Once
upon a time, ther’ wer’ a kid called Georgie Taramosalata, a skinny little runt
oo addled in ‘is parent’s Greek fast-food
‘Souvlaki’ shop, opposite t’ porno cinema in Leeds. A place frequented ivvery
neight by flashers, ladies o’ low
voltage, aat o’ ‘ours drunks, vagabonds an’ t’ ‘omeless. (Especially once it’d
got past chuckin’ aat time.) ‘ere ‘e med ‘Kalmaki Shishkebab’ (pieces o’ grilled
meat on a stick) an’ ‘Gyros’ (an assortment o’ minced meat, tomatoes, onions,
an’ tzatziki, wrapped in pita bread) f’ t’ night owls, misfits an’ inbreads.
It wer’ a strange sort o’ life really, mainly nocturnal, a tad smelly, wi reight long hours – but Georgie cud mek a gastronomic silk purse aat o’ a sow’s ear – an’ often did. Literally! Only on rare occasions did ‘e use real pork cuts in ‘is offerings – an’ even rarer, lamb – which p’rhaps explains t’ lack o’ vermin an’ strays in t’ area. Nonetheless, ‘e ‘ad t’ midas touch wen it cum t’ cookin’, an’ ‘ad developed an enviable reputation f’ servin up t’ best kebabs in t’ whole o’ West Yorkshire. No trip ter t’ flicks, stag night, hen party, ooer piss-up, wer’ ivver complete wi aat one o’ Georgie’s mouth numbingly-good conglomerations on t’ way ‘ome.
Georgie nivver ad a single complaint. Though ter be honest, oo cud complain? ‘alf o’ ‘is walking-dead patrons took five steps sideways ter ivvery one f’ward, an’ ‘ad spilled most o’ theyer supper by t’ time they’d crossed t’ Headrow - often resultin’ in yet mooare food bein’ purchased. Few ivver med it home wi’ aat up-chuckin’ on route. Ivvery night abaat 2am you‘d hear t’ choked shouts o’ Ralph an’ Huey echo daan t’ cobbles. Many wer simply so excessively under t’ affluence o’ incohol, they ‘ad no idea ‘ow much they’’d spent, wayer, wi whom ooer on wot? So short changing ‘em wer’ jus’ like takin’ candy fra a baby.
Yet despite t’ apparent good life, Georgie longed f’ an adventure! ‘is fatther Gerontios , ‘ad brung Georgie an’ ‘is mother Polychronia, ova fra Greece wen ‘e retired fra t’ army; an’ in an unconscious effort to forge a link back ter ‘is ‘ome-land, ‘ad beguiled little Georgie thru aat ‘is childhood, wi ‘is stories o’ mythical creatures, heroes an’ unruly Gods.
Sadly, Georgie lost ‘is fatther, an’ one o’ ‘is own ears in a ferretin’ incident aged jus’ 14 – an’ f’ years after wore a pair o’ ‘is mothers stockings tied round ‘is ‘ead ter ‘old ‘is glasses in place. Later, after ‘is mother ‘ad also passed on, ‘e swapped these f’ a tea cozy wi an extra loop added on one side.
It wer’ a strange sort o’ life really, mainly nocturnal, a tad smelly, wi reight long hours – but Georgie cud mek a gastronomic silk purse aat o’ a sow’s ear – an’ often did. Literally! Only on rare occasions did ‘e use real pork cuts in ‘is offerings – an’ even rarer, lamb – which p’rhaps explains t’ lack o’ vermin an’ strays in t’ area. Nonetheless, ‘e ‘ad t’ midas touch wen it cum t’ cookin’, an’ ‘ad developed an enviable reputation f’ servin up t’ best kebabs in t’ whole o’ West Yorkshire. No trip ter t’ flicks, stag night, hen party, ooer piss-up, wer’ ivver complete wi aat one o’ Georgie’s mouth numbingly-good conglomerations on t’ way ‘ome.
Georgie nivver ad a single complaint. Though ter be honest, oo cud complain? ‘alf o’ ‘is walking-dead patrons took five steps sideways ter ivvery one f’ward, an’ ‘ad spilled most o’ theyer supper by t’ time they’d crossed t’ Headrow - often resultin’ in yet mooare food bein’ purchased. Few ivver med it home wi’ aat up-chuckin’ on route. Ivvery night abaat 2am you‘d hear t’ choked shouts o’ Ralph an’ Huey echo daan t’ cobbles. Many wer simply so excessively under t’ affluence o’ incohol, they ‘ad no idea ‘ow much they’’d spent, wayer, wi whom ooer on wot? So short changing ‘em wer’ jus’ like takin’ candy fra a baby.
