The Kasbah

I awoke aboard a Sopwith Camel wearing only a loincloth with a splitting headache and sore backside, some of the groundcrew detachment looking at me as though I had two heads...it wasn't until later in the bath that I realised in fact I indeed did have two heads....but not in the biblical sense.....having finished all the gin we decided to abandon the airfield and made off on foot.
Despite being extremely drunk I managed to navigate the dead sea on foot and arrived with the most fearsome callouses.
One man drowned and another was left with a severe limp.
On entering the port city of Aqaba...I was accosted by a chap called Mohammed who introduced me to a full bosomed bellydancer called...Mohammed...I began to smell a rat.
They had the same eyes you see....and big hands...
Which brings me to the subject of crocodiles in bottles a variation on the ship, you see the crocodile is introduced to the bottle at a very young age and fed on a diet of weevils and hard tack biscuits.
How can someone with such big hands perform this 'tour de force'? I wondered out loud, unfortunately he took this last comment to heart.
I soon made off across the kasbah throwing women and children in behind me.....Mohammed hot on my heels wielding a rather nasty looking Scimitar
I managed to evade capture by diguising myself as hubly bubly man and spent the next few hours in a state of bilissful unawareness thanks to the contents of a rather large Hookah pipe
Slightly the worse for wear I was uncovered by Mohammed and his growing entourage, I was soon cornered and resorted to my school days going at them with everything the Marquis of Queensbury had to offer and some other tricks that I learnt in the dorm after hours
It took me three weeks at a back street surgeons place in the souq to remove the Hookah pipe from a rather embarrasing place...