Heavy Duty Walkies

I live in a block of flats in South London where most of the neighbours know each other. I’ve been explaining this to my friend who has just moved in as a flatmate. 

There’s a knock on the door about 9 PM.

Flatmate: “Who’s knocking at this hour?!”

Me: “Oh! That’s Mariusz. He’s the Polish bloke from 302. He’ll be here to pick up Strudel.”

Strudel is my Corgi.

Flatmate: “Why is he here for Strudel?”

Me: “Mariusz likes evening walks, and he likes dogs, so he likes taking Strudel for a walk around the estate. Open the door and introduce yourself.”

My flatmate opens the door and is presented with an absolute hulk of a man. I should have warned him that Mariusz is 6’3″, broad, and looks like he was carved out of cliff rocks by the Baltic Sea.

Mariusz: “Ah, you are new friend I was informed of. Nice to meet you.”

Mariusz then calls into the flat, as Strudel runs to greet him out of habit and routine.

Mariusz: “[My Name], I take dog for large s*** now.”

Both dog and giant disappear down the corridor, with my flatmate staring at me, looking for an explanation.

Me: “…Oh yes, and he also has a way with words…”