Yet despite t’ apparent good life, Georgie longed f’ an adventure! ‘is fatther Gerontios , ‘ad brung Georgie an’ ‘is mother Polychronia, ova fra Greece wen ‘e retired fra t’ army; an’ in an unconscious effort to forge a link back ter ‘is ‘ome-land, ‘ad beguiled little Georgie thru aat ‘is childhood, wi ‘is stories o’ mythical creatures, heroes an’ unruly Gods.
Sadly, Georgie lost ‘is fatther, an’ one o’ ‘is own ears in a ferretin’ incident aged jus’ 14 – an’ f’ years after wore a pair o’ ‘is mothers stockings tied round ‘is ‘ead ter ‘old ‘is glasses in place. Later, after ‘is mother ‘ad also passed on, ‘e swapped these f’ a tea cozy wi an extra loop added on one side.
Nah aalmost young
man – Georgie needed summat mooare than kebabs! So one neight, in a drunken
stupor, ‘e locked up ‘is parent’s Souvlaki shop, mounted ‘is Vincent Black Lightening
motorbike, an’ weaved off daan t’ road ter be a soldier o’ fortune!
O’course this didn’t appen ova night like. Fust ‘e joined the TA. Then ‘e became t’ camp cook wi t’ regulars; an’ atter servin’ ‘is time, ‘e finally went solo as a security consultant in Saath Africa.
Abaat t’ same time as Georgie wer’ goin’ solo, in t’ north o’ t’ country, jus’ aat side t’ city o’ Cyrene, trouble wer’ a stirrin’. A bloody great big dragon, fed up wi jus’ livin’ in t’ fairytales, ‘ad decided ter inhabit t’ local lake – t’ only source o’ watter f’ t’ city. Wen ivver t’ locals wud go fer provisions, t’ dragon wud either eat them ooer breathe fire on ‘em, instantly turning ‘em into little piles o’ barbeque charcoal.
As t’ population decreased, t’ folks o’ Cyrene ‘ad no choice but ter cum
ter terms wi yon dragon. They agreed ter gi ‘im one person ivvery month ter
eat, so long as ‘e left t’ others alone an’ unharmed f’ t’ rest o’ t’ time.O’course this didn’t appen ova night like. Fust ‘e joined the TA. Then ‘e became t’ camp cook wi t’ regulars; an’ atter servin’ ‘is time, ‘e finally went solo as a security consultant in Saath Africa.
Abaat t’ same time as Georgie wer’ goin’ solo, in t’ north o’ t’ country, jus’ aat side t’ city o’ Cyrene, trouble wer’ a stirrin’. A bloody great big dragon, fed up wi jus’ livin’ in t’ fairytales, ‘ad decided ter inhabit t’ local lake – t’ only source o’ watter f’ t’ city. Wen ivver t’ locals wud go fer provisions, t’ dragon wud either eat them ooer breathe fire on ‘em, instantly turning ‘em into little piles o’ barbeque charcoal.
At fust, t’ choice o’ victim wer’ easy, but as t’ prisons emptied, t’ crime rate plummeted an’ door ter door salesmen vanished in ter obscurity, t’ choice becum much ‘arder. So t’ king o’ Cyreen decreed that t’ names o’ ivvery citizen shud be scratched on ter pieces o’ pottery, an’ kept in a great eric. (Or was it an urn?) Onny road, each month, one o’ t’ names wud be drawn aat o’ t’ eric, an’ that pooar sod wud be fed ter t’ dragon. In this way blokes an’ lasses, rich ooer poor, wer’ chosen at random ter becum supper fer t’ evil beast!
Then one day, fate dealt t’ king another
cruel blow – f’ one day it wer’ t’ name o’ t’ princess wot wer’shaken
aat o’ t’ eric. An according ter t’ king’s own law, ‘is daughter wer’ f’ t’
slaughter. So ‘e called t’ people together
an’ offered ‘em gold an’ treasure if only they wud agree ter spare ‘er fra t’ dragon. T’ judges oo oversaw t’
lottery said that it must be completely fair like, ooer else t’ people wud no
longer accept it. An’ so, much saddened, t’ King said ter t’ princess: “Mi
dear, ah shall nivver see tha wedding day – so ivvery claad ‘as a silver
linin’.”
