I had to share this...

Because it's possibly the most insane thing I have ever seen.

The guy behind it is named Jean-Yves Blondeau and, as you can tell from his name, he's French. But that doesn't mean we should hate him. Quite the opposite in fact.

Good old Jean-Yves has invented something called Buggy Rollin, a thing that has to be seen to be believed.

The strange and terrible saga of the Pole in the nighttime.

It was late in the morning when I began making my way home. The night was cool and the air crisp as I popped my earphones in and hit the play button on my iPod. A soft tune began playing in my ears. Up ahead a figure lurched from left to right in the familiar way of one who is the worse for wear with drink or drugs, or both.

As I drew level with the wobbly wanderer I heard him speak. His accent was heavily tinged with the familiar tones of the Polish. Strangely the word he had uttered was “Asda.” When the figure motioned towards me I pulled one of my earphones out and spoke.

“Alright?” I asked.
He spoke in very broken English and I realised he wasn’t one of the more fluent members of the Polish community. “Asda… Dancing… You know?” He said.

I figured that he was attempting to get to the Corn Exchange, a concert venue adjacent to Asda.
“Asda… Dancing… Girls…” He said, his breath smelling of booze. “This way?” He continued pointing towards where he thought Asda was.
“No man…” I replied. “Asda, that way.” I said, pointing towards the dual carriageway which I new to be the safest way there for someone unfamiliar with the wrong end of the Edinburgh housing scheme known as Saughton.

“No… Asda this way.” He said once more in his drunken polish accent.
“No man, this is the local reservation and you better get the fuck out before the Indians get you. Go straight up this road and take a left at the dual carriageway.” I said, pointing the quickest way out of the middle of the housing scheme.
“Asda… Dancing… Girls… Drugs… Women… Vodka!” He said, staggering violently as the effects of the drink screwed with his sense of balance as he made his way along the road he thought led towards Asda.
“Fuck no man. This bad place, you no safe.” I said attempting to make him understand the gravity of the situation he had inadvertently stepped into.
“Asda!… Dancing!… Vodka!… Drugs!…” He yelled, with booze fuelling his spirit.
“Keep it down man, fuck me, are you trying to get us mugged? I may be local but the vultures around here don’t take kindly to people shouting about drink and drugs at two in the morning.” I said, grabbing his jacket in an attempt to shock him into silence.

He shoved me backwards and I was tempted for a second to whip out a fist and knock him on his ass but fought the urge and put my fingers to my lips to show him we needed to be silent. I pointed to my eyes and motioned towards the houses on our sides. He seemed to understand what I was implying and immediately quietened down. “We go… Shh… People watch…” He said, suddenly becoming as alert as a mongoose.
“Righty ho man, we go.” I said pointing in the direction of the local shops.

As we walked I attempted to converse with him but found it hard making myself understood so I gave up and listened to his, now more silent, ranting about drink, drugs, dancing and woman. A car pulled around a corner just ahead of us and I spotted the familiar lights and luminous paint of a cop car.

“Shit… Polizia… Drugs…” He whispered quickly.
I realised that the wandering drunk was not exactly in the best position if the occupants of the police car decided to stop and have a chat with us.
“Shh…” I hissed.
“Drugs… Polizia.” He whispered again.
“OK, OK. Everything cool.” I whispered to him.

The police car slowed as it drew level with us and I sensed that the Polish guy was coiled as tight as a spring and would flee if it stopped. “Everything OK.” I said, trying to prevent him from making an attempt to hightail it into the distance. If he were to take off I guessed he would make it about five yards before the drink in his system made him veer from his chosen course and smashed him face first into a hedge, a parked car or a lamppost.
The cop car slowly drove past and I heard the Polish guy heave a sigh of relief. “Fuck… Shit… Drugs…” He said, quickly checking behind us to see the cop car pulling into a side street.
“Everything cool.” I said, patting him on the back to indicate he had done well keeping his head.
“Drugs.” He said quietly as he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a large bag of pills and paper.
“Holy Fuck man!” I said, shocked at the large bag of obviously illegal narcotics in his hand.

We rounded the corner at the local shops and he spotted a taxi. “Taxi!” He yelled.
“Cool now… Taxi take me Asda… Drink… Dancing…” He said pushing something into my hand.
I looked down into my palm and saw a bundle of notes. There were fives, tens and a couple of twenties in amongst the bundle.

