Elvis Smethwick – X factor talent scout.

                                                                  Universitty of the Top Shops
                                                     Year 2
                                                     History with art history.

Dear Mr Pewtin,
            I see you can sing, in English, while playing the piano.  My mum is not surprised. ‘He’s the leader of Russia, Elvis, he’s bownd to be like a one man britains got talent or someone offf the X Factor.  Look at the size of Russia.’  So I did.  Russia is massiv.  If my blow up globe did not have a whole in it, Russia would be all round the top under the glue and the cola stain, it’s massiv.

I also kno you can ride a hors with nothing on from the waste down and a quad bike.  Also you can shoot a gun. And, it says in the papers, all of them, that you have an English teacher, who taught you Blueberry Hill, a song.  Also it says you did the gig for sick children which is a good thing.  Mum says if you can put up shelvs she would marry you when the decree comes thruogh (if anyone can find my dad – hihgly unlikely.)

Anyhow I would like to draw your attentoin to another child in need, well not a child, a student.  Yes it is me.  My goverment has decided I will have to find nine thousand pounds for tewition fees.  £900000000000!  9 thousand pounds.  The £ shop X 9 thousand.  It’s a massiv amount no matter how you spell it.  It’s ridiculuos!  The point of getting an education is so you can get a good job to get money.  If you could get 9 thousand pounds, you wouldnt need a job, youd already have 9 thousand pounds.

If I had 9 thousand pounds I wouldnt need to be at the University of the Top Shops, I could be at Oxfam or Cambridge.  This is wrong.  I am the son of a worker (part time) and I am funding my educatoin with my tutor, Mr Ahmed by doing other peoples paper rounds when they dont turn up and paying Mr Ahmed my pocket money and my mum sends him a packed lunch every day.  This is wrong. (Not the packed lunch, my mum does a good packed lunch if you loose the lettuce).  Its enuogh to cause another Russian revolution, in fact I am already revolting and would be out on the streets now if I didnt have a cold.

I have a proposel.  I kno you fly all over the world, so if you could let me kno when you are flying passed here I will lay on an open air concert for you to perform at.  To benefit local students.  I have worked it all out.  The veneu will be the bit of grass with the notice ‘No Ball Games’ where we play football.  We can get about forty of us on there at once with no danger to the shrubb.  Mr Ahmed would let you have the office at the back of the shop for a changing room to get your top off.  I think you should open with ‘Blueberry Hill’ we do not have a piano but there are free penny wistles on the latest edition of ‘the musical part work, week by week build your own orchestra’.  We do not have a quad bike for you to ride or a hors but if you can master a skatebord we can see you right.  I thought you could skate down the ramp, singing and to finish I have adapted a song for you from a british song ‘The hokey Cokey’ but done as you are dancing that Russian dance where you skwat down and fling your legs out, quickley and juggling with balalaikas. Or, probably, the hand drums off the next issue of the musical part work or the conduct your own orchestra batons off issue 4 free with issue 3.  Here is the song for your English teacher to teach you (if she could come with you she could teach me while you are performing, especailly if she knos anything about Classical  Greek art, module one.)

The Hokey Cokey.

You put your bare chest in 
They get the cameras out 
You borrow a gun
And you wave it all about
You ride a hors and quad bike
And you look so cool
Thats what its all about
HOI!

And if you can have a word with our goverment about educatoin and the masses and what happend in history if you do not give them there rights to knoledge, that would be a help.

Sinserely

Elvis Smethwick

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JaneLaverick.com – fiction with a hint of desperation.

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