The sun was setting on the lush green pastures of Kenilworth Square. Every now and again a bush would move a few inches forward, behind it an Indian, a Plainsman, a Buckaroo, sometimes even a Hillybilly!
In his Georgian-Victorian ran chouse, Dancer Doyle, "The dude with the Dulcet Tone", sharpened his pearl handled corkscrew. His spurs jingled as he tore the unsuspecting cork with savage fury from a bottle of plonk, which was cunningly disguised as Pouilly Fuisse 1956.
"A toast to all you hombres and all you Gnashville Knockers! Senors! I have joined the band of great country singers at last! Next week I sing in the GRAN OLE' CORK OPRY HOUSE, and after that the world is muh oyster!"
The voice rang out across the square . . . Every bush came to a stunned halt. It was true! They had just heard it from his own lips! Country songs sung with that incomparable voice!
"We'll get you by the Tom T. Halls!" they roared in unison with a double track of girls voices going "Ooh, Aahh, etc."
"You ex-folk singers jes' can't muscle in on this here country territory! Don't think you can use no second hand HANK LOCKLIN suit and boots to make an impression on us country music lovers!"
The chant continued...
"STOP" came a deep loud voice. Heads turned towards the sky and the great voice sang from the clouds.
"BUENOS NOCHES AMIGO BUENOS NOCHES MY FRIEND".
YOUR NAME'S DANNY DOYLE, YOU'LL SUCCEED IN THE END!
"Very soon mi amigo you will be so famous that you will be having your photograph taken with your arm around yourself!" Slinking into the bushes deep in gloom the crowd fell back, hushed by the great voice in the sky where the ghostly tumble weeds blow.
"KEEP COOL COMPADRES" ... Dancer sang.
"The land is good and the yield is plentyful and after I take care of Martha and the kids, you can have what's left. And by the way, if you're eatin' out tonight folks try a bottle of 1956. It was a good year for plonk!"