“No man…” I said pushing the notes back into his hand. “You keep.” I continued.
“You come Asda… Drinking… Dancing… Girls…” He said, causing me to figure out that he wished to return the favour of setting him in the right direction.
“No man. You go Asda, I go home.” I said.
“Take please…” He said, once more attempting to force a bundle into my hand.
“No man you keep money.” I said, shoving the money backwards.
“Not money…. Drugs…” He said.

I looked down into my hand and saw that he had pushed a fist full of drugs into my hand. “You keep. I have many…. I go Asda….” He said.
“Well man, I’m not about to let you sell these nasty narcotics to kids so I’ll take them but only as a service to the community.” I said, breaking into a smile.
The Polish guy seemed to know, on some kind of shared psychonaut level, what I had said and smiled back as he clambered into the taxi.

I tapped on the passenger side window of the taxi and told the driver to take the Polish guy to the Corn Exchange. The driver enquired if he was too far gone to speak for himself so I explained that he was polish and his English wasn’t too hot. “Fair enough” Said the driver.

As the taxi pulled away the polish guy leaned far out of the window and yelled what I took to be a thank you…

“ASDA… DANCING… GIRLS… WOMEN!”

I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go...

Please Leave the building by the nearest exit...



Mind the step...

Dear future Self...

Hello Fucko,
How goes it? All well and good I hope. If not; It's probably your fault for being a fucking layabout for the majority of your life. Does that sound harsh? If so, fuck ya, it's supposed to. I'm hoping that by the time you re-read this you've put yourself to some kind of good use and achieved something in your life. If not then you should be fucking ashamed.

Perhaps I should have taken a little time to refresh your memory of what is happening in your life at the time you are writing this...

You're currently single, unemployed and in a deep funk with regards to the state of the world. You're spending way too much time locked in your own little insular world. Your bed has become a refuge to hide from the world and you've got less direction in your life than a Satellite Navigation System that was won at a Gypsy fairground. You've been unemployed for almost a year following all that hoo-hah with the bowling club and you're struggling to find a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

To cut a long story short, you're fucking sinking son...

There is every possibility that the drugs ain't helping much either. I know, I know... You want to squeegee your third eye and see but even I can see that you should slow down. I mean, for fucks sake you're writing a letter to your future self and are referring to yourself in the third person.

That can't be good. Seriously, can it? (That's a sentence that could have such a different meaning by changing the punctuation. "That can't be good. Seriously. Can it.")

Can it. Knock it on the head. Pack it in and fucking grow up. Get some direction in your life, find something to keep you occupied, get off the dope and set about life with the same vim and vigour as you are currently putting into ripping the piss out of yourself.

Who knows, you may just surprise yourself.

The Visitor...

I awoke this morning and put some music on while I pondered what to do with my day.

There was a knock at the door.

I opened it to find that it was Elvis, wearing a black jumpsuit almost identical to the one he wore at his comeback tour
"You're Elvis." I said.
"A huh huh." He replied.
"But your dead." I said, with amazement in my voice.
"A huh huh." He said again.
"Then what are you doing here?" I asked.
"I bring you a warning man, quick! Get a burger!" He said, pushing his way into the house.

I followed him as he headed for the small cupboard at the end of my hallway. "What do we need a burger for?" I asked.
"I've been dead a long time and there's no hamburger stands in heaven, something to do with cholesterol." he said, rooting around the cupboard."Where’s the Big Juggs special edition?" He asked lifting boxes and pulling them open.
"Pardon?" I asked.
"The ghost of the last person that lived here says you have the special anniversary edition of Big Juggs in this cupboard and I ain't seen a pair of big titties in a long time."
"It’s at the bottom of the pile, just after "butch lesbo's and the sunny-assed kid volume 3" help yourself" I said, leaving him to find it.

I walked through to the living room and sat down to roll a joint. I could hear Elvis rummaging in my cupboard of sin and shouted to him to get his ass into the living room so we could talk.

“So man,” I said, “What brings you round these parts, apart from my superior collection of top grade hardcore porno?”
“I told you already boy, I was sent with a warning for you.” he said, as he flicked through the pages of the anniversary edition of Big Juggs.
“A warning?” I asked.
“A huh huh.” He said in that deep southern accent of his. “It’s a warning that you have to make humanity listen to.”
“All of humanity?” I asked.
“A huh huh, all of them.” He said as he turned the porn magazine he was holding sideways “Damn man, I never thought I'd ever see a woman do that, and certainly not with a cucumber.”
“Look man can we please stick to the subject in hand, what’s this warning I have to get all of humanity to listen to?” I asked.

