Dumb Friendly Bombs

Oi oi!  Easy geeza.  Wel... Gah.   Wel... GAH sorry mate, it's the fuckin fallout innit, makes ya gag, like.  Anyways, like I woz sayin, welcome to free Hackney, the center of the civilised world.  Nice ta meet ya, wot's ya name?  Safe.  That's a good English name that.  What?  mine?  Ah soz mate, yeah, proper rude, that.  Bad manners.  My name's Colin.  Keep it stush for the mo tho mate, we ain't quite safe this near the cordon.  No time for gabberings an the like yet.  Get in the back and I'll take us somewhere we can talk.
So, like I was sayin, welcome to freedom, sunshine.  Nice to ave ya.  This is the welcome committee, EDL military wing.  That's Bob, Mark, Phil, James, George, Mildred and the guy in the corner's Stu the Prof, though we think he's on his way out from the sickness.  He don't wake up much these days.
You're fuckin honoured to be joining us, ya know? We're the originals. It was us wot done it, back in the day: the Friendly Bombs, I mean.  Set one off myself, true to God; right in the middle of Hoxton Square.  What?  Yeah mate, yeah.  Course I will.  Take a pew, I'll fill ya in good, like.
Well, it was back in two thousand and eighteen we decided to do summat.  And ya know wot it were like back then. Fucking Muslamic arseholes blowing things up left, right and center and people doing fuck all about it.  Bloody Poles taking all our jobs and the blacks running drug gangs in our communities.  Fuckin immigrants comin' over 'ere thinkin we owe 'em summat cos they're fleeing some fuckin war wot's none of my fuckin business.  It weren't fuckin right were it? Why's it my problem if you're gonna be killed cos some Osama Bin Wanker's in charge of ya country?  Get ya own bloody gaff innit?  Where's a good upstanding white Englishman meant to live in 'is own yard, right?  Right!  So, we decided to do summat about it.
You ever 'eard that poem, 'Slough' by John... aah whassis name?  Jesus, hang on.  Oi, Mark...  MARK!  Whazzat bloody poet's name again?  Ah yeah,  Betjeman.  Yeah John Betjeman.  Nah I never 'eard of 'im neither.  Oo fuckin listens to that crap.  S'for queers and liberals that shit.  Not my thing at all.  But anyways, Stu over there.  He's dead clever, like.  Reads books and all that.  It were 'im that made the devices and gave us the idea to call 'em 'Friendly Bombs'.  Apparently it's a line from a poem but we thought it would be proper good if we 'ad it ourselves.  Adds a bit of class dunnit.
Yeah, so anyway.  We decided to 'ave a clear-out.  Get a white English neighbourhood for good upstanding Englishmen.  So we made some enquiries through some Ulster boys we knew and got some slag reactor product through some Uzbekistani contacts they 'ad.  That's when Stu set about makin us some dirty bombs.
You know the rest.  Set six of the fuckers off, right here in Hackney.  Proper coordinated like Al Qaida.  Playing Mustafa at 'is own game right? Stu said it would take six cos one would only keep 'em out for a year
Anyways we knew that would flush the area out and that's wot 'appened.  The government called C.O.B.R.A and cordoned off the 'ole area.  Blanket ban on any fucker comin in, part from the security gangs for the next ten years. ' Fuckin bingo' thinks I.
And that's when we moved in.  Slipped in past the patrols and set ourselves up 'ere.  England for the English right back in the 'eart of London.  We let another off every now an then to keep the area clean.  And now you're one of us.  Like I said, welcome to Free Hackney, West Ham quarter.  Don't mind that burning sensation, it's just the radiation.  S'a small price at pay for a white republic innit.  We're... Gah, soz, 'ang on a mo, GAH. We're free white and English 'ere.  Just don't go out West or Saath more than two blocks, there's Millwall and Chelsea firm there that'll shoot ya quick as look at ya.  Want a cuppa tea?