Left and Right Hands and Legs

The shamble leg man sat next to a man with no left hand on the bus. The man with no left hand, but a right, said ‘my, my, my dear man, but aren’t you’re legs a shambles?’ The shamble leg man said to the man with no left hand ‘you, my dear, dear man, must have a tough go opening a can of briny fish’. ‘I, my dear man, do not eat briny fish’. The bus came to a whiplash halt, the shamble leg man caroming into the man with no left hand. The man with a right hand, but no left, flew backwards, his hat toppling from the topmost top of his head. The other riders, sitting knee-to-knee to one another, some wearing hats, others not, flew willy-nilly this way and that, those with hats grabbing on tight to the topmost tops of they’re heads, those without hats clutching handbags and cigarette-boxes. ‘Might I offer you a mild smoke?’ asked one of the behatted riders. A gull flew flapping in through the bus window its head festooned with baubles and lost string. ‘I would, a cigarette please, yes for me’ said the gull flippantly. The bus came to a second whiplash halt, the gull caroming into the shamble leg man’s fob. At this, the second whiplash halt, the man with no left leg, but a right, said ‘not on you’re life, my dear feathered friend, away with you, and quickly’. ‘These bus rides are getting more worse’ said the man with a right leg. ‘There, my dear, dear friend, is no need for a more before worse, never’ said the shamble leg man, trying desperately to pull himself free of the man with no left leg’s leg, the one leg he had, the right one. The gull flew back out the bus window, the man with no left leg’s hat clutched in its beak.