Quote Originally Posted by MojoCrow View Post
Ahh, yes. I remember your thing with the rat like it was only yesterday......

Richard: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The Marshal does not respond.)
Richard: 'Ello, Miss?
Marshal: What do you mean "miss"?
Richard: I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
Marshal: I’m off for a burger.
Richard: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this rat what I shot at not one minute ago from this very peg.
Marshal: Oh yes, the, uh, the Rat on a raft...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
Richard: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's not going over and I was on for a 60, that's what's wrong with it!
Marshal: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
Richard: Look, matey, I know a dodgy target when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.
Marshal: No no he's not dodgy, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable rat target, the Nockover model, isn't it, ay? Beautiful target placement!
Richard: The beauty of the target placement don't enter into it. It's stone dead dodgy.
Marshal: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!
Richard: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up! (shouting at the rat) 'Ello, Mister Roland Rat! I've got a lovely fresh pellet for you if you show...
(Marshal pulls the string)
Marshal: There, he moved!
Richard: No, he didn't, that was you pulling the string!
Marshal: I never!!
Richard: Yes, you did!
Marshal: I never, never did anything...
Richard: (yelling and throwing pellets repeatedly) 'ELLO RATTY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Storms over to the rat target and pokes it with a great big lump of a stick.)
Richard: Now that's what I call a dodgy target.
Marshal: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
Richard: STUNNED?!?
Marshal: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was gonna fall down! Nockover rat targets stun easily, major.
Richard: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this. That rat is definitely dodgy, and when I shot it not one minute ago, I was on for a 60 and that plague ridden lump of scrap metal has robbed me of it.
Marshal: Well, I, uh, saw a splash. You sure you hit him?
Richard: SPLASH?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that? Look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment someone else shoots him?
Marshal: The Nockover target prefers a clean hit to the kill zone. Splittin’ a pellet’s no good. Remarkable design the Nockover target, isn't it, squire? Lovely quality!
Richard: Look, I took the liberty of examining that rat when I poked it, and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on that raft in the first place was that it had been screwed in place.
(pause)
Marshal: So?.....Well, o'course it was screwed there! If we hadn't screwed that rat down, the first decent shooter would’ve blown it off the raft and into the briney.
Richard: "DECENT SHOOTER"?!? Mate, I don’t like what you’re implying. I’ve shot that infernal rat before and he’s gone down.
Marshal: No no! That counts for nuffink. That was at another shoot. If you miss, you either splash or plate it. He’s a perfectly serviceable target.
Richard: 'E's not servicable! 'E's dodgy! He should be pulled! This rat should be no more! He should cease to be! E’ should be chucked in the bin! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! 'E’s imaginary metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down to the sewer and joined the choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-TARGET!!
(pause)
Marshal: Well, I'd better replace it, then........ Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shed, and uh, we're right out of targets.
Richard: I see. I see, I get the picture.
Richard: I got a slug.
(pause)
Richard: Pray, does it fall over when you shoot it in the kill zone?
Marshal: Nnnnot really. It’s a pellet.
Richard: WELL IT'S HARDLY A REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
Marshal: N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)
Richard: Well.
(pause)
Marshal: (quietly) D'you.... d'you want to come back to my place?
Richard: (looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.
Shooting Partner: I’ll put you down for a 59 then, shall I?


Your Mother was a hamster...