Piano for Sale

So hey, why don't you come over here and listen to this? So we's sitting at the Academy Bar and Eatery (or the Academy B&E, as they call it downtown) sometime after class. The place 's packed, we even need to get Brian [(?) the "tightass"] to go fetch a stool from off of the stage so we can sits in the other room. Who's we? Let me introduce yous. Here's Sue, she tells me she's a biker, and Erin, she's a pastor in North Kildonan. Over there at the table with his lady friend is Ivan. He works in the steel factory. So I orders a pizza and waits. Up on the stage the local poets are coming out and readin' their stuff. Bunch of pussies--those poets dancing around in their flower glades talking about the Winnipeg transit system like it's as universally significant as Macbeth. Pish! Tell those poets to go back to their boxes and leave the bars for us civilised folk. So my pizza finally arrives on a nice white plate--but--pishaw! there's a slice missing! What the 'eck?! How do yous forget a slice? So I looks at the gurl, she's a nice looking girl, 'eh, and she looks back at me and says "I dropped it on da floor". She's a nice girl too, she gave me a free hot chocolate. They make it real good with the whipped topping and some chocolate shavin's. So I listen to the crap onstage until this big ol' black dude comes to the front without any sheet to read from. And he beats us with his words like Roosevelt beat his dog, and wes all crying after he leaves the stage. And then comes my buddy from the other class, and he reads like a news anchor and wes all laugh. And Sue and Erin leave and I's finish off my HC, and it goes down real smooth, but it burns my tongue so I can't go up to the stage and speak. Good thing, because I would have been too lates to sign up anyway.