One day, I too wish to be a person of quality able to grace such a stately pile.
Oh! To be one of the select few to enter into the inner sanctum of Scratchley Hall. To hob nob with the elite and kow tow with the grandees of Thornton Heath.
I bet they only use the finest of pork luncheon meat in their sandwiches, dainty slivers of processed meat tucked between the lightest, fluffiest Mother's Pride. Moistened with the merest hint of margarine, and not just any margarine mind, it has to be the best...
...Stork.
I bet they also cut the crusts off their sandwiches.
I wonder what they do with the crusts? I hope they don't feed them to the peasants. You know what peasants are like.
Look what happened to Marie Antoinette, She lost her head poor child.
Mind you she did use to shop at Asda.
Served her right, the slag.
