And The Stars Won't Mind


What’s The Name Of That Fruit?

 

“Errr... we had a good time last night: went for a pub-meal,” old Harry suddenly announced. “Err… nice place… all done out with lights and a patterned carpet… chairs were lovely and soft. Smashing young waitress served us.”

 

“Oh, aye,” replied old Bert. “That sounds like a bit of alright. What was it all about?”

“Errr... just a night out. I had steak and chips with mushrooms and gravy; the missus had scampi and mash with peas. Err… she can’t chew the meat too well, these days: scampi was nice and soft for her. Went down a treat. I had two halves of Bitter… that was my limit… on account of needing the toilet.”

 

“Oh, aye. I like a nice drop of Bitter. Where’s this pub then?”

 

“Errr... up towards town… can’t remember where… just passed the wotsaname. I think it was four bus stops.”

“Oh, aye. Not too far then. What was the pub called?”

“Errr... just let me think… it was… err… something to do with… err… it was… errr… no, can’t remember.”

“Oh, aye. Try to remember, Harry. Did it sound similar to something else?”

“Errr… it’ll come to me in a minute… err… let me think now… what’s the name of that fruit? You know the one I mean… nice taste… nice and soft… nice colour… you see them all over the place.”

“Oh, aye. You must mean a banana.”

“Errr… no, not a banana… I don’t think it’s one of them… it’s not yellow.”

“Oh, aye. Are you talking about a pear?”

“Errr... no, not a pear… let me think for a bit… it’s more of a round shape.”

“Oh, aye. If it’s a round shape, then it must be an apple.”

 

“Errr… no, not an apple… not as big as that… smaller than an apple.”

“Oh, aye. Something smaller? Is it a prune?”

 

“Errr… no, not a prune… gave me the runs, they did… nicer taste than a prune.”

 

“Oh, aye. Do you mean a grape?”

“Errr... not a grape… I think it’s got a stone in it.”

“Oh, aye. A stone? Is it a cherry, Harry?”

 

“Errr… that’s it! A cherry! That’s the one I was thinking of.”

 

“Oh, aye. Isn’t that the name of your…” old Bert began.

Old Harry had walked out of the room, into the hallway and was calling upstairs, “Cherry! What’s the name of that pub we went to last night?”

 

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