Indoctrinate to assimilate?

OR Listen carefully - I will say this many times

And so, we begin the process of indoctrination:

Tank: "Tha's gorra pin thee lugs back son, and keep tha trap shut, gorr'it?"

Mookin was perplexed and turned to Squashy, in a desperate search for inspiration.

Mookin: "Please, Mr Squash. What 'ees Meester boss Tank saying?"

Squashy, in Lecturer mode: "What Tank is trying to say is 'please listen carefully......"

Tank looked across at Squashy.

Tank: "TRYlN to say? TRYIN. There's no chissing 'tryin' abart it........"

Mookin: "Ah, Abart, I hears my name boss Tank. I listen werry hard."

Squashy: - (more schoolroom chat): "You mean 'listen carefully', Mookin, not hard.

Tank: Thwack! (nobody was actually hurt during this fictional interlude)

Squashy's ear thrummed from the effect of Tank's extremely efficient sideways swipe.

Tank: "Wor that a careful enough reminder that I'm talkin, professor?"

Mookin: "Oh, Meester Squash. You is Professor!"

NOTE: Mookin, being from Lithumania, was used to educated professionals, working in manual jobs.

MOOKIN: "In home, I am as well professional. I play First Violin in national state orchestra....."

Tank: (not a follower of the traditional Arts): "That's reet nice, but thall only be playin third fiddle in this band, gorrit?"

Mookin: "No boss Tank. You keep calling me Gorrit, when name ees Mookin, and I hard worker, not fiddling."

Narrative: Tank was beginning to lose the plot, but bravely ploughed on.

Tank: "Yer on the 'A' team nah lad, and I'm t'conductor. In't van, thall sit int third seat, Gorrit?"

Mookin: "Mookin boss Tank......not Gorrit

Tank: "All reet, all reet, Muckin!"

Mookin: "I seet number tree...."

Squashy: "Oh aye," interjected Squashy, "Stinka will sit with you, cos he's used to sitting with me."

Mookin: "Who Stinka, Meester Squash. He sound Lithumanian?"

Squashy: "Well, he might well be, but to me he's the best friend a lad could 'ave."

Mookin: "But no room for four big boys in cab?" said Mookin.

Squashy: "Oh aye Mook, when one's a dog there's room......"

Mookin: "Stinka is dog?"

Squashy: "Oh aye...."

Mookin: "Oh no Meester Squash, I cannot share seat with dog. Dog not clean."

Narrative: Squashy was not one to be overly sensitive, but in Stinka's case, who he loved dearly, he could be quite touchy and easily lapsed into the vernacular when upset.

Squashy:"Nah then Mook, don't be a wazerk! Thas got nowt to be snobby abart wi Stinka! He mayhap reeks a bit, but no muttley can be a berrer mucker to a little scrote like me than that little

scrapper!"

Note: When Squashy was prodded, he easily lapsed into the vernacular.

Not a little agitated, Mookin turned to Tank.

Mookin: "Boss Tank, I no understand Mr Squash."

Tank: Tank felt a little vindicated regarding Mookin's earlier reference to his own shortcomings in the verbal dexterity department.

Tank: "Ay, its not easy pal. Nah if tha asks him t'make a cross-word clue on it, thall understand him reet enough."

Mookin: "Mr Squash ees having cross word with Mookin?"

Narrative: Mookin sat silently, thinking to himself, (translated from Lithumanian, for those not familiar with the language),

Mookin to self: 'Six years of English at school, two at University a diploma from the Oxford Foreign and Alien Languages, (OFAL), and I still do not understand these people!"

This is the perpetual nature of communicating across the nations.