I used to hav a frend called “the walrus” who was famus in the streets between the A3 an the mud tunnel next to ASDA beacus he was always very very dizzy, an also because he had more plastic bags than any other person tha i knew of. he had so many tha he cud put them up into a a BIG pile an use it as a VERY smal bed. i tried to sleep on it once but the whol time yuo tried to move it suonded lik you wer in a gravel-trap an also “the walrus” was quite big an hard to push off u after he had had drunk his nightim cup of bleeeach an water.
one day wen we were tryin to catch rat-frogs under a bridg he said to me “yuo kno yugnich, i got everything – i famous. i got more plastic bags than anyone i kno” (then he fell over quick cos he was very very dizzy) “but i stil don thik tha i so happy abuot thins”
i lauged cos i knew tha it was jus cos he was hangin out with me and if yuo always lookin at someone who cool an who muscly and who can grow any sort of beeard (braided, solepatsh, chin, oneside, corn rows, bleached) then of course you not gonna be happy. no matter how many plastic bags you got. but i didn say tha cos i knew he wud be sad and drink a whole new cup tha was mostly bleach an not very much water.
insteead i said – “i will take yuo to a fancy place and tha will cheer you up.” i hadnt gone to a restraunt for a while because last time i went my small hairy frend Richard ‘Drickens’ Dawkins said got scared cos he brought sumthing back from the deepweb and had to go home early. i was also a bit scared but i realisd tha cos he was small an cos he didnt kno abuot thins an only liked to listen to his own beatboxing (even tho mine or even Troy’s (!!!) was better) he was always gonna be scared of the deep web. i will nevr be scared of the deep web or of anythin except from mayb very murky swimming pools an lions with machine guns strapped their moutsh an getting old (LOL!)
so me an “the walrus” got onto his trike an pedalled all the way to a restraunt called Myfields wich was opened by a chef fella cos he was always gettin kicked out of other peeopls gardesn for trying to eat their trees. he was reeal angry an jus wanted to scoff down sum good grub so he found a old sauna an said “this is a gud plac for a restrant” an then he called it myfields cos it was his field (evn tho it actualy jus a old sauna an it tiny an ther no grass or anythin).
me an “the walrus” came in an put down all of “the walrus”s plastic bags into a corner which took about 10 minutes cos they kept blowin evrywher an sum fella in the restrant kept tryin to stop us from doin it an sayin “you can put all of those bags in here – where did they come from? do you a reservation? why wont u say anythin to me? wher is tha smell of bleeach comin from?” wen we FINALLy managed to stuff the bags into the drains an plug sockets and corners an thins (there not many places to stuff bags – BTW) so that they wouldn go away we sat down at one of the tiny tables an said “grub me up!!!” wich everyone thought was HILARIOUs.
the fella who was stil cryin about tha he didnt have as many bags as “the walrus” cam an bruoght sum wine an sum food wich was a bit of old fish wich had some fishy gravel lumps with it and also had a soup of blackjacks on it. it was gross but i scoffed it down pretty quick cos i was intrested to look cool. “the walrus” had sum milk lump with syrup an he said he liked it.
then when we finished scoffin our grub i said “hey walrus. why do you can be called “the walrus”?” an he said “no one calls me the walrus” an i laughed an punched him full into the middle of his face. then he laughed too an then we both laughed an then the crying fella said “you ar goin to have to move your bags. also the bleach smell is upsettin everyone.” then i said “if your name not “the walrus” what is your name?”
an then “the walrus” said “my name is niall horan from one direction” an i said “the walrus is a much better name” an then the crying fella said “i threw your bags away” an then “niall horan from one direction” said “oh. thats sad.”
I give myfields 37/56