This is my 9-year-old Granddaughter's version. I need to apologise to her for me thinking that TORID was a word. She wrote her yarn before I realised my mistake:
Hi. I'm a caT and my owneR is forty and she works in a shop. Today is Sunday, her day off, and by the looks of it, it seems that she's in a real strop. She is in a bad mood because of the torid heat! It's been baking! I wish I didn't have this thick fur coat. Last night, I caught her up in the kitchen with a torch rummaging through the freezer looking for an ice pack.
This is my version:
AT Fawlty ToweRs Basil was dealing with Andrei who was checking out on his way back to his home in Romania. Basil was clearly building up to having another strop. Andrei had written a scathing review of the hotel on TripAdvisor in which he had described just what a torid time he'd had there. "That's not how you spell torrid", nit-picked Basil. "Well it is how I spell it", retorted Andrei, "but I can amend that word to the English spelling if you like! Look, I don't expect to have to clean my teeth whilst holding a torch; I can add that to the review as well, if you like", went on Andrei, realising that was yet another issued he'd yet put in the review. Just then Manuel was passing - Basil gave him a clip round the ear and said "I told you to fix the lights in Andrei's bathroom", shouted Basil, trying to shift the blame. "¿Qué", was Manuel's response. "Right", that's complaint number forty going into my TripAdvisor review - 'The manager beats his staff';", said Andrei forcefully, "you can post your bill to my Romanian address and I don't expect it to be any more than half what this bill says here". With that Andrei was on his way leaving. "I'm off to boil my head - you deal with the customers", Basil said to Sybil.
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