Shorn whatshishname (well - unshorn actually) came into the Mustard Seed on Thursday.
"Fantashtic - Finally, a shpecialisht moushtache shop! Are you the shop ashishtant? I'm shearching for a shpoon that shtops me shlurping. I'm shick of shucking shoup through a shtraw" .
Blank incomprehension on part of aforesaid Shop Assistant. Bottom jaw hits floor.
"Thatsh what I call a shtunned shilensh" - Shorn added helpfully. " You are a shpecialisht moushtache shop aren't you? The shine outshide the shop sheysh sho" .
And sure enough - when they both went outside - there it was. For all the moustachioed men (and women) of the world to see.
"Aye - a shame the party shop up Coxshwell Shtreet shut. Shimone had lotsha tash shtuff. Sho itsh shplendid to shee you ashimilating the shlack and shticking the tash shtock on the shelvesh. MUSHTASHED. Like it. Shuper shine for a shop. "
Then came the Eureka moment. Aforesaid Shop Assistant saw and seized her opportunity.
"Yes absolutely, Shorn" she said, ushering him back inside. "We've got a special soup slurper that'll keep your tash tip-top".
Well - to cut a long story short, Shorn ended up very happy with his:
....looking for curling tongs. He went away with
And the man-eating spider fattening up the OAP
took the delicious
Not sure why.
was perfect for sticking this back on
was prone to bumping into things, but gratefully settled on the
"I have to feed my Hairy Flavour Savour" - he said conspiratorially.
This young lady (you wouldn't think it would you?) unfortunately wasn't able to negotiate the shop entrance door
but still bought two bottles of the special moustache oil:
By now, Shorn was also helping with all the connery, and had even taken a shine to the aforesaid Shop Assistant.
"What'sh your name shweetie?" he said.
"It's Shandy Shaunders" she replied.
"You're taking the pish - you mean Sandy Saunders surely? "