Cumslap couldn't get enough of the wind on his crimson dome
"Would you please stop doing that sir?"
Cumslap's ABBA cassette rolled through the stereo and spilled from the speakers, he seemed oblivious to the remarks
"Sorry it's just that well, we were talking and well, we don't think it's a particularly good look, you know?"
Cumslap arched over his map of the British road network and fondled his rippled scalp
"Two hundred and fifty thousand miles of road lads" Cumslap shoved his Ray-Bans up his beak "what a beaut"