Jeremy, an electrician from Watford England, was making sweet passionate love to the square segment of pavement on Hammersmith Rd, three pavement squares down from where someone named ‘Bruno’ had previously carved his name in the wet cement.
Don’t get me wrong.
Jeremy was making love to the cement.
But he wasn’t actually in love with it.
You see moments before he had tripped on an exposed tree root and fallen down.
And so obviously he had immediately scrambled for some form of an excuse as to suggest that he had WANTED to be down there all along.
I mean he didn’t want to look like some sort of fool!
And fortunately for him his cover was completely bought by all that saw.
Including Mr Johan in 7b, who claimed he wasn’t watching, but in reality was ALWAYS watching!
Still, while Jeremy may not have been in love when he began, feelings did start to emerge during.
And over the next few weeks, before the root had been cleared, a genuine love developed.
It would have been sweet, and romantic, and beautiful.
Had the kissing not completely crunched, scraped, chipped and ultimately annihilated his teeth.
Still, it worked out well for his dentist.
A man named Bruno.
In fact that tree root had turned out to engender a better client windfall than the entirety of his last advertising campaign.
Which had unexpectedly and mockingly yielded far more council fines than clients.
Fucking council bureaucrat pieces of shit.
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