The Worm Collector.

[piscatus absentis]

The scene is the public park in Downdieburgh.  A police car parks in a layby in nearby Timbertown.  A constable and constabless leave the car fully accoutred with stab-proof vests, truncheons, CS sprays, handcuffs etc. etc.  They approach a disreputable looking man armed with a lethal looking Old Holborn tobacco tin.

PC.  Good morning ? looking for something?.

Man.  Worms.

PC (Quizically) Worms?

Man. Aye ? worms.

PC  Do you like worms?

Man (Resisting the urge to say they're delicous fried with butter and garlic) Not particularly ? use them for fishing.

PC  And you collect worms here early in the morning?

Man  Aye ? it's the best time to find them.

PC (pointing)  There's one you missed.

Man.  No ? that's a bluehead ? I want pinkie tails.

At the mention of pinkie tails PCess giggles and blushes.  There's a sense that a sexual encounter of some kind has taken place recently.

PC  What's wrong with blueheads?

Man  Nothing ? they're OK in lochs but pinkie tails are better in burns.

PC  Do you live near here?

Man  No ? I live at the bottom of the town.

PC  No worms down there then?

Man  This is the best place for them.

PC  We've had complaints about you.  Tell me your name and address?

Man  Why?  Who complained?

PC  Just never mind ? name and address please?

Man supplies the details and PCess is seen talking into her radio.  She nods to PC.

PC  You'd be better  going home and finding somewhere else for your worms.

Man  What have I done wrong?

PC  Just get off home before we charge you.

Man  What with?

PC  What about cruelty to animals?  Worms have rights you know.

Man (sotto voce)  Bugger off.

PC   What?

Man  I just said I'll bugger off.

PC  And don't come back.

PC and PCess proceed to car and man buggers off.

[Traditionalist]

Heh heh..........very enjoyable! 

Further..............

Although the operation was difficult and protracted,
at last with complications the creatures were extracted,
some electrified some fiddled and in fact some soaped
and some at dark of night from wet grass cruelly groped.

Thus armed, our worthy ventured forth upon the morn,
ignoring cries of "baiter", and other signs of scorn,
the master sallied forth to catch a fish, undaunted,
and simply thumbed his nose , at those who taunted.

Arriving at the stream at last, he opened up his beer,
and chose a spot beneath a tree, "Hope there?s some damn fish here! "
impaling then a trophy worm upon an artful hook,
he cast the creature from him into the babbling brook.

A mighty trout of age unknown came to inspect the lure,
but then declined fastidiously saying "God these worms are poor"
"when I was young the worms were fresh, and tasted not of soap"
"and the water too was clearer then and there was cause for hope".

"Anglers were well mannered then and did not curse or drink,
and the water flowing past my home did not foam or stink,
the flies they were abundant and anglers were but rare,
and though they also fished with worms, at least they did it fair".

"How I long for the good old times, with mayflies sailing past,
and rising leisurely now and then to take my fine repast,
the good old times are gone I fear, at a most alarming rate,
and many of my comrades have fallen foul of power bait"

"Plastic worms and deerhair mice, and even chugging plugs,
I beat them all at last you see, even fine hooked freelined slugs,
I even triumphed over those who would even stoop so low,
as to bury vicious treble hooks in bags of salmon roe".

"When thinking back, it really is a wonder, that I am still alive,
but I often think it would be nice, if a few more could survive,
most of the trout I get to know, come in a hatchery truck,
and they really are quite stupid, and rarely have much luck".

"My habits now are rather set, and though quite safe I wish,
that I might eat safely something else, I am quite sick of fish.
A tasty worm or a juicy slug, would be a pleasant snack,
but an angler might well catch me then, and refrain to put me back".

"Oh I have been caught a couple of times, but that was long ago,
and it gave me an awful fright, but at least they let me go,
I fear today at my great size, once in the hand of man,
I would never see the stream again, but land up in the pan".

The worm meanwhile on hearing this was pretty much astounded,
and addressed the trout then loudly, who was then quite dumbfounded.
" I don't see why you should complain, your problems seem to pass,
but what the hell am I supposed to do with a hook stuck up my ass?"

"My life was fine till one dread day, by an angler I was found,
fiddled about, electrified and soaped, and very nearly drowned,
my brothers and my sisters were also very roughly caught,
and in a filthy rusty can to the stream here we were brought".

"Now here I sit uncomfortably, no chance for squirms or wiggles,
and you have the audacity to bore me with your stupid moans and niggles"
"Well" said the trout, "that is enough, from you I think my friend",
and snapped the worm up in his mouth, his honour to defend.

Our worthy on the bank then saw his bobber dipping in the brook,
and stumbling drunken to his feet, he heaved and set the hook.
The trout fought well and long, but alas at last was in the net,
our worthy celebrated with another beer, he is celebrating yet.

The moral of this story is of course quite plain to all who angle,
when you fish with worms make sure you choose the cheeky ones to dangle,
they upset the fish much more, and are eaten then for their presumption,
even though well soaped, electrified, and drowned, and unfit for consumption!

TL
MC

[superscot]

gents have to say nice one !

[garryh]

genius :lol: :lol: