Grandpa's Great Escape Page #2

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reading you loud and clear.

Your mission has been a great

success, return to base.

Roger that!

Oh, hang on, hang on,

he's going to fall...

Oh. Well, I never.

Fall out, men.

Wing Commander, let me

escort you to your transport,

there's drinks in the officers' mess.

Yeah, just the job, Squadron Leader.

Oh, no, oh, no.

No, no, I'm fine. Shouldn't

have eaten that pickled egg.

Poor soul.

I do bring a lot of comfort to the

old and the infirm of the parish.

I'd love to help, if I could.

We just want what's best

for us, I mean -- him.

Yeah, I mean, there is the most

wonderful care home nearby,

Twilight Towers.

I don't think he'd like that.

Oh, no -- it's heavenly, it's

like Disneyland for coffin dodgers.

Grandpa's not going in a home.

Yeah, trouble is, it's

very often very, very full.

What a shame.

But then, I have a very good

relationship with Miss Dandy,

what runs Twilight Towers, she just

might be able to squeeze him in.

- Perfect.

- No!

No, we need to discuss

this as a family first.

Might be too late but, yeah, of course.

Oh, yeah, why don't you take

with you this, er, colour

brochure of Twilight Towers

and this is for you, boy.

They say it's a little... gonk.

It's got googly eyes...

.. just like your grandad.

That's lovely. Goodnight.

Oh, goodnight, God bless you,

God bless you, obviously.

It looks lovely,

it's more like a hotel than

somewhere you get put to die.

Charlady, this is the worst

roast beef I have ever tasted.

It's not roast beef,

it's fish pie, and for the last

time, I'm not your charlady.

Your son has something to tell you.

We had a new order of traffic

cones in, they're reflective.

Barry!

You know we all love you very much?

But the thing is, it...

Spit it out, airman, choppity-chop.

After what happened last week,

we thought it might be best if...

- If you came here to live with us.

- You what?

He could share my bedroom.

- Well, we can't cope with him here.

- Well, it's not a bad idea.

Er, he'd better not hog the bathroom,

- it takes me ages to crimp my hair

in the mornings. - I'm sorry, but...

I accept, though the

catering had better improve.

I'll tell the charlady.

Where am I going, again?

Our house, Dad. You're

coming to live with us.

On a trial basis.

Yeah, I live here, Peggy

won't know where I've got to.

Son?

Wing Commander...

.. due to enemy activity, the

air commander wants you to

lodge at alternative quarters.

Why didn't they just say?

Charity shop, sale, rubbish,

rubbish, rubbish, rub...

This is not rubbish.

Wing Commander? Let me

take you to the tuck shop.

Oh, jolly good.

Ah-ha, my two favourite customers,

Mr Bumting and Master Bumting.

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