There's an obscure film by Ken loach called "The GameKeeper", about a year in the life of a, you guessed it, a game keeper. It's set around Barnsley.
George, the 'keeper, lives in a cottage provided by the Lord's estate. He asks one of the people from the estate office to come and look at his window frame because the wood is rotten. George arrives home to find the man examining the window frame....
George: What thar doin' up 'ere?
Estate Man: I've come to investigate this claim o' thine
G: We' tha can see! Frame's rotten.
EM: It can be mended. Cut that bit 'art and purra new piece in. Good as new.
G: NEW PIECE?! Look at it! <sticks penknife into rotten wood> It's as soft as bloody S*** man. Needs a complete new frame.
EM: If Mr Bingham <estate manager> sees a form for a new frame it wain't be just thee for't chop George!
G: BINGHAM?! He dunt even know where I bloody live, man!
EM: Well it's more than my jobs worth to put in a claim for a new frame.
G: Hold theer a minute <walks off, then returns with a bag>
G: 'ere thar are, there's a dozen pheasant eggs theer. I'll drop thee a couple o' ferrets in, an' a bag o' rabbits. Say, what's tha reckon to' t' frame now?
EM: <sucks wind through teeth> I reckon it's gettin' worse everytime I look at it. It's gettin worse by t' minute. It needs a new frame for sure..
G: Aye. Thought it might....
Absolute genius