A Shooter and a Young Maid's Generosity, Apparently

I walked into my local cafe in Dalston. Three workmen sat inside, near the counter, waiting for their breakfasts to be delivered. They were covered in plaster and white paint from their early start. I ordered my full English breakfast at the counter and then chose a table near the men so that I could hear their conversation. The eldest - clearly their leader - a sun-bronzed Cockney with a deeply-lined face, seemed to be doing all the talking: the other two nodding along and occasionally offering a 'Yep' or 'Nah' in response.
  "By the time I got there it woz goin' off! An this Jamaican bloke 'e's got 'is gun aht an' 'e's wavin' it in me fahkin' face. I juss' wen' over and grabbed 'is fahkin' arm an' bent it back, like THIS ...", At this he point he leant over the table and demonstrated his arm-bending, shooter-disabling technique on the arm of the youngest plasterer, who had offered his splattered arm in compliance.
   "So, 'e's dropped 'is gun, an' then I slammed 'im over the bonnet of 'is fahkin' car. Bosh!" The men's breakfast arrived at this point.
   "Lahvley!" said the man as his plate was set down before him, "That'll hit the spot!" They set about eating and for a while the only sound was the smacking of lips and the mastication of beans and toast. And then the man started up again,
   "Oh 'at's right, I didn't finish tellin' you about that bird the uvver night, did I?" The others shook their plaster-covered heads as he continued,
   "So anyway, this bird's been after me for fahkin' weeks and finally, finally, finally, I took the plunge an' ended up goin' back to 'er's on Satdee. But the fing is, right, I never 'ad any condoms did I? So she sez to me: You'll juss 'av to 'av me up the Ariss instead. So I did. I mean wot choice did I 'av?"


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