Bloomin' fire brigade! Asking f'r a forty pound increase in their salary! What the 'ell do they take us tax payers for? Bloody idiots, that's what, 'scuse my Welsh. When we was young there were fires everywhere what with the bombs and the 'igh tar cigarettes. And did you ever 'ear the firemen complain about it? Not on your Nelly, they didn't! They just got on with their jobs for three and sixpence a year and a tin of Bully Beef f'r Christmas. They knew 'ow to behave back then! None of this union rubbish! Scourge of the country unions is! Mrs Thatch knew 'ow t' deal with these union upstarts. Kick 'em where it 'urts and make 'em respect their betters!

Nowadays fire brigading's much easier than it used to be, and all. They just all 'ang around in the nuddy these days posin' for calendars and shavin' their chests (must be a fire risk in their job, 'aving lots of 'air and bein' all 'irksoot, I s'pect). What d' they need £400 an hour for to dangle their privates in front of a camera, 'scuse my Austrian? Bone idle, good f'r nothin' layabouts! What the government need t' do is reintroduce National Service. That'd sort those queers out! Y' don't see the soldiers 'oo 'ave taken over the fire engines complainin' any, do y'?! And they aren't shaggin' one another's bottoms neither! I'm ninety-eight years old and it just isn't good enough! The next thing y' know they'll be 'aving pakis in the fire brigade! And then where will we be?