" ... and this boy's thoughts turned lightly to" - big poke in the air with the gold club - "so he says to his dad, 'I want to get married to the girl next door, Dad.'
" ' Ho, hum,' says his dad. "I've got news for you, son. When I was your age, I used to get me leg over - ' "
Roars, shrieks, hoots; but all so much titillation without any substance, I tell you, because he gave them a shocked look, pursed his lips together, shook his golf club in reproof.
"Filthy minds, some of you have," he grieved in parenthesis. Renewed hoots and shrieks.
"What I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted ..."
That was his other catch phrase.
... was, I used to get me leg over the garden wall -'
He made a fierce lunge in the air with his golf club and looked around, working his eyebrows as if to defy misinterpretation.
'... and, cut a long story short, you can't marry the girl next door, son, on account of she's your sister.'
The air turned blue. Mothers forced reluctant children outside, bribing with ice-cream.
"So this boy buys a bike" - he straddled his golf club, mimicked pedalling, renewed roaring - "and pedals off. Pedals, I said, Missus; what d'you think I said? He pedals off to Hove."
Wonderful diction. Grandma herself couldn't have done more with that long 'O'.
"He comes back, he says to his father: 'I've met this nayce girl from Hove, Dad.' 'Hove?' says Dad. 'Sorry to say, son, I frequently hove to in Hove when I was your age and - '"
He halted, working his eyebrows, manipulating his golf club. Say no more. They laughed until they cried.
"This poor boy, he buys himself a day return, he goes up to Victoria, he meets a girl under the clock. Clock, I said, Missus. But his father says: 'We had trains in my young day, son ...'
"The boy goes into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Big sigh. His mum says: 'You've got a face as long as a - '"
Eyebrows. Golf club. Roars.
"What I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, was ... as long as a fiddle!"
They pounded the floorboards with their feet.
" 'Looks like I'll never get married, Mum.' 'Why's that, son?' He told her all about it, she says: 'You just go ahead and marry who you like, son -' "
Split-second timing. That pause. Perfect.
' 'E's not your father!' "
All them DNA-tests paid by Max Clifford and co. really spoil the fun.