Preamble ...
... postamble?

The Doaks, Mah Faimly an Ithers. Been a bit o a miserable time, these past few months. Wife's escaped fae th hospital, no afore time. So ah feel like a wee bit o a laugh an a greet. So ah'm gaun tae introduce ye tae th freends an neebours. Ah h'd tae change a few names (Y'll understaund whey), but th rest o it wis exactly hoo it wis. Ah'm telt that ah should gie yis a warnin. Pit doon onny hot drinks or spirits yis have got in yer haunds. Dae say ye werenae telt. Yev probably noticed that there's a wee bit o eccentricity about me. Wi mah faimly, it's no surprisin. Oan Scotlands People, ah usually talk aboot thame that's passed on. Let me tell ye aboot some o the live anes. Mah cousins. There's Rena who's party trick (efter a few) is tae stand on her heid, and spin! Ahm bein dead serious aboot this. An then there's mah cousin Erchie... Wan new year, they wis a stayin at mah auntie Chrissie's. Erchie wis growin marijoanna plants ootside the front windie. Auntie Chrissie thocht they wis Michaelmas daisies - she's no that guid at gairdenin! Roond aboot 3 o'clock, Erchie and his pals were dressed in drag (no, ah dae ken why, either - pit it doon tae the drink!). It started t dawn on them that th drink wis runnin oot. Bit o a stooshie, that. "We'll hae to go fur a cairry-oot" says Erchie. "Oan new years morning! Whaur'll we get that?" "The co-op. It's aye got drink!" So, aff they aw went - in drag - roond tae the co-op. Wisnae open, of coorse. Sos they started arguin. Got a bit oot o haund. And Erchie solved the problem by throwin his pal through th windie! Imagine! An off-licence wi a picture windie. No fur long, though. Stockin up wi drink, th happy band sets off up the road. Alerms ringing. Erchie in his pink dress blawin kisses tae passers by. Singin a th auld favourites. 'Ten guitars','Nobody's Chi-yeld'. No whit ye'd caw discreet. Shair enuff, they're hardly in the door five minutes, when ther's the polis at th door. Important detail - the front door's at th side o th hoose. "Open up in there! There's some wimmen we want t talk tae!" As the polis are hammerin at th door, Erchie an his pals are scratchin their heids, lookin fur a wey oot. Inspiration! Oot the front windie! As auntie Chrissie is lettin the polis in the door, a bunch o paralytic Miss World rejects are clamberin oot the windie. Tryin hard no tae get their frocks caught in the haundles on th windie. Their wimmen wid kill them if they got their guid frocks torn. Clinkin an mutterin, they hide doon ahint the marijoanna plants, tryin hard no tae giggle and tryin tae blaw awa th reek frae their fags sos naebody'll notice. Somebody shuts the windie. "We're lookin fur a bunch o wimmen that broke intae th co-op" says the polis. "We ken th leader's a big, ugly wifie wi a pink frock. We ken they were headin up this wey!" They searched th hoose, but they fund neither the drink nor the robbers. They were gey puzzled at th time. Jist coulnae figure it oot. Word must've got aroond, though, cause th next week they come up an dug up aw auntie Chrissie's Michaelmas daisies, an took them aw awa in a van. Never did fund the big wifie in pink.