Page 31 of Come Fly With Me

Betty types:Hello? Is anybody there? #Betty

Betty: Nothing’s happening. Nobody is twerping back.

Harry: Tweeting. Try a different hashtag. That’s how people find stuff on Twitter.

Betty types:# # Hell?

Betty: Damn it.

Betty types:I meant Hello. #

Harry: You can’t just do a hashtag on its own. It needs something beside it. And if it’s more than one word, you need to put them all together. Like this.

Harry types:#BettySaysHello

Betty (looking at Harry as though he’s a few slices short of a loaf): People waste their time on this?

Harry: It’s fun once you get into it. Try a longer message with a different hashtag.

Betty (shaking head in disgust) types:Anybody out there seen under Grunt’s kilt? I have and it was bloody impressive. He has a piercing through his willy and it looks sore. I’ve been wondering about the hygiene of something like that, it doesn’t seem sanitary. Does anybody out there know if it is? Hello Twipper? Does anybody know about willy piercings? Hello? #willypiercingsongrunt

Betty (pressing the Tweet button): It’s no’ twerting. Why is it no’ tweping?

Harry: You’ve got too many characters. You need to make it shorter.

Betty: Characters? I’m only talking about Grunt. That’s one bloody character.

Harry: Not people, words. Your tweet’s too long.

Betty: Then why didn’t you say that in the first place?

Betty deletes some words until:Anybody out there seen under Grunt’s kilt? He has a piercing through his willy and it looks sore. I’ve been wondering about the hygiene of something like that, it doesn’t seem sanitary. Does anybody out there know if it is? #willypiercingsongrunt

Harry: That should be fine. Press Tweet.

Betty (presses Tweet and stares at the screen): There’s no reply. How do we know if people have read it?

Harry: You don’t. You just need to wait.

Betty (frowning so hard her eyes almost disappear): If I wanted to shout from a mountain and hope somebody heard and shouted back, I could have climbed Nevis.

Harry: Um…I don’t think you could have climbed Ben Nevis, but maybe you could get a chopper to drop you off on top.

Betty: Do you have proof of that genius IQ of yours? Can I see it?

Harry: I don’t understand.

Betty: Didnae think you would. There’s still no reply to my twit.

Harry (making a show of looking at the clock above the shop counter): Aye, well, we’ll check again tomorrow. I need to get going. Have fun with your new phone.

Betty: I can already tell it’s going to be a laugh a minute.

Harry exits the shop.

Betty stares at the screen for five long minutes. “I can see why it’s called Twitter. It’s making me feel like a right twit!”

And with that, she stuffs the phone into her handbag and goes off to the bakery to console herself with a pie.