I’d been baking a choad for two hours and inadvertently let a little Tommy Squeaker go whilst loading some oldies onto the 13. Not proud of it, but it couldn’t be helped. I opened the window but it had some real hang time and, as the first little old lady got on, I felt I had nowhere to hide. Then, as if by magic, the Bristol Poo Bus trumpeted past and parked up in front of me.
Me: (loudly) Ooh look. It’s that bus that runs on human waste.
Little old lady: Ooh, it does smell, doesn’t it? It’s disgusting.