A night in the museum

Already bilious and impatient by nature, Mrs Kray optimised her ill humour and indigestion through an indelicate balance of blood sausage and bloody marys. Never happier than when she was miserable, she huffed and grunted a path through the museum, vexating oaths at both children and the elderly.

At the behest of her boss she had been loitering around the Elgin Marbles for the past few months, vainly attempting to calculate how many wheelbarrows she would need to relocate said artefacts but losing count at each spicy belch or whenever she ran out of fingers.

Keeping a watchful eye was her self-appointed superior – Mrs Patrician – a grim-faced doom-bringer with a yen for shooting animals outside kindergartens and basking in the infants’ trauma. By way of encouragement, she chivvied her servant with steel-capped kicks up the backside and the odd swat of birch when less inclined to exert herself.

On behalf of the double-act, Mrs Patrician impolitely declined to join our crew, suggesting that while terra firma remained home to so much loot in need of repatriation, the prospect of sharing cramped, briny and dank quarters with several dozen stinking brigands, though exceedingly appealing on paper, simply made no business sense.

Marksma’am
Mrs Patrician
Likes: Jimmy Nail

Dislikes: Jimmy Carter

West End Girls

Oh, London Town's a fine town, and London sights are rare, and London’s scum is busy scum, and festers everywhere.

For the truly wicked, of course, there’s no peace, and while the mates indulged themselves with golf sales and penny operettas, it was business as usual for Captain Yours Truly – after all, bands of merrie mariners don’t just grow themselves.

But London crooks are cunning crooks with gallant plans to hatch, and bonnily clink your pockets there, with all that gold to snatch.

Indeed, with such rich pickings on dry land, would these vice-mongers even consider a life on the ocean waves?

Busily goes the London world, and craftily grows the mind, and at every turn in London Town, vile brigands one will find.

But chance favours the prepared: using elementary physics can improve the odds of locating likely seadogs yet further, for as mass dictates gravitational pull, so buccanerial clustering depends on booty magnitude.

For London’s swag is rare swag, and property of our Queen, and London’s plunder is out on show and waiting to be seen.

Ah yes, where greater a loot-yard than the British Museum, and who better to start with than Ronnie Kray (Mrs; no relation)?

Qualified Member of the Engine Department

Ronnie Kray
Likes: hanging, drawing and quartering
Dislikes: Magic FM