The modern equivalent of cattle rustlers around here are the folk who sneak out under cover of darkness (and sometimes not even that) and plunder orchards. Cherries, plums, apples, apricots, pears.
Big bags full.
They'll even dig up potatoes.
Farmers don't have anything against one's picking a cherry or two on the morning constitutional through the countryside, but I'd be all for connecting up the fences to the National Grid.
And hanging, drawing and quartering has a nice ring to it.
After a session on the rack, that is.
Bastards.
1 comment:
Gosh, I thought forbidden fruit was just something a little bit different!
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