I met my uncle Albert, down at Asda, in aisle three; he got there in a Mazda, jus' a smidgen after me, said he'd traversed Sainsburys, Tesco Liddle n the Spar, but not one o' them flogged Caviar Truffles or Foie gras.
He sidled past the pork pies streaky bacon turkey thighs a headin for the french fries n forsaken knock down buys, shimmied 'round the ankle biters; expectant mums to be, popin pills for bloated ills in the haberdashery.