The Rat

A tale of heartbreak and betrayal, told by Peter Sharpe

Sexy Sadie flashed her eyes then whispered in my ear,
Her unrequited passions which she wanted me to hear.
'Take me, sate me, intoxicate me, inseminate and desecrate me,
Let our love be unconfined, like mating serpents intertwined;
We'll cross the land from coast to coast, footloose and fancy free,
No rooms to book, no trains to catch, it's the campervan life for me'.

Now herein lied a problem as I didn't have a van,
I suppose I had suggested it, but so would any man
When sitting in a hostelry with at least five pints inside
And this flirting vixen next to me - it's no wonder that I lied.
But this caused a dilemma, as my ancient, battered truck
Was far from the conveyance that would guarantee my luck.

So I had to make excuses: 'it was stolen set on fire'
Obviously she believed me, because I'm an inventive, skilful liar
But herein lay a problem; you see I'd been a little rash,
As I'd lied about my finances and was short of ready cash.
But then I had a brainwave which really couldn't fail,
'Pretend we're flower children', I said, 'upon the hippie trail'.

She said, 'I'll get a kaftan - an Afghan coat as well'.
'You'd better bloody not', I said, 'I know how much they smell'.
She went to buy some joss sticks and some henna for her hair,
While I went off to Camper Mart to see what they had there.
I just wanted something cheap in which to consummate the dirty deed,
But all I found for a thousand pounds was a van in which a dog had peed.

I found a Mazda Bongo, but it wasn't what we'd planned,
It came all the way from Tokyo, on sale at just three grand.
The roof was raised electrically, lined with nicotine,
And the vinyl seats were sticky, before we'd even been obscene.
It may have been inscrutable but it was sadly indisputable,
That in spite of being exotic, the bed just wasn't suitable for anything erotic.

Then suddenly I saw it, a heap of muck and rust,
One headlight pointing at the ground, the other in the dust.
In my eyes simply Nazi-sponsored tat built for the proletariat
But the salesman claimed it was a 'rat' and a highly desirable one at that.
The smarm purveyor, closing in, said with cheesy teeth and rictus grin,
'It's not yet been twice round the clock - this engine's only running in'.

Of course I didn't believe him, but time was getting late,
So I handed him a wad of notes and left it all to fate.
He said that when I picked it up it would be almost good as new,
He'd empty all the ashtrays - chuck in a free air freshener too.
The mice would be evicted; they wouldn't feel a thing,
Then he'd fix some shiny bumpers on with screws instead of string.

When Sadie heard about the news I could tell she was impressed,
She said how much she loved me as she started to undress,
She asked about its colour and whether I'd given it a name,
'Either Ratty or Rusty', I said, without bothering to explain.
So I thought I'd make the most of it and get my evil way
Before she saw my rusty Rat, then screamed and ran away.

Collection day soon came around and at the appointed time
The keys were handed over and an MOT saying all was fine.
They'd finally plugged the oil leak and the silencer had needed patching,
They'd even put new wheels on - but it's a shame that none were matching.
The seat-bed looked the business in its orange nylon covers,
Complete with special earthing wire for enthusiastic lovers.

The steering was approximate and it's being diplomatic
To say the brakes were sadly lacking and the gear change quite erratic.
But elsewhere wasn't all that bad and the radio worked just fine
Except it only picked up medium wave and was stuck on Radio Caroline
I drove it back to Sadie but she was nowhere to be seen
She'd left a note and on it wrote, 'I'm sorry to be mean,
But I've left for Spain with Andy in his travelling bordello'.
I'd lost her heart to a jumped up fart in a blue Murvi Morello.