Billy’s Birthday Back on Track
A true story
It was Billy’s birthday and he was feeling miserable. Woman trouble! And we, his workmates, decided to do something about it. In our minds you fix woman trouble with a woman. A fattagram! Yes, we thought, a two ton Sheila shaking it about in the canteen, at lunchtime, would do the trick. But after many phone calls we found all the fatties had been fostered out. A strippagram! That’ll do nicely. We’ll never get away with it. We’re the electricians; we can get away with anything. The hat went round.
Come lunchtime the canteen was bulging. The biggest farting fitters were positioned at the canteen doorway. There’d be no foremen or managers spoiling this little celebration. The electricians table was nearest to the Christmas tree and the only empty seat left was at the head of the table. Billy had to sit there, which he did, thinking of nothing but the chips at which he squirted sauce. The nod was given. The stripper’s minder poked his finger at the ghetto-blaster. Shirley Bassey began to warble, and out she came. No, not Shirley, the stripper! We weren’t sure whether we should be disappointed or not; she had the tiniest tits but legs like an Olympic cyclist. Bloody hell, we thought. She’ll kill him!
Two-stepping over to the electricians table,
she hauled Billy from his chair and pas-de-deux’d him to a previously
positioned chair next to the Christmas tree. He sat bewildered and to the
cheers of his workmates she began to gyrate around him. Yes! The colour’s back
into his cheeks, we thought. Ripper! And by now we
could see the colour of her cheeks too as she swung from side to side, taunting
Billy in his bewilderment. As she did so, a room full of tradesmen’s tongues,
swung in unison, just like synchronized swimmers in a
She pummeled Billy with her posterior. Then spun around to face him, threw her leg over him like only a good Olympic cyclist could and began to ride him. Billy’s temperature soared dangerously as she ground herself into him and when she pulled his head into where her cleavage should have been but wasn’t, it was all too much. The chair gave way and both she and Billy fell into the Christmas tree. The crowd went wild!
The minder stabbed at the ghetto-blaster and Shirley shut up. We didn’t. The cheers were to behold as the stripper dragged Billy from under the pine needles, took him back to his chips, kissed him and wished him happy birthday. Money well spent, we thought, and a hearty meal enjoyed by all. Yes! Billy’s birthday was back on track.