The doorbell rang again. What a bloody nuisance that was turning into. Of course, i could take the door away all together, but tramps might start living in the washing machine again. So, with a sigh and a heavy heart, i went to receive my visitors.
"Good day Sir, and what a lovely one it is!"
I looked at the two men standing on my doorstep. The first - the speaker - was a heavyset, suited skin-headed man who looked about at home in a suit as a tomato in fruit salad. He seemed slightly ill-at-ease with his speech, and as he continued, he tried to subtly check some prompt cards hidden in his left hand.
"British Summer aye, you can't beat them! But you know what would make them better? If there were less brown people about, of course!"
"Nein!" Interrupted the second man, moustache a-bristling, "Warn him about ze Jews"
I looked at the second man. he stood at 5'9", was attempting a comb-over, and looked about 119 years old. There was something familiar about him, but i couldn't place it.
"In a minute," the talked whispered. "We'll ease him in.
" Harry 'Smasher' Sedcolm, your local BNP candidate" he introduced himself, giving an almost toothless smile. He handed me some badly written paraphernalia about how my daughter was 150% more likely to be raped by a Muslim. It didn't explain what this was compaired to however.
I invited them in for tea, but they didn't stay long. The older one stole all of the biscuits, and attempted to annex the living room. He was funny, I hope they call again.
Of course, that was fiction. Suggesting the BNP are in any way a racist party who would support Hitler's anti-semitism is as ridiculous as denying the Holocaust...
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