Muzzeurr and ah were ‘aving a good talk about les birds and les bees.

Apparently les Birds ‘ave feathers and les bees sting you if you are stupeed enough to eat them.

Of course ah am not that stupeed howeveur, Le Uncle ate one once. Eh eh eh.

‘ee insist ‘e did eet for ‘a larf’. Australians do thees sort of stupidity all le time.

Even Muzzeur ees not that stupeed. She does ‘ave mud on ‘er face though.

Le Uncle can not believe ‘ow much mud she plaster on all oveur ‘erself.
‘e keep ‘imself squeeky clean.

‘e stare and stare at ‘er until she get flustered. ‘What?’ she say ‘What are you looking at?’

Le Uncle make le mistake of walking oveur to take a closeur look at all le mud on Muzzeur.

Ah stand be’ind ‘im. Any minute now, Muzzeur will ‘ave ‘is guts for garteurs.

‘Do eet Le Uncle,’ ah urge.

‘Bring it on,’ say Muzzeur.

Suddenly Le Uncle, ‘e ‘as something urgent ‘e ‘as to do.

‘Crikey’ say Le Uncle, and ‘e ees staring at Uzzeur Muzzeur now.
‘Persil, Small and Mighty’ say Uzzeur Muzzeur to noone in particular.

‘Nine out of ten Mares prefer Persil,’ she say then she laugh ‘isterically.

‘Nine out of ten huh,’ ‘e say, ‘who’d have thought?’
We are neveur going to ‘ear le end of this.

‘Ow many mares prefer me Uzzeur Muzzeur?’
ah ‘ave to ask although ah already know le answer…they all do.