Quick Sixty
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Birds don't chirp. Who thought of such a thing? Warbling, cooing, even arguing with squawks, if they're herring gulls. But not chirping. New model cars when you lock them with one of those electronic keys. Some mobile phones. But not birds. Roy was a chirper. Right from when he was a baby. But then again, most crocodiles are.
Birds don't chirp. Who thought of such a thing? Warbling, cooing, even arguing with squawks, if they're herring gulls. But not chirping. New model cars when you lock them with one of those electronic keys. Some mobile phones. But not birds. Roy was a chirper. Right from when he was a baby. But then again, most crocodiles are.

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Roy sighed and explained but Winston was a croc with ideas. "No problem, Man. Why not make a video and stick it on YouTube?"
Winston shook his head sadly at the technical ineptitude of Roy and swam off to catch a wayward calf he'd spotted on the other side of the river.
'What the...' Winston gasped.
It turned out it wasn’t an alien spaceship, but a Tesco’s delivery van in its new futuristic livery promoting all its latest hi-tech grocery lines with the slogan, micro-CHIPS WITH EVERYTHING emblazoned on its side.
Mr Top-hat took one look an Winston and said:
Winston had been doing a bit of web shopping and was expecting a delivery.
“We didn’t have any of your order in stock and I can see we have made a mistake in bringing Irish Stew. Instead would you like this all new singing and dancing pickle jar?”
Roy looked up from the calf with interest.
Suddenly, the pickle jar began to sing. It sounded amazing. Could they win together?
Roy sighed and looked away across the river. He'd gone off the idea of eating Simon Cowell, and they'd come home. He knew it was because he'd fallen in love with the pickle. They had so much in common - right to their knobbly, olive coloured skins. Greeny looked at him.
‘Call me Croc.’
‘Gee, Mr – Gee Crock. What a big smile you have.’
‘All the better to eat you – greet you! All the better to greet you with. What’s your name, little Green One.’
‘People call me Greeny, but my real name is Gherkin.’
‘What, you’re called after a London skyscraper? Winston! You gotta hear this.’
His tail flicked in irritation and caught Greeny a swipe, sending him high into the air.
“Nooooo,” cried Roy
Roy put his head next to Winston's stomach. 'You all right in there?'
'I don't know. It's too dark to see myself.'
Turning to the computer that was still on the internet he quickly Googled, theatrical agents, pantomime, Peter Pan.
In 0.62 seconds he had 62,200 results to browse. Roy settled down to read.
Winston started to laugh. 'He's tickling me, the crazy pickle.'
'Roy.' Greeny tried again. 'There's something else in here with me. Something breathing.'
'Please be quiet. I can't sort this out with you shouting.' Simon's eyebrows were threatening to leave the top of his head. 'These crocodiles were meant to be the next big thing. A new boy band called "Snappy".
Greeny considered this. 'Wouldn't you need five of them?'
For gawd's sake, find me a musical avocado.
"What's your name,darling?" said Simon. "Avril,sir". "Well,Avril if you can get me out of this joint,I'll help get you into yours".
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