The Six Million Dollar Moggie

Tommy's come over and we're watchin' telly like. Auld TV. Namely The Six Million Dollar Man. Oscar Goldman is gie'n Steve Austin the lowdown, as they say.

"It's a nice joab, tha, eh?" says Tommy.

"Wha is?"

"They wan thet Oscar Goldman's goat; tell me ah'm rang."

"Aye, doss joab, tha."

Eh puts oan his best American accent, which degrades as he gaes, and eh says, "Here you go, Steve, off on another mission. I'll just be sittin' here wi' mae feet up, wankin' tae the Miss America show; gie us a call when yeer doan, sunshine." We hae a guid laugh at tha.

Ah say, "They shood a named him Offski Goldman n aw, oon account ay the cunt’s nivir there whan ye need him."

Tommy ponders. "Goldman. Is tha a wee Jew name, d'ya think?"

"Dunno. Dinnae think ay it before. Ah spoze it it might be, noo ah think oan it."

"Hi, imagine the tae ay them, him and Henry Kissinger baeth, doon oan thir knees in they Oval Oaffis, prayin' wi Richard fuckin’ Nixon."

"Oan their knees, mebbe, but nae prayin'. How'd ya think eh goat that joab in they fearst place?" We baeth git a laugh oota tha.

Tommy says, "D'ya think eh ivir sends im on Jew missions, like?"

"Wha d'ya mean?"

Bad American accent time agin. "Here, Steve, fuck off n save Israel. Yon Arabs is a it agin."

We hae anuther laugh and ah say, "Aye, The Six Million Dollar Man: The Loast Episodes."

"Hi, wot abit The Sex Million Dollar Man, than?" he says.

"Wha?"

"Y'ken, like, they gie him a mechanical willie? Imagine tha, eh? Picture 'im rabbitin' awee a Lindsay Wagner, like..." And Tommy thrusts oot his hips and gaes like, "Na-na-na-na-na-naaa! Hop oan, missus! Zero tae sixty in five seconds flat!"

"Aye, ah've heerd tha abit you!"

"Piss oaf."

Oor focus retuns tae the telly. We watch in silence fir a few moments. Ah say, "Rudy Wells is def'nitly Jewish, though."

"Aye."

I say, "Speakin' a bionic willie, ah reckon they come close tae havin' tae gie im wan."

"Aye?"

"Well, they accident ripped his right leg oaf, like. Tae inches tae the left and they'da bin gie'n the boy bionic nuts at they very least, ken?"

Tommy roars. "Bionic nuts! Gie us a break!"

Ah say, "Tha be great, though. Some wee dafty gies ya they boot a the fitba, and winds up breakn his own fit, like."

"Aye, tha'd be nice."

"Mah moggie's go them," ah say.

"Wha, bionical testicles? Are ye havin' they piss?"

"Nae, I'll be havin' the scotch n soda, mesel, bit please yersel. Seriously, though, eh daes. Well, they're nae bionic, ah mean, they dinnae do onnythin. Tha's jist they point. They're placeholders, like, fae they wans they took aff'im. So eh disnae miss them sae much."

"Oh, aye," says Tommy, wistful like. Than eh says, "The Six Million Dollar Moggie!"

We baeth bust oot. Ah say, "Right, Tiddles, awee ya gae, oof tae save the wearld wi yeer plastic testes!"

N tha's hoo eh goat his name, like.