“You gotta tell them that god is getting a little ticked off at all the wars that are being fought in his name, he’s seriously considering giving the world another going over with the biblical flood thing.” Said Elvis as he took a seat on the couch. “He really is getting all cranked up on the vengeance and wrath. I don’t know how long St Peter can keep him in check, there’s only so many times that seeing the virgin Mary's face appear on a road sign in Mexico or a parsnip in the shape of Mother Theresa’s head can take the big guy’s mind off wiping out half the population”

“Why doesn’t he just give the religious nuts a Second Coming?” I asked.
“Jesus say’s he’s not coming back too earth until hell freezes over, the last time he came down they nailed him to a dead tree and left him for a week and a half.”
“I can imagine why that’d put him off of a second visit.” I said as I reached for my cigarettes. “And if you ask me the plague of locusts may be a good idea.”
“SHHH man, he’ll hear you!” Said Elvis with a look of horror on his face.
“How in the name of Christ will he hear me?” I asked.
“Shit man, he’s omnipotent!”
“How can he be Jesus' father if he’s omnipotent?”
“Omnipotent, not impotent.”
“Ok, lets pretend just for a second that you are talking to a complete moron who didn't pay much attention at school and that I don’t know the meaning of the word omnipotent.”
“It means that he sees all, knows all and hears all.”
“What? He sees everything, hears everything and knows everything?”
“That’s about right” Elvis said as he stood up and walked over to my record collection.
“Really? Everything?” I asked.
“A huh huh man, everything.”
“Even if I'm in the bath?”
“What is so hard for you to grasp about that premise man? He’s god. He sees everything that you do and hears everything that you say; He also knows all of your thoughts and deeds”
“Even if I'm in bed at night?” I asked.
“Yes you imbecile, even when you are in your bed at night.” said Elvis obviously getting a little ticked off at my lack of comprehension.

“But that means that when I'm in bed at night wan...umm, you know. He can see me umm, you know.” I stammered.
“You lost me there kid”
“What I'm trying to say is, well, when I'm, you know, umm, how can I put this... bashing the bishop. He can see me?”
“Bashing the bishop?” Elvis asked with a look of puzzlement on his face.
“Choking the snake, shaking hands with your best friend, spanking the monkey, opening the coke bottle, pulling one off, rubbing off some skin, having a quick one off the wrist, dousing the tallywacker.”
“I'm still not with you man.” Elvis said still looking puzzled.

“HAVING A WANK MAN! HAVING A FUCKING WANK!!!” I bellowed at him.

“You better watch your god damned language now boy or I may have to open up a can of whoop ass on y’all, I got a black belt in karate and I ain't 'fraid to use it.” He said as he started to punch and kick at an invisible enemy.
He spun around on the ball of his foot and sent my TV crashing through the window. There was a sound of material ripping and Elvis looked down at his crotch “Got a needle and thread man? I ripped my jumpsuit.”

I went and got him a needle and thread and a pair of Bermuda shorts to wear while he stitched the crotch of his jumpsuit. “Wait a minute” I said “Jesus doesn’t have to come back man”
“Why not?” Elvis asked.
“If god is impotent.” I said.
“Omnipotent.” Interrupted Elvis.
“Yeah man whatever, if he is omnipotent as you say he is. Then surely he could just make someone his conduit here on earth.”
“He tried that already man, no one believed the guy.”
“Who was that?” I asked curiously.
“David Icke. He even went on national TV and told everyone that he was the Son of God and the press and media ripped the poor guy to shreds.” Explained Elvis.
“No wonder no one believed him man, he was a worse TV presenter than Janet Street Porter and a third rate goalkeeper for a shitty football team.” I said in amazement at being told that David Icke was the second coming. “I mean come on man, god has all the power in the universe and he gets a Coventry City goalkeeper to be his second coming. Sorry man but I find that a bit hard to believe.”

“What’s so hard about that to believe?”
“A bad goalkeeper man, come on.”
“His first conduit was a carpenter.”
“What?” I asked amazed “Karen Carpenter was one as well?”
Elvis shook his head and looked skywards with a look of desperation on his face.

