Making a cock of yourself

On the way to my office there's a joke shop. It mostly sells wigs, rubber masks that look vaguely like politicians of the 1980s, big fake boobs for stag dos, and every imaginable size, colour and shape of penis novelty for hen dos. In fact, it probably has the most comprehensive stock of novelty penises in the United Kingdom.

Yesterday, as I go past, there's an unhappy customer standing, for some reason, just OUTSIDE the shop, berating the proprietor. Presumably he can't get no satisfaction inside the shop, and has been left with no option but to take his cause to the streets, in the hopes of shaming the shopkeeper into giving him the refund he's demanding.

Unfortunately, the only person upon whom he is bringing shame is himself. He's not just arguing, He's bawling the whole street down, gesticulating wildly, and turning purple about the face. Everyone stands and stares as he ululates the following phrase, (rarely heard outside 70's comedy sketches):

"I bought it in good faith. It cost me eight pounds, and it was rubbish."

Alas dear reader, we shall never know what it was. There are few items for sale in that shop that aren't rubbish, and none that would make me stand in the street screaming for a refund while everyone assumed I'd bought a malfunctioning novelty penis. Good day to you sir!