Appen a week quickly past, an’ t’ day arrived wen she must meet ‘er fate. T’ palace servants dressed ‘er in t’ wedding gaawn she’d previously picked aat ‘just in case’ she met Mr Right, an’ placed a craawn o’ flowers on ‘er bonse. They led ‘er aat o’ t’ city in a reight grand procession, an’ aat t’ lake wayer yon dragon waited aal expectantly like.
As luck wud ‘ave it, whilst they wer’ on theyer way, a dude on a Vincent Black Lightening motorbike cum riding up ter t’ city – an admirin’ t’ parade,
asked why such a beautiful lass wer’ lookin’ like a slapped arse on ‘er wedding
day? Appen a week quickly past, an’ t’ day arrived wen she must meet ‘er fate. T’ palace servants dressed ‘er in t’ wedding gaawn she’d previously picked aat ‘just in case’ she met Mr Right, an’ placed a craawn o’ flowers on ‘er bonse. They led ‘er aat o’ t’ city in a reight grand procession, an’ aat t’ lake wayer yon dragon waited aal expectantly like.
A local citizen replied: “Because according ter t’ law she must this day be nosh f’yon dragon wot lives in that lake! An’ ‘er wedding gift shall be death.”
“Seems a bit harsh!” says Georgie, adding matter o’ factly, “Besides theyer’s no such things as dragons! Theyer nowt but mythical stories told by old folks t’ frighten naughty chillens ter theyer beds!”
“Well clearly tha’s not seen this un then!” said t’ princess sarcastically, as t’ crowd yelled in unison, “IT’S BEHIND YOU!”
“OH NO IT ISN’T!” replied Georgie, nonetheless turnin’ raand. This wer’ follud by t’ saand o’ ‘is jaw hittin’ t’ graand, an’ a whispered, “Fuuuuuck me!”
As Georgie stood in shock, t’ city folks tied t’ pooar princess ter a tree by t’ lake, an’ left ‘er theyer ter meet ‘er fate.
“Oh bugger!” Said Georgie. “Appen tis mi sworn duty ter save yon lass fra such evils as that theyer dragon. But ‘ow? Wot ivver am ah ter do?”
T’ few citizens wot ‘eard ‘is mutterings warned ‘im that ‘ed ave mooare chance strikin’ matches on wet tripe than fightin’ against such a ferocious, plague-ridden, fire-breathing lizard! But ‘avin lived in Leeds f’ mony years like, Georgie reckoned issen ‘ard, an’ ‘e wer’ determined mooare than ivver ter save t’ princess.
“Erm, excuse me Mr Dragon” said Georgie suddenly, “Can ah ‘ave a quick word wi thee?” An’ wi that ‘e marched straight up ter t’ dragon an’ started whisperin’ in its lug ‘ole.
Meanwhile, t’ princess, oo’d bin previously very experimental wi sum boy scouts, managed ter silp aat o’ ‘er bonds wi ease, unnoticed by t’ craawd which wer’ holdin’ its collective breath watchin’ Georgie. But rather than eat ‘im, t’ dragon simply looked bemused. Then as they watched, a broad smile crept raand its huge gob an’ its head started noddin’ up an’ daan like it wer a bulldog in an insurance advert.
Georgie retreated a tad, an’ called aat ter t’ princes ter take off t’ belt fra araand ‘er waist an’ ter throw it to ‘im. This she did, an’ Georgie wrapped it gently araand t’ dragons neck like a collar. Immediately t’ dragon became as peaceful as a lamb. Georgie tied ‘is own belt t’ this an’ together wi t’ princess lead it peacefully into t’ city towards t’ palace.
Wen t’ people saw t’ princess an’ Georgie leadin’ t’ dragon back thru
theyer walls, they became angry an’ afraid, but Georgie made ‘em a promise ‘e
wud lead t’ dragon far fra theyer lands. T’ people knew that fra then on they cud live
safe an’ unharmed.