“Jesus was a carpenter you idiot. Didn’t you read the bible?”

“Well I did try to but I couldn't get to grips with all that... “Adam lived an hundred and thirty years, and begat a son in his own likeness, after his image; and called his name Seth And Seth lived an hundred and five years, and begat Enos And Enos lived ninety years, and begat Cainan: And Cainan lived after he begat Mahalaleel eight hundred and forty years, and begat sons and daughters”... It bored the hell out of me. He could have got a better writer to write it for him, maybe he should have thrown in a car chase or something like that just to keep people interested.” I said, thinking that if god was listening then I was being scored from the good boy’s list and firmly carved onto the stone tablets of Satan's future torture victims.

“Jesus Christ almighty.” Said Elvis with a tone of dejection in his voice.
“Careful man.” I said “Remember what it say's about not taking the lords name in vain. You could go to hell for that man.”

Elvis looked at me with pity in his eyes “I was asking for his strength to keep my spirits up.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes man, really.”
“You’ve really fallen for that religious mumbo jumbo ain't you?”
“It’s not mumbo jumbo man; It’s the gospel truth.”
“Prove it.” I said.
“How?” Asked Elvis.
“Get him to make it snow outside.” I said, thinking that if ever I needed proof that god existed it beginning to snow on a day where the temperature was 60° in the shade was a pretty convincing argument.
“Were you dropped as a child?” Asked Elvis.
“Not that I know about. Why?”
“Don’t you know that tempting god is a dangerous thing to do?”
“Is it?” I asked.
“Of course it is you idiot!” Elvis said with his voice slightly raised.
“I guess that lesson was given in Sunday school after I got kicked out.”
“You got kicked out of Sunday school?” Elvis asked with a look of disbelief on his face “What for?”
“There was a small misunderstanding.”
“What kind of misunderstanding?”
“Ok I’ll admit it. I took a piss in the font. How was I supposed to know it wasn‘t the urinal? It was made of stone and had water in it!” I confessed.
Elvis’s mouth dropped open and he fixed me with a look like i’ve only ever seen on one person before and that was just after I told an ex-girlfriends dad that I thought he was a scum sucking piece of shit.

“I think I may have come to the wrong house.”
“What made god think this was the right house in the first place?” I asked out of sheer curiosity.
“Well like I said about god being impotent.”
“Omnipotent.” I interrupted.
“Yeah man, whatever. What he done was he looked into everyones heart and soul and picked the person who has the most compassion within them.”
“And he chose me?” I asked amazed.
“A huh, apparently you have compassion for all people regardless of their race, colour, creed and beliefs.” Elvis said.
“It’s a quality I have.”
“How do you manage that?”
“Weed man.” I said as I held up an ounce of the finest Nepalese hash that I'd ever managed to get my hands on.

“You smoke cannabis?” Asked Elvis.
“As god is my witness man. After all he made the stuff and he obviously likes a puff now and then”
“What makes you think that god smokes cannabis?” Elvis asked with a curious look on his face.
“He must do”
“How?”
“Well, just look at all the diverse animals, plants and people we have on this planet, there are millions of different species but all fit into a group of some kind, primates, insects, rodents, mammals and then there’s lots of subgroups such as mammals that can fly, ones that live in the oceans, ones that live in tree’s so he’s got to have had at least a small toot on occasion. And if that’s not enough proof that god likes a toke then I have three words that’ll settle this argument once and for all.”

“What are the words?”
“Duck-billed-platypus” I said with a smile.
“Pardon?” Asked Elvis.
“You heard right man, duck-billed-platypus.”
“And how exactly does that explain that god smoked some weed in his days on earth as he was creating all the plants and animals on earth?” Elvis asked filled with intrigue.
“Just look at the damned thing. It has the tail of a beaver, but the beak of a duck. It’s a mammal but it lays eggs. It’s like god knew that one day a guy named Charles Darwin would come along and write the evolution of the species but that one animal throws his whole theory out of kilter. And lets face it, if you said to someone that you were going to create such an animal the first thing that they’d do would be too lock the medicine cabinet and hide all your Rizla papers” I said as I reached for the Rizla papers to roll another joint.

“You may have a point there man” said Elvis. “But as I was saying god say’s you need to get everyone to listen to his message and stop all the fighting.”
“It’s not possible man. Too many things would need to be changed.” I said. “I’m not about to walk around telling people not to fight about religion. And besides humans like to fight each other.”

