Bloomin’ Burahobbit

by Auntkimby & Lizmybit

Three stone trolls are forever fixed along the road.

Burt: ‘Twas your fault, Bill.
Bill: It were not. Twas that bloomin’ burahobbit.
Burt: Aw, g’won. You were the one who kept yammerin’ at that grey stranger.
Tom: Ah, shaddup, both of you.
Bill: I still say it were that bloomin’ burahobbit.
Burt: And all that good mutton gone t’waste.
Tom: I said, shaddup, both of you. Lor’, my joints is stiffer than me socks before laundry day.
Burt: That’s because we’re stone, you big dunderheaded king of the dunderheads!
Tom: I KNOW that, you big galumphing wart festival.
Bill: Bloomin’ burahobbit.
Burt: He never did say what a burahobbit was.
Bill: He were rather short.
Tom: And rather round.
Burt: And them feet! Never saw the like.
Bill: Yours ain’t exactly dainty neither, mate.
Bill: (sighs) Mum warned me ‘bout stayin’ up too late. Why couldn’t it have been cloudy that day?
Burt: Don’t think it woulda mattered, Bill.
Bill: Yup, she’d say, ‘Bill, you can’t soar wit’ the eagles when you hoot wit’ the owls’.
Tom: Well, me mum was right ‘bout one thing. She said, ‘Tom-lad, one day yer face is goin’ to freeze like that.’
Bill: I’m hungry. Wonder what time it is.
Tom: Time to shaddup, is what it is. ‘Cause of your yammerin’, we’re sittin’ here, with bird doo all over us and folks pointin’ and starin’…
Burt: Tweren’t fair. We were too young to turn to stone.
Bill: Bloomin’ burahobbit.