Gimme dat gimme dat gimme gimme gimme dat gimme dat ding gimme dat gimme gimme dat gimme dat ding gimme gimme dat gimme gimme gimme dat ding.

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You reach the Hat and Feathers and go in to ask Bob if the Gingerbread Pie's been through there. "Hiya!" says Bob, "The usual?" "Hardly," you reply, "I'm after a Gingerbread Pie." "We don't do those in here, you know that, mate. Sandwiches, loads of them. Cheese and pickle, cheese and ham, cheese and salad, ham and pickle, ham and salad, cheese, pickle and ham salad..." "Yeah, I know, thanks Bob. No, I'm looking for one that's escaped from the Pie Shop. Has it been in this afternoon?" "What did it look like?" "Oh you know, sort of brown and pastry-ish." "What, like an eccle?" "Eh? Eccles aren't pastry-ish, they're furry. You should know that, Bob." "Oh... If only they'd tell you these things." "They do." "Oh, OK."

"So, this Gingerbread Pie. Have you seen it?" "No, sorry. Look, are you into giraffe hunting at all?" "Me, no, why would I be?" "We were just debating its merits. Grab a stool and give us your views." "I was just..." "Come on mate, we can't debate it without you. For God's sake, I didn't even know what an eccle was without your help!"

You begin to feel guilty for leaving Bob in the lurch and agree to stay and talk about giraffe hunting, thus losing the Gingerbread Pie. Oh well.

Incidentally, there's something about giraffe hunting on this page .

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