There was a nuisance North of Nigel's nose: it was his hair which was slightly less spritely than the day born out of yesterday's sun.
If you don't eat less crusts your nuisance will become a lifestyle Nigel; was what father Norman said to his son of twenty-nothing tepid years. We didn't call you Nigel for nothing. Nor for a nuisance above your nose.
I'm meant to eat me crusts to avoid the nuisance... Nigel retorted after snorting a line of happy air from his Mammy's glue.
I'm thinking the glue have something to do with the nuisance North of your nose child Nigel, stammered Mam of fifteen shoddy children of whom Nigel was just one.
Mam! Just shut that trap South of your nose before I eject you out the window with a whack of the broom. No one lay a hand on me broom I tell ye ya filthy stink of a son retorted a washed out Mammy still fudged on fumes of the glue.
Bloody fine, bloody howlin fine! That was what Nigel booted from his mouth next. Let me scarper this sticky porridge fast and sooner than the bloomin bus come.
Father articulated hereafter - The moving big bus has been and gone you silly poddy lark face! Now - and not now of tomorrow - you take care of that nuisance North of your nose. Ye need that feather pile on ye head top to woo ye future wife.
Nigel speaks with fury now... Ye think that knowledge of the importance of what lay North of my nose is not known to I, Nigel? Ye think? Ye think no thoughts of common sense ye prat!
Shush and have a good day son said Ugly Mam.
Toodle was all the chair leg piddled and Nigel barmied out the door.