Let me introduce myself. I am Don Lemontop, the last member of the Teesside mafia. Most of the other lads are in Homefarm, Strangeways  or worse, off shore.

Our kid has asked me to move into his posh Oxfordshire house while he’s otherwise detained. Well, a 6 to 9 stretrch at her majesty’s if you know what I mean. As I’d ruffled a few feather in the Nunthorpe workies club (bunch of c**ts up there, want to pay next to nowt for top quality Vivian Eastwood knock off gear, probably all skint, all fur coat and no knickers up there), best if I lay low - for a while anyways like. “Nice one” I thought, saves me having to do the decorations at the Workies again. Nearly broke me leg last year trying to run a power line off that lampost. Who would have thought being the steward would have actually meant doing work.

I start unpacking and all of a sudden these bloody camp git strolls up with some bloke with ears like  the FA Cup in tow offering me a battenberg and a welcome. Brilliant. Just what I need. A couple of chutney ferrets. Not that I’ve got owt against em like, well not since Aunty Kevins operation in Bangkok.

Anyway camp & camper have invited me to some sort of Neighbourhood watch think. “Thats what we call dogging where I come from like” I told them. The can think again if they want to peep through my curtains. Still our Tony left some knock off stuff in the garage. Maybe I can try to shift it there, you know with Christmas coming up. Mind you if one of them mentions the meat draw I’ll put me fist down his throat, go windmilling in.

So I turn up and the FA Cup opens the door - he smells better than the last time I saw him. I only took a small sample of my “wares” as I don’t know how these posh types work. Anyroad the host was threatening to roast me so I told him exactly where I would stick the chair leg if he said it again. He smiled. Effin Weirdo. I offered the Cup lookalike  some knock off After Shave “Bosh”, he was tempted but was soon told to put it down. He said he’d see me later about it - nice one may get a bit of business round here after all. Then nightmare, turn round and the jug with the wine in (though whats wrong with a pint of carling is beyond me) went flying all over some knock off rug (I hope it was knock off). Claret everywhere. Thought I should make my excuses and leave at this stage. There was an old foreign bloke trying to get into the knickers of a 120 year old woman and it was freaking me out. It was like Grab a Granny night in Yaem highstreet.

As I was leaving, I kept hearing the camp get mentioning “Grass” to the Cup. I’ll have to keep my eye on this one - I can’t stand a grass. On the bright side it should be easy to take over this estate. Still can’t wait to get back up north like.

Be lucky

Don