“Why do you think that is?”
“Because for so long the general public has been kept arguing amongst themselves about trivial shit.” I commented. “That’s how the system works, it’s a good way of keeping people in check. If they are arguing amongst themselves about race, colour, sports, the health system, the state of the roads, the price of fuel, sexuality, the latest plot line in Eastenders, Coronation street, what’s happening in the big brother house or anything else, then they aren’t thinking about how it’s all so that the super-rich family’s of the world can keep going to the bank. The world is not controlled by the people. The government controls the people and the governments are controlled by big business.”

“You’re paranoid man” said Elvis “Maybe you should stop smoking that stuff.”
“You can talk you were on so many drugs in the latter stages of your life that you rattled like a pillbox when you came on stage”
“Hey man, they were all prescribed to me by a doctor.”
“Don’t be such a fucking hypocrite man, just ‘cos they are given to you by a doctor doesn’t distract from the fact that you were higher than the entire audience at Woodstock for the best part of your life. You paid the guy to give you those drugs man, he wasn’t a doctor he was a dealer.”

Elvis looked at me with loathing in his eyes but I ignored it.
“Why doesn’t god do a TV special?” I asked “After all the church has enough money to pay for a whole day live interview with him on every network in the world. The ratings for that would be huge. Then he would be able to straighten it all out in one fell swoop.”
“He’s paranoid about how he would look to everyone” said Elvis.
“What for?” I asked.
“Well man, everyone has this idea that he has the looks of a movie star, you know. Like Moses is expected to look like Charlton Heston and Jesus is supposed too look like Max Von Sydow. He feels he can’t compare to those guy's. He wouldn’t live up to everyone’s expectations.” Elvis said as I finished rolling my joint and lighting it.
“What does the big guy look like anyway?” I asked inhaling the smoke deeply.
“He looks like all of humanity.”
“Huh?” I said “what do you mean?”
“It’s like looking in a mirror man; to you he looks like you and to me he looks like me.”
“How can that be?” I asked.
“God made us all in the image of him. He is all of us.”

“Nope man, I still don’t get that” I said wondering if I was stoned enough to try to figure it out without having an aneurysm or spontaneously combusting and burning like a monk at a peace protest.

“All of humanity was created in his image so therefore he looks like all of us. He is us and we are him” Elvis explained.
“One entity you mean?” I said suddenly grasping onto what Elvis was trying to get at.
“That’s it. One entity, one mind. Every thought you have, every word you speak has all been thought or said before by someone else at some point.” Said Elvis.
“So, if nothing you can do, think or say hasn’t been done, said or thought before what’s the point of living?” I asked wanting to know what the meaning behind life was.

“How the hell should I know boy? I'm just a fat, dead rock star man”
“Why don't you do it then?” I asked.
“Been tried man, I've been seen by many thousands of people since I died. I've tried to spread the message that we are all in this together and that heaven on earth is achievable if we put all our differences aside and work as one people, but everyone I choose to tell just thinks I'm a sad lonely old rocker who works in a steel mill and dresses as Elvis at the weekends in a desperate attempt to recapture their happier youth.”

“That’s to be expected though, you do look a bit like a bad impersonator of yourself.” I commented.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elvis asked with a look of hurt in his eyes.
“Well, I always imagined you’d be taller than you are.”
“Hey man, I'm tall enough to whip your ass man” he said as he stood and started to flay at another invisible enemy.

“TAKE IT EASY MAN!” I yelled “you already kicked my TV out the window and ripped your jumpsuit. I'd rather keep a hold of my electrical hardware and I'm sure that you don't want to rip your pants again.”
“It happens all the time man, I may not be alive anymore but my sewing skills have improved since my death. Just goes to show that there's a good side to everything.” Said Elvis as he calmed down and took his seat again.
“I think the problem lies in the fact that we are all driven by the need for money.” I said, trying to work out what is basically wrong about the world that we live in. “If we done away with money I think life in general would be of a better quality. After all what is money?”

“It’s for buying stuff man, I remember one time I bought fifteen Cadillac's in one day” Elvis said smiling.
“Who were they for?” i asked.
“The staff at a restaurant in Las Vegas, man did they do a good rack of ribs with Barbecue sauce. I used to have my private jet fly them to me wherever I was doing a show. Good ribs man, good ribs.” Elvis said, licking his lips and yearning for some ribs.

