Why are you lying in the gutter with a huge sack of coal clutched to your chest? Why are they laughing? Could one of them at least drag the d--nable thing off you?
You grab the sack [...] and hurl the contents into the coal bunker [...]
The Coalman's voice is a megalithic rumble: 'THANKS. I COULD DO IT. BUT THANKS.' [...] 'NEED A HAND. STRONG ARM. TROUBLE.' [...]