What the Fox Saw (Short Story)

`Oops, oops, yep there he goes, fat Gipin has bounced off his old knackered nag.`

 `Wish the bastard had come off earlier and I would not be breathing out of my arse.`

 `Look at him... look, fat shite that he is, dressed up in that red riding tunic looking like a fucking post box that’s been missed on collection day by the mailman.`

 `Hey Gilpin - who ate all the pies, who ate all the pies, you fat bastard you fat bastard who ate all the pies?`

`O this is getting better and better he’s landed in cow's shit.`

`Look! He’s totally covered in freshly shat cud.`

`And what about that sun ripened plough horse of his?`

`Fucker should be hanging in a boucheries chevalines not riding half way across the English countryside chasing after me.`

`So much for four legs good and two legs bad eh, you burnt out old scrag.`

`This crap has gone on for weeks and weeks now.`

`I just get my head down after a nice juicy bantam or two and then that fucking hunting horn starts blasting in my ears.`

` I would love to grab the thing from him and ram it right up his arsehole, see how much toodleing he would manage then?`

`Anyway better head the rest of the hooray Henry’s will be here any second now.` 

`See you Gilpin, watch the saddle doesn’t hit you on the arse as you get up.`