Pickup from the Paintbox

The dude wore plum coloured tights
a wig like crusty beige blancmange
He helped his friend
fumbling awkward with the door
Six foot foor
covered in chains and leather
topped off with a Nazi helmet

Where to?  I asked

Can you take us to Muswell Hill?
came the campest soprano reply
It was Saturday night
and the Nazi never stopped giggling
telling his friend to relax
so I kept one eye on the rear view
mirror
case they left more than a glove behind