Ah cood wit ma hootie!
Bellowed the new guy, Pork-Shin sitting at the row of desks in front of me. He seemed very proud of himself as if he had discovered he had grown a spare penis whilst having his breakfast cereal.
I beg your pardon?
I called over in my finest and most comprehensible way.
Up ma hawnie! Heer we go!
Pork-Shin stood up and mimed swinging a golf club.
I chewed my tongue as if it were a lady-finger.
Sorry. I don't think I can understand you?
I said and indeed for once I was apologetic. Pork-Shin was English and very posh. His accent stuck out among us guttural apes of the North by a mile. It felt like we were working with the Queen sometimes.
He walked closer to me and spoke again. This time more clearly.
Don't you like it? I have been practicing, I think I am getting pretty good!
He exclaimed, holding his shitty little hands out in front of his chest like a beaver when sniffing the air for danger.
I gave him a sideways look and raised an eyebrow.
Practicing what, exactly?
I said slowly, in the same tone of voice I use when attempting to lure large toads out from the undergrowth.
Echty bechty humphy anaw!
He yelled, slapping his thigh with one hand.
I felt a vague tickling of comprehension form in my head.
Is that... American? Are you speaking in an American accent?
I asked warily. Pork-Shin had only been here a week or so and I had no idea if he was a dangerous kind of loon or just a dick.
What? No! It's not American.
Pork-Shin looked crestfallen then brightened.
This is American...
He screwed up his face and leaned over to the side as if he was suffering from a stroke.
Hoiya git outta heya, ya bum.
I narrowed my eyes.
Isn't that Welsh?
What?! No! It's not blooming Welsh. Anyway. Didn't you understand the first one? Hochy bochy noo?
I shook my head. He was either possessed by devils or talking gibberish. I was leaning more to the devil possession.
Pork-Shin exclaimed somewhat belligerently.
You must have realised, surely? Are you just pulling my leg?
I drew in a big breath of air and let it out in a big shmoosh of a breath. I waggled a finger at Pork-Shin in warning.
Are you being racist?
He jerked back as if stung.
Erm, no? I'm just having a laugh. A joke, you know?
I made a face as if he had just danced against my leg like a dog after drinking vinegar.
I plugged my headphones in and shook my head, steadfastly ignoring his protestations of innocence.
I had an inward chuckle. That will learn him.