Nah ah know wot tha’s thinking. Appen tha thowat Geogie killed t’ dragon like wot it says in aal t’ hysterical books? Nooo! ‘e wer’ much too devious f’ that!
Fer savin’ ‘is daughter an ‘is city, t’ king knighted Georgie, an’ give ‘im t’ hand o’ t’ princess in marriage. So she became Mrs Taramosalata, an’ t’ king reluctantly paid f’ t’ wedding. ‘e didn’t really ‘ave onny choice as Georgie wer’ blackmailing ‘im wi t’ release o’ t’ dragon agayen. So t’ king also give Georgie a large part o’ ‘is wealth an’ fortune, not t’ keep ‘is beloved daughter in t’ style ter which she wer’ accustomed, but ter piss off an’ not darken ‘is dooar agayen. This Georgie invested in a chain of Souvlaki shops and Curry restaurants across Leeds an’ Bradford, wi’ ‘is new business partner an’ old mucker t’ dragon. (They’d actually met sum years previous at a military special ops briefin’ an’ ‘ad worked out t’ con atter watchin’ t’ good, t’ bad an’ t’ ugly on sky one neight.)
Together they wer’ responsible f’ inventing ‘Blue Dragon’ sauces an’ ‘Dragon Curry’ – which as aal Yorkshire men can testify is ‘otter than Vindaloo, Phaal or Tinderloo. In fact, tis t’ ‘ottest ring singe that’s ivver bin known ter man – an if tha breaks wind afterwards like, tha can set fire ter buses ooer strip wall paper in seconds. F’ that reason, it is served wi chilled bog roll in anticipation.
T’ king o’ Cyrene cud nivver bring issen t’ admit ‘ed bin ‘ad by a confident trickster, so t’ modern story o St. George an’ t’ dragon wer’ born. Ova monny years, George an’ t’ dragon repeated t’ con a number o’ times in different countries, which explains why ‘e is not only t’ patron saint o’ England, but also Canada, China, Greece, Russia, Portugal, Palestine, Ethiopia, Serbia, an’ Montenegro too. Appen there is even a country named atter him – an’ that’s Georgia, which is situated between Russia an’ Turkey.
So nah tha knows!
Nah ah know wot tha’s thinking. Appen tha thowat Geogie killed t’ dragon like wot it says in aal t’ hysterical books? Nooo! ‘e wer’ much too devious f’ that!
Fer savin’ ‘is daughter an ‘is city, t’ king knighted Georgie, an’ give ‘im t’ hand o’ t’ princess in marriage. So she became Mrs Taramosalata, an’ t’ king reluctantly paid f’ t’ wedding. ‘e didn’t really ‘ave onny choice as Georgie wer’ blackmailing ‘im wi t’ release o’ t’ dragon agayen. So t’ king also give Georgie a large part o’ ‘is wealth an’ fortune, not t’ keep ‘is beloved daughter in t’ style ter which she wer’ accustomed, but ter piss off an’ not darken ‘is dooar agayen. This Georgie invested in a chain of Souvlaki shops and Curry restaurants across Leeds an’ Bradford, wi’ ‘is new business partner an’ old mucker t’ dragon. (They’d actually met sum years previous at a military special ops briefin’ an’ ‘ad worked out t’ con atter watchin’ t’ good, t’ bad an’ t’ ugly on sky one neight.)
Together they wer’ responsible f’ inventing ‘Blue Dragon’ sauces an’ ‘Dragon Curry’ – which as aal Yorkshire men can testify is ‘otter than Vindaloo, Phaal or Tinderloo. In fact, tis t’ ‘ottest ring singe that’s ivver bin known ter man – an if tha breaks wind afterwards like, tha can set fire ter buses ooer strip wall paper in seconds. F’ that reason, it is served wi chilled bog roll in anticipation.
T’ king o’ Cyrene cud nivver bring issen t’ admit ‘ed bin ‘ad by a confident trickster, so t’ modern story o St. George an’ t’ dragon wer’ born. Ova monny years, George an’ t’ dragon repeated t’ con a number o’ times in different countries, which explains why ‘e is not only t’ patron saint o’ England, but also Canada, China, Greece, Russia, Portugal, Palestine, Ethiopia, Serbia, an’ Montenegro too. Appen there is even a country named atter him – an’ that’s Georgia, which is situated between Russia an’ Turkey.
So nah tha knows!
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