Nearly as cunning but not quite as good looking as a rat, that's Worzel, and If I had any sense I would have stayed well clear of him, but I kept going back to hear his yarns.
“Yeah, poaching was to Arty as meth is to one of them addicts. I tried that meth once, don’t know what all the fuss is about?”
When we got into our sleeping bags at night, the switch went on, and my thoughts of murdering him in his sleep were soon forgotten.
“If I were you Worzel, I’d burn that collar. I suppose you’ve digested the rest of the evidence by now?”
I wish you could have sat beside me at the fire as he enchanted us with the art of his storytelling.