. in our quest for glory. We have tablecloth heads to kill and boozers to pilage.
Well does it have to be 8? I'm not sure there's 8 lads on here who I'd trust not to bum me in the event that all women had disappeared. 1. Me - obviously, delegation officer... you boy, go there, you other boy, go with him... find something useful and report back to me. 2. Disco - for when the night falls, the camp fire is lit, the talk turns to films and he'd be able to reel off every line from every film ever made, verbatim, it'd be like having a tele. 3. Marcus - because we can't ever tire of somebody saying "If Cattermole clubbed that Rabbit to death with a spade, he'd have been sent off, but look that lad just did it and now everybody is clapping him". 4. Cardew - because he'd take care of our garden, make it look nice and fresh and play calming noises on his flute whilst we were all trying to sleep. 5. Billy - because, when we come across a rhinoceros, we won't have to worry about what to do with it, Billy will simply put a skirt on it and shag it into a coma. 6. V-Joe - because, close quarter combat, he'd be the man to have... besides which, he'll help me build my shed. 7. Gonads - because when we manage to find a plane and get the hell out of the warzone, he works for Virgin so he's about our best shot of a pilot. 8. Comm - because he'd never allow for the inside of our tank to look gay with all of Cardew's flowers, he'd make sure it had pictures of Sam Fox up and that way, we'd never lose sight of the mission, which would be to stop all the burkah people covering up the tits and fannies.
Hey, no drinking on the job, that's strictly for us. You'll have a warm pouch of shandy in your rat-pack.
Cardew can't come. Just because he's been declared not insane it doesn't mean release. He's getting transferred from Broadmoor to Frankland.
No problem Billy and Welder will sort it by 10 ish each day. I will stay behind to double check our latest supplies before our next mission.
It was all going well until you woke up with a hangover to him playing 3 blind mice, we ended up a man down, as he trudged off into the sunset, with 3 inches of flute hanging out of his arse... making a little hooot sound with every step he took towards the nearest medical station.
We are breaking him out. Someone has to take care of the celery plants or our communications bloke may suffet withdrawl symptoms.
