the great false big hair debacle

Three strapping young men walked down a street
Suburban somewhere.
But not too suburban
Strapping no.1 says "my, we cut a fine figure don't we?!"
Strapping no.2 says "yes"
Strapping no.1 says "it was a rhetorical question, can't you read inclination dumbarse?!"
Strapping no.3 says "it's a good thing we are renaissance men..."
Strapping no.2 said nothing more, he was a silent type.
Strapping no.1 was pretty happy about that, he thought Strapping no.2 was a bit thick.
Strapping no.3 was busy looking at his reflection in the tinted car windows

They approached the milling crowd
the road became damp underfoot.
the crowd got tangled up the in the cloth.
No wonder it wasn't a profit generating enterprise.
Some local bands, from that area were playing a free show for the punters.
the millers were chuffed, but knew they would miss at least the first 2 bands on the line-up
the gods of dexterity and nimbleness not being on their side.

The three strapping young men worked their way through the milling crowd
Heads held high, striding carefully but manfully
Ahead they spied a circle of Yew trees with a clearing inside.
They forged a path towards it
It hadn't been since Roman times that metal was used in transport construction.
Inside the clearing, there sat a mound.
From the mound they surveyed the milling crowd.
Still entangled in their great works.
How to make the natural ampitheatre where the bands jigged?
Their curly big hairs bobbled in the wind...