1st Yokel: The sun, as visiting landowner on a foreign demesne, rather than an accustomed landlord, glimpses his smiling visage over the fair Vale of Beaker.
2nd Yokel: Fair mornings mek for death by nammit-time, I'll warrant it.
1st Yokel: Shall we take out the convertible for a drive on this fine morning?
2nd Yokel: Convertible's not been out sin Lammas. Dree months afore we even give it a clean, if you ask me.
1st Yokel: Still, lambing-time is nigh upon us.
2nd Yokel: Yes, and the deaths of ewes and sleepless nights that they shall bring us! We shan't hae a day off this side of Beltane or my name's not Norman.
1st Yokel: With thy face so unsmiling and eyes so hollow-cheeked, why didst get up at all this forenoon?
2nd Yoke: Wife threw me out. Turns out she was secretly married to the Lord of the Manor twelve long years ago, and my bairns are his, and the cottage is his, and I've till Candlemas to find a new job and who's looking for council environmental planners with this government in charge?
1st Yokel: And so the Lord of the Immortals had his laugh, and the Council Environmental Planner had to dwell like a gipsy around the environs of his former estate. And the Lord of the Manor was revenged.
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