“Hey, did you catch that X-Factor thing on the telly last night?”
“Ya, was rubbish. They’re all rubbish. Crap singers and cry-babies looking for a quick buck. Their stories make our lives look like something inside of a fantasy novel. All magical.”
“Ya, know all that but what about the little girl with the voice. She was eight! Sprightly thing she was.”
“She was dressed like a honey monster! Her parents have a helluva lot to answer for, don’t ya think?”
“I dunno, I think she has a great voice, and Simon Cowell just LOVED her.”
“He loved the idea of her, you see those dollar signs in his eyes? He’s crazy, milking the American cash-cow like no-one I know. And THOSE PANTS!”
“Bet you wish you knew some fella like that though. Be nice to have a cool car and a house instead of a caravan don’tcha think.”
“That’s who we are dude, travellers through ‘n’ through. Known knuckle-draggers… haha.”
“But just try and imagine the money, the freedom. Our horse could live like a king.”
“And I bet you reckon Cowell could make him sing ‘n’ all.”
“Hey, he did it with a dog!”
“Shite, ya got me there.”

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