Back and Len and Bert’s house at number 23 Cherry Bakewell Avenue, Len was sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. Bert was putting the kettle on.
The newspaper said that Madame Rosalita (the cow) was staying at the East Finchley Hilton the night before the auction. A devious plan was forming in Len’s head.
“Would you like some corned beef, Len?”
“No thank you – have we got any spaghetti hoops?”
“No, we’ve just got corned beef.”
“I don’t like corned beef – I like spaghetti hoops!”
“But we haven’t got any!”
“Why not – I put them on the list didn’t I??”
“I didn’t have enough money for corned beef and spaghetti hoops – and I like corned beef so…”
“Just forget it!! This is more important!! Now sit down and I’ll explain the plan!”
“Ok… I’ll just pour the tea.”
Bert poured the tea into two chipped mugs, placed a mug in front of Len and sat down across from him.
“Ok.. listen up. ” Len said, “here’s the plan… ” He unrolled a map of East Finchley and held stopped in unrolling using a salt shaker and a bottle of ketchup. He then took a sip of his tea. “The way I see it is… Hang on, there’s no milk in this tea…”
“We don’t have any milk… The milkmans not been yet.”
“What are you talking about the milkmans not been yet… It’s half passed 5 in the afternoon!!”
“I know, but he still hasn’t been.”
“I’m going to have words with him when I see him.”
Len took another sip of tea and continued with his plan…
“This is what we’re going to do. Get plenty of rest in the next couple of hours, Bert because it’s going to be a long long night…”