“Luckily my mum’s not a pig”

The following is a word for word transcript of a secret recording I managed to take of a fascinating woman talking rather loudly on her phone on a 5pm Saturday bus.

“I ain’t never eating Chinese food bruv. Seriously… No bruv, we ain’t doing it no more. We ain’t eating it no more. No more Chinese food…wait, just let me check if there are any Chinese people on the bus… No… But I don’t know about upstairs. I was watching this show yeah. I was watching Gogglebox. You ever seen Gogglebox?… Basically, you’re watching people watch TV… It’s my fucking show, man! I love it. It’s my show. So yeah, they were watching a documentary about China. In China yeah they steal dogs off the street yeah and cook ‘em. It’s so fucking cruel man. Anyway, this lady was just chopping up a dog man and it looked like ribs. I mean it! It looked like the fucking ribs I eat every time. It looked like the lamb ribs I cook. I mean it, you’d never know what they were man. It could be a dog. We ain’t never eating that shit again man. So fucking cruel man… In their country they don’t eat all that Chinese food, man. They eat actually healthy, that’s why there’s…you know what, yeah, there’s only a couple of fat Chinese people I’ve seen. All of them are skinny and have nice figures because they don’t eat that…that nasty shit. They just sell it here. They don’t care, they don’t care about our health, bruv…yeah…yeah man, my mum…my mum, my mum bought a pack of sushi from Tesco and some beetle or a cockroach came out of it…Yes! My mum went back to Tesco and dash it upon their face… what do you mean? She dashed it in their face and said “I want my money back! The fuck I’m eating beetles, bruv? What the fuck is this?” hahahaha… HAHAHAHA… what? Shit yeah my mum took that bus, 276, back to that Tesco. She dash it in their face. D’ya mean? On my receipt it says ‘sushi’, bruv, not fucking beetles. I on’t want that. I want my money, bruv. Beetles coming out of it. That scared the shit out of me, bruv! Luckily my mum looks at her food before she eats it. Luckily my mum’s not a pig and just shoves it down her face. She bites it and she puts it back down. She bit it then she put it back down. We saw something crawling, bruv! Yes! It was in the thing alive! i said “why is your pepper moving? Why is the pepper moving?!” Then…a fucking bug. In the food…That’s what I’m saying…It doesn’t matter if it’s fucking dead or alive, there was a fucking beetle in there. The was something that had a heartbeat in her food. That’s not right….hahaha…It’s not funny, that moment’s just come back to my head….haha…yes! What do you mean? Things that have heartbeats should not be in your food. Unless it’s chicken… The only thing, the only living thing that I’ll ever eat is chicken, lamb, beef and…and ham, like bacon and stuff like that and fish – yeah pig, that’s it, and fish. That’s it. And you know what yeah? I try not to think about it. I try not to think…mhmm…And the way that they killed these dogs on the programme yeah, is so heartless. They just take a hammer and pop it upon their head. They don’t care. So evil. The dogs are alive, you know? And they just…and they way they steal the dogs, yeah, they have this, like, truck. No, when they first steal them, yeah, they yank it with like this thing that looks like a walking stick and they put it on their collar and they just drag hem along the motorbike . They just drag them and the dogs just die…yeah.”

© Carl Burkitt 2014


Vincent did a massive poo at work.
It stank.
At the point of impact
Four colleagues entered the room.
Vincent refused to leave the cubicle
Out of embarrassment.
Once they disappeared
Three more entered.
Followed by one guy.
Then two.
Then six.
Then 13 (during lunch of the health and safety course).
Then four more.
Then two.
This went on for several weeks.

© Carl Burkitt 2014


Like an old cliché that defied their years
He watched her washing up.
He watched her dress the filthy pots in bubbles
Like her chitchat cheering low moods.
He watched her caress the carving knives
Like her whispers soothing rage.
He watched her chip away the baking tray stains
Like her patience clearing darkness.
She watched
As he silently squeezed her shoulder
Then backed towards the door.
‘What was that for?’ she said,
Continuing her deep cleanse.
‘Nothing,’ he said,
Unaware he’d made her day.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

The herding of the Masters

Ext. 11.30am. A large green field, 10 miles in to the Swindon Half Marathon.

Four sheep are watching the thousands of runners go by.

YOUNG SHEEP: What on Earth are the Masters doing?

OLDER SHEEP 1: Blimey, that time already?

YOUNG SHEEP: What time?

OLDER SHEEP 2: Is it really October?

OLDER SHEEP 3: Indeed it is.

YOUNG SHEEP: What’s going on?

OLDER SHEEP 1: Crikey.

OLDER SHEEP 2: Poor buggers.

YOUNG SHEEP: Would somebody PLEASE tell me what’s happening?!

OLDER SHEEP 3: Calm down, little one. It’s the annual herding of the Masters.


OLDER SHEEP 1: The herding of the Masters.

YOUNG SHEEP: My goodness, the Masters get herded too?

OLDER SHEEP 2: Yep. It’s quite sad, really.

YOUNG SHEEP: What kind of being could possibly be powerful enough to herd the Masters?

OLDER SHEEP 3: Oh, little one, you don’t want to know.

YOUNG SHEEP: I do, I do. Please tell me!


OLDER SHEEP 3: No! He’s too young.

YOUNG SHEEP: I’m not! I’m nearly one!

OLDER SHEEP 1: He needs to know, brother.

OLDER SHEEP 2: We can’t hide it forever.

OLDER SHEEP 3: [Sighs] Very well. I shall tell him.

YOUNG SHEEP: Thank you, thank you!

OLDER SHEEP 3: Yes, yes, little one. OK. Every year, around this time, the Masters are herded up by a strange, mysterious creature know as Charity.

YOUNG SHEEP: Charity…?

OLDER SHEEP 1: Yeah, Charity! I heard it’s a huge, ugly, hairy, wart-ridden beast with six gigantic arms and eight different coloured eyes!

OLDER SHEEP 2: Yeah? Well I heard it’s a flaming, God-like spirit that breathes acid and crushes souls in its vice-like grip just because it CAN.

YOUNG SHEEP: [Looking nervous] Really?

OLDER SHEEP 3: No one quite knows. But whatever it is, it’s an unsavoury being. Every year it preys on innocent figures, steals their money and forces them to watch their loved ones complete hideous challenges.

YOUNG SHEEP: Ch…challenges? What kind of challenges?

OLDER SHEEP 3: Like running 13 miles.

OLDER SHEEP 1: I heard Charity makes Masters climb mountains!

OLDER SHEEP 2: Yeah? Well I heard it chucks Masters out of planes!


OLDER SHEEP 3: I’m afraid so. I’ve even heard tales of Charity forcing Masters to live in a bath of baked beans.

YOUNG SHEEP: Dear God. But why? Why does it do it?!

OLDER SHEEP 3: Because it’s a vicious, selfish entity that laughs at the weak.

YOUNG SHEEP: Does…does Charity ever attack sheep?


YOUNG SHEEP: Does it…?

OLDER SHEEP 1: Tell him, brother.

OLDER SHEEP 3: I can’t.

YOUNG SHEEP: Tell me what?

OLDER SHEEP 2: You must.

OLDER SHEEP 3: [Sighs] Charity attacked Wise Old Sheep.

YOUNG SHEEP: No! Charity made him-

OLDER SHEEP 3: [Nods] I’m afraid so.

YOUNG SHEEP: [Crying] What happened?

OLDER SHEEP 3: The full story has never been told. However what we do know is it was a cold, rainy day, so Master herded us towards the barn. The weather was horrendous, so we all scrambled as fast as we could to get warm. There was pushing and shoving, and before we knew it, Wise Old Sheep was left behind. It turns out he fell into the fence and got his back legs caught in barbed wire. By the time Master arrived, Charity had ripped his legs off-

A gruff, but booming voice echoes from the shadows. It’s Wise Old Sheep.


The four sheep freeze to attention.

OLDER SHEEP 3: We’re sor-

WISE OLD SHEEP: I said, silence!

Wise Old Sheep drags his body from out of the shadows, revealing two shiny wheels where his back legs should be. His fur is patchy, his rump is scarred.

WISE OLD SHEEP: Fill not this boy’s mind with rubbish.

Young sheep looks at his senior, who’s staring back at him.

WISE OLD SHEEP: Charity saved my life.

Wise Old Sheep looks out at the runners as two plodding men make their way towards them.

WISE OLD SHEEP: You must cheer for these warriors.


WISE OLD SHEEP: Cheer! Show some respect.

OLDER SHEEP 1: Baaaaaa!

OLDER SHEEP 2: Baaaaaaaa!

OLDER SHEEP 3: Baaaaaaaaaa!

YOUNG SHEEP: Baaaaaaaaaaa!

Runners #13876 and #13999 slow down.

RUNNER #13876: J…John. Are those sheep…cheering us on?

RUNNER #13999: Shut your face, Kev, I’m knackered.

Kev looks into the eyes of Wise Old Sheep.

Wise Old Sheep nods at Kev’s RSPCA running vest.

Kev nods back and heads towards the finish line.

© Carl Burkitt 2014

I think the world is going bonkers today

A response to the challenge to write a poem beginning with the line ‘I think the world is going bonkers today’.

I think the world is going bonkers today:
I wandered around my place of work
on the hunt for a lunch break chum.
But instead of yeses, sure things or why nots,
the crowd just stayed silent;
Tutting at the penis hanging from my flies.

© Carl Burkitt 2014