Pikeys and padlocks. (six more sleeps)

The house is being renovated. We started doing it last September, just before Dooza got sick, but once he became unwell, everything got put on hold, then after we'd lost him, we'd also lost our enthusiasm, so nothing really got done until the end of February.
Then the plumbers moved in, and ripped out all the radiators, and replaced them with original Victorian ones, which look really nice, but kill your arse when you sit on them. All the old rads, pipes, a couple of cast iron fireplaces, and aluminium flue liners, have been stored (dumped) behind the side gate.

One day last week, this dirty, stumpy little geezer knocked at the door, and told me he'd been asked by the builders to come and clear the rubbish. What rubbish I asked the grubby, vertically challenged one. The scrap behind the gate....shall I show you? No need to show me, I know perfectly well whats behind my own gate, and you aren't having it, but I'll sell you a bar of soap, if you promise to bugger off. I didn't give him the soap, but he did leave, and apart from wondering how he knew my treasures were there, I didn't give it another thought, until today.

Came home from walking the mafia, and was just making coffee when there was a knock at the front door. Well, the mafia were going nuts with the barking they usually reserve for the DHL man. That, let me at your testicles kind of bark. By the time I'd got to the door whoever it was had gone, so why were the girls still in full we want balls for lunch mode? I looked again, and bugger me, I had a pikey up my back passage,(never a comfortable feeling) over my six foot gate, dancing around on my old rads. I think I said something like, "good afternoon sir, may I help you?" To which my uninvited guest replied, " I'm not doin' nuffin, I'm a builder, working on a flat roof round the corner." Oh, silly me, I thought you were an effing pikey, trying to nick my scrap metal. " Oi !! yelled the soon to be castrated intruder, you can't call me a pikey, I'll report you." At this point hysteria took over, and in between thanking my maker for Tena products, I tried to explain as rationally as possible to the travelling gentleman ( who'd become strangely static), that I could call him whatever I chose, as he had failed to introduce himself before breaking into my property, with a view to stealing my treasures. I suggested that now would be a good time to leave, as the mafia had worked themselves up into full Spin gloop frenzy, at the thought of the tasty snack I'd promised them. He agreed, and exited my back passage (ahh the relief), walking quite rapidly, past Madge and Pie, (who I'd temporarily renamed Tyson and Kaiser) pulling bits off the cottoneaster in a final act of defiance as he went.
I now have a padlock the size of Big Ben on the gate, Tyson and Kaiser had to make do with chicken wings, but the main thing, is, my treasures are safe!!

PS. Six more sleeps:O)