Compost Mentis.

It would be a lucky person indeed, in my neck of the woods (King Street), who doesn't have a neighbour that that hat fits!
Cheese arse swept, how are some people so oblivious to the fact that they live in a residential area, that they think it's perfectly acceptable to run a power cable out to their big white van, at 8pm, and set about a dustbin lid, inside it, with one of those air spanners that Quick-fit fitters use to rip the shit out of your wheel trims?
At least, that's what it sounded like.
When I'd finally had enough and went out to gently rap upon his back door, intending a polite rebuttal of his kind offering of 110 decibels of racket, he was emerging from his van, red, sweaty and panting.
"Do you mind." I asked him, "I can't hear the planes going over, while you're doing that!"
He looked at me, a little quizzically, and said, in broken English "Sorry, sorry, is finish now."
I'm still not sure what it was that he'd finished, and I'm fairly certain that I don't want to know, but if it happens again, he'll be using that spanner for the purpose that God intended it! Probably on all four wheels!

It'll most likely be weeks before our foxes come back from the Westcliff.