“As I was saying before your stomach jumped into the conversation, what is money?”
I could see that Elvis was about to say it was for buying things again so I kept talking.

“It’s just a token. It’s of no value whatsoever. All it is is a piece of paper. Why don't we become a cashless society? We’re almost there as it is now; Credit cards are the new currency and what’s a credit card? It’s a piece of plastic with no value whatsoever.”
“But” interrupted Elvis “How would we get thing’s that we need?”
“Think of it like this, I work in a garage and you work in a bowling alley.”

“Hey man, I'm a rock and roll legend, I aint workin’ in no bowling alley, I'm in show business.”
“Ok then Mr Ego, you work in a Vegas lounge doing your own inimitable style of showmanship and I work in a garage.” I said trying to put across how the idea could be worked, “I don’t mind working in the garage as long as if I feel like it I can walk into the Vegas hotel and catch your show at anytime I feel, and you are comfortable knowing that if your car breaks down and comes to my garage that it’ll be fixed for you.” I explained.

“So everyone just keeps doing the job that they are doing but with no money at the end of the week to buy what they want?” Asked Elvis.
“Why not?” I asked. “Working as one race is surely better than not working as individuals?”
“I suppose so.” Conceded Elvis. “But human greed is a hard thing to try to rid the world of. Everyone is busy trying to get enough for themselves and forgetting about the larger issues”
“All society‘s problems could be sorted out by ridding the world of greed” I stated.
“How?” Elvis asked.

“All people are in employment doing whatever job they are trained to do. Builders build farmers’ farm, brewers brew, and governments run the essentials of society. All the work goes on day to day just like it does now. We house anyone who needs a house and educate him or her to do whatever job they would like to do. After ten years working together we would have full employment and housing.” I said, sucking deep on my joint.

“But what if you want to change the job that you are in?” Asked Elvis.
“Then you go to your local office of employment and tell them you’d rather not be a lounge singer or a builder or a farmer and that you’d like to try your hand at being a fisherman or a judge or whatever else you fancy doing.”
“But who’s going to do the job that you aren't going to be doing anymore?”
“Well, I'm sure that there would be someone that would like to do the job that I was doing. You forget that even though I'm leaving a job, I'm also creating one.”
“You could be onto something there.” said Elvis.

“I think we should do away with calendars in the world as well.” I suggested.
“What will that cure?” Elvis asked.
I took a cigarette and lit it. “What century are we in?” I asked, straying slightly off the point to make the point.
“The twenty-first century.” Said Elvis.
“No we aren’t. The world is a whole lot older than that. It’s accepted by scientists to be between one billion years and five billion years. The oldest known hominid is thought to be 4 million years old. So why do we insist on measuring time by how long it’s been since some guy that you never met? Have you ever wondered why we measure time in seconds?” I said as the joint began to open my mind.
“I can’t say that I have man” said Elvis as he scratched at his thigh. “Loose thread” He said to explain the clawing he was doing in the general vicinity of his crotch.
“It’s another way for the people who run our world to keep you in control.” I said, taking a deep breath. “We are brought into the world and told from the start that everything is a competition and that second is as good as last. Then we get told to measure our lives in seconds. Doesn’t that strike you with the thought that you are set of into life with the suggestion that you will never succeed in life?”
“Put like that it does.” Said Elvis.

“We’d need to get rid of the hypocrisy that is so rife in society as well.” I said.
“Such as?” Posed Elvis.
“The belief that deviating from what is thought of as normal behaviour makes you somehow different from anyone else. If you want to go home at night and dress up like a wolf and have your wife chase you round the kitchen while she’s dressed as little red riding hood then that’s fine just so long as you both willingly consent.”
“Have you been talking to Pricilla?” Elvis asked in a defensive tone.
“Pardon?” I asked, not sure that I'd heard what I thought I had heard.
Elvis laughed nervously “Nothing man, I was just joking” he said as he squirmed in his chair nervously and tried not too look me in the eye.

“Yeah man, whatever.” I said shivering slightly at the thought of this fat, dead, rock and roll star crawling around the kitchen on his hands and knees singing hound dog. The shiver passed as I was warmed by imagining Pricilla dressed in a skimpy little red riding hood outfit.
“Hