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poohb wrote:He left the bistro
At a quarter from four,
But the lightning did flash
And the raid it did pour.
The library was near
So he scampered inside.
A place from the storm
And the thunder to hide.
Now reading was something
The Gloob never did.
He'd been turned against it
When only a kid.
But he picked up a book,
The first one in an age.
He parked his plump bum
And turned the first page.
The library was closing
At thirty past nine,
But the Gloob was still there
Reading line after line.
He couldn't believe it.
So entertaining!
He'd lost track of time
And forgot it was raining.
Tonyblack wrote:Looks like a blue pen to me.![]()
How come I missed that? I'm normally pretty good at spotting other people's spelling mistakes.
I'm crap at spotting my own though.
poohbcarrot wrote:I couldn't think of a 2 syllable word for an eaterie apart from bistro. As the strange dishes are a running gag, he had to eat somewhere.
MattK wrote:Uh... Cafe? Deli? Diner? Lunchroom? Pit stop? Snack bar? Soup house? Tea room? Hash house?
poohbcarrot wrote:I'm sure there are plenty of prawn sarnie cafes in Manchester, but I'm not from the South.
poohbcarrot wrote:Sheesh!I don't know! I only was injecting a bit of economic reality into the story. How does Noddy pay for the petrol for his car?
He doesn't need to raise any more cash, because he makes enough from selling his fruit and veg.![]()
So there!!
The next chapter is called "BOOKS".
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