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Cathy collects and Brenda Calls

The newspaper was half in the bin and half out of the bin. It caught the warm summer breeze slightly and fluttered with a gentle crinkle.  The average ear-owner would not have heard it, but Cathy did.  For Cathy, the sound was seductive and she couldn't resist but move towards it.  With a quick look around to see that no one was watching, she reached in and took it out of the bin.  The Weatherfield Recorder - a fine journal, and in good condition.

She went back to Yasmin's with the paper proudly tucked under her arm.  No one was home, so Cathy was able to rush upstairs and place the paper in her carefully curated collection of newspapers.  She had almost 45,000 newspapers now and was running out of space.  The pizza boxes took up so much space, and they competed with the newspapers.
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Hyrone and Fizzgan were gazing into each other's eyes.  Hyrone loved Fizzgan, this much was clear.  Archiehope, gurgled in the background, and Hyrone was just about to go in for the kiss when the phone rang,  It was Brenda - the code named used by Hyrone's grandmama.

"One's calling to ask if that cardigan fitted you," she said.
"Yes, it's super soft and amazing," he replied. "Only Fizzgan doesn't like me wearing it too much as she says that I might snag it on the set flats."
"One sent it weeks ago, knitted by one's own lady-in-waiting on one's order.  One was expecting a quick call to thank one.  No phone call, but one saw you on television talking about being oppressed, depressed, destitute and inebriated.  Well being inebriated didn't do any harm to your great grandmama, and oppression, depression and destitution are good for one," said Brenda.
"Sorry grandmama. I will call more often.  I'm an utter emotional wreck and a failure.  Must run though. I'm opening the Jack Duckworth Ornithology Centre down t'red rec."
"He's opening an ornithology centre and he says he's failed.  You open an ornithology centre and you're a scientist," Brenda replied.  

She chuckled to herself before hanging up.  She loved her little allusions to television commercials.  Officially, of course, she didn't watch commercial TV. Too low brow.   But in secret, she had been watching it since Esso Blue was first advertised.

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Cathy sat on her bed and proudly looked at her collection of newspapers and pizza boxes.  She turned her head slightly and there was her collection of William and Kate memorabilia. Plates, mugs, dolls, knitted toys, William and Kate thrones, scrapbooks, keyrings, miniature portraits and (her prized possession) a sealed plastic box holding pencil shavings taken from the bin in the St Andrews tutorial room where William's manservant sharpened the royal pencil.  All was well in the world.  Apart from Elaine and Yasmin moaning about her collections of course.

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