cabbage

Weel, it wis a dreich day in Glenfinnan, an’ Kevin an’ Lance, those two eejits, decided they’d tak’ a trip intae toon tae see what mischief they could stir up. They hopped on Kevin’s rusty auld bicycle, wi’ Lance perched on the handlebars like a daft scarecrow, an’ off they wobbled doon the road.

Upon arrivin’ in toon, the first place they hit wis McDougal’s Pub. They ordered a pint each an’ settled in, lookin’ roond fer their next bit o’ trouble. No sooner had they finished their pints than Kevin spotted a dartboard on the wall.

“Lance, ye useless bawbag, I bet ye cannae hit the bullseye,” Kevin slurred, half-cut already.

“Ach, yer on, ye daftie,” Lance replied, grabbin’ a dart an’ squintin’ at the board. He took aim, but as he threw, he slipped on a puddle o’ spilled ale an’ sent the dart flyin’ intae old Mrs. MacTavish’s arse.

“Och, ye wee shite!” she screamed, jumpin’ up an’ causin’ a right commotion. Kevin an’ Lance, tryin’ tae hold back their laughter, decided it wis time tae skedaddle afore they got their arses kicked.

They bolted oot the pub an’ made their way tae the market square, where a wee farmer’s market wis in full swing. Kevin, the cheeky git, spotted a stall sellin’ cabbages an’ decided tae nick a couple.

“Quick, Lance! Grab those cabbages!” Kevin hissed.

Lance, nae stranger tae daft schemes, scooped up a handful o’ cabbages an’ stuffed them under his shirt. But as they made their getaway, the cabbage seller noticed an’ gave chase, yellin’ at the top o’ his lungs.

“Ye thievin’ bastards! Come back wi’ ma cabbages!”

Kevin an’ Lance ran like the wind, but in their panic, they stumbled intae a troop o’ bagpipers marchin’ doon the street. The pipers scattered like chickens, their bagpipes wheezin’ an’ honkin’ as they tried tae avoid the cabbages tumblin’ frae Lance’s shirt.

“Ye’ve done it this time, Kevin,” Lance puffed, tryin’ tae keep up.

“Ach, shut yer gob an’ keep runnin’,” Kevin snapped back, barely able tae see through his tears o’ laughter.

Eventually, they ducked intae a wee alley tae catch their breath. They thought they were in the clear until a bobby appeared at the end o’ the alley, his nightstick twirlin’ menacingly.

“Oi, ye two! Whit have ye been up tae?” he barked.

Thinkin’ quickly, Kevin put on his best innocent face. “Och, nothin’, officer. Jist a wee misunderstanding wi’ some cabbages, ye ken.”

The bobby looked them ower, shakin’ his heid. “Right, ye pair o’ numpties, get yersel’s hame afore I lock ye up fer the night.”

Grateful tae escape wi’ their hides intact, Kevin an’ Lance made their way back tae Glenfinnan, still laughin’ at the day’s misadventures. Covered in cabbage leaves an’ bruised egos, they vowed tae lay low fer a while – or at least until the next time they fancied a trip intae toon.

An’ so, the tale o’ Kevin an’ Lance’s escapade in the toon became yet another chapter in the legend o’ Glenfinnan’s daftest duo, a warnin’ tae a’ who might think tae follow in their foolhardy footsteps.