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Mrs Pratt and The Punk

Ranez.Ru > Помощь в учебе абитуриентам и студентам > Студенту > Английский язык > Topics advanced (ПУПР) >

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Mrs Pratt purposely chose the empty no-smoking compartment and sat down, opening her bag to check her make-up. As she finished pressing an 'm' into her lips, she suddenly stopped, lipstick poised in mid-air, and then began searching through her bag. First she removed all her make-up instruments, then her 'Our Hearts' magazine, then her handkerchief and gloves and spray perfume. When she still hadn't found what she was looking for she turned the bag upside down on the floor. "Phew," she exclaimed, as she clutched her train ticket, and began tossing her belongings back into the bag. She was still reorganizing her wares when she felt someone sit down next to her and hand her scarf she'd placed on the adjoining seat. As she looked up she was horrified to find a punk smoking and staring out the window. Mrs Pratt grimaced and took a deep breath. Then she began coughing in the foul air. The punk glanced up, noticed the no-smoking sign and extinguished his cigarette.

"And it's about time," Mrs Pratt commented. "This is a no-smoking compartment. It's stuffy enough as it is without people breaking the rules. But I don't suppose that means anything to you, does it?"

The punk reached into his pocket and unwrapped a piece of chewing gum.


Ranez.Ru: Mrs Pratt and The Punk


"No," she answered for him, watching him slip the gum into his mouth. "Tell me," she said, looking at him as if he were a perfect example of Filthy Young Man in a wax museum, "how long does it take to get yourself all dolled up like that, hmm? And your jeans. Just look at those jeans. You mean to say you go out and buy perfectly good jeans and then you rip them to shreds on purpose?! Well, you missed a few spots. What's the matter, run out of safety-pins?"

The punk watched one grey building after another whiz by.

"A half-drowned pelican would look a darn sight prettier than you. I tell you a secret, for free: This is a train, not a zoo! Just look at yourself, full of holes. Holes in your shirt, holes in your socks, holes in your shoes. What is this, Swiss cheese?!" Mrs Pratt turned to him, expecting an answer when something shiny caught her eye. "Oh and I see. Holes in your ears as well. A lovely earring. What is it?" she asked, moving up for a closer look. "Authentic tin?"

The punk chewed resolutely on his gum. . "What's the matter, can't you hear through the holes in your head? Ha. Tell you another little secret. You could do with a bath. B-A-T-H? You may not realize it, but my generation-fought wars, and for what? So that lazy filthy riff-raff like you could grow up and sponge off society! You kids look as though you'd been dragged out of rubbish bins. No wonder your kind spread like weeds. Goodness gracious. What's this I see? Make-up on your face?! Now I have seen everything. You think that just because you wear a leather jacket, you are tough? In my days fellows who wore make-up on their faces weren't tough ... anything but tough. Scum they were."

The punk put a foot up on the seat in front of him.

"Get your feet off that seat Other passengers have to sit there. Next thing you know you'll be digging into those filthy pockets for a knife to deface the public property which decent people like me have worked hard to build. GET THOSE FEET OFF THE SEAT, DO YOU HEAR?"

The punk did not move his feet and continued calmly chewing his gum.

I intend to call the conductor, he'll know what to do with you. How dare you sit there chewing like a cow? You are a disgrace. A disgrace, do you hear? What's the matter with you anyway? Are you ... on drugs? That's it, he's on drugs. And where do you get the money to buy that stuff? I am sure you have to grab a few handbags every day. Well," Mrs Pratt declared, holding onto her bag, "you're not going to grab mine."

When he still hadn't moved his feet or grabbed her bag, she said, "Now I'm going to call the conductor. You are probably getting a free ride as well. Have you ever seen a ticket in your whole life? Have you ever seen a ticket? Well, look here," she said, opening up her bag. "I'll show you. This is a ticket." Mrs Pratt waved it before his nose. "This ticket I bought with my hard-earned money. This is my own ticket purchased ... "

Before she could continue her explanation the punk suddenly came to life, grabbed the ticket and stuffed it into his mouth. It took him two seconds to swallow it.


"TICKETS, PLEASE," a conductor's voice called out. "Madam, may I see your ticket?"

Ranez.Ru: Mrs Pratt and The Punk


Too shocked to utter a sound, Mrs Pratt just stared at the punk in amazement. With a smile on his lips he watched the grey buildings pass the window. As if in a trance she said, "He ate it."

"He ate it. Right, lady. May I see your ticket, please?"

"I'm telling you," she said, her senses returning, "I had a ticket, but this hooligan comes in here spreading his bacteria all over the place ... "

"Could I see your ticket," the conductor said, addressing the punk.

" ... smoking, messing up the seats ... "

"Thank you."

" ... and then on top of everything else he eats my ticket."

"He eats your ticket. Now why would he do a thing like that when he's got a perfectly fine ticket himself? See?" The conductor waved the punk's ticket before her.

"I can't believe it."

"I can't believe it either. Look, do you or do you not have a ticket?".

"Don't you believe me? I'm a responsible citizen, a taxpayer for 30 years. I had a ticket which I bought and paid for with my own hard-earned money ... "

"So let's see it."

" ... but then that... whoever it is ... because I tell you I don't know whether it's a he or a she or an it... yes, it's an IT, IT ATE MY TICKET, I TELL YOU!"

"Right. You will be given a large fine."


"Please get off the train at the next station."

"WHA... "

"And next time, lady, don't harass the other passengers."



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