MAISY: Well, duck, here we are. Sun, sea, sand and.....I'll kill that little sod if hits me with that beach ball again.
DAISY: Relax. Just chill.
MAISY: Chill? In this heat? I myself personally...Ow! Get lost shortarse and take that blasted ball with you. Kits these days have no manners. That little polecat and his pal are a blinking nuisance. I saw them earlier, laughing at my bathing apparel.
DAISY: Surely not.
MAISY: They obviously don't know who I am. It's quite impossible to make a lifestyle statement in beachwear.
DAISY: Not for everyone, perhaps.
MAISY: Woderyermean? By the way, duck. I'll have another of these, please? 'These, please'! I'm a poet and I don't know it! He he he!
DAISY: Good gracious. What is it?
MAISY: It's from the beach bar. Orange thingammy. Curassow. And lemonade. But not much. Just a touch. There I go again! Gemmyanotherone.
DAISY: OK. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself.
MAISY: Well, needs must. It's not exactly Cap Ferret but I'm bearing up. And talking of baring, did you see that Goldi's bikini? Not that it was exactly visible. Without wishing to be uncharitable...
DAISY: Your Curacao.
MAISY: Ta, duck. What was I saying? Oh yes, that bikini. Tinsy winsy wasn't in it, and nor was much else for that matter. It just goes to show that fashionwise less is definitely not always more. I myself personally....
DAISY: Do you want a paddle. The sea looks very inviting.
MAISY: Yerallrite. I could do with a little perambulator.
MAISY: Bless you, duck. You can't seem to shake off that cold. We'd better stay here and have another drink.
DAISY: Look at those surfing silver mitts. Aren't they amazing?
MAISY: Where? Lesstakeacloserlook. Whoops! The sea's a bit wobbly.
DAISY: It's not the only one. Look out! Mind that little polecat on the inflatable.
DAISY: Never mind, duck, you always wanted to make a big splash.
(From Ferrets First - June/July 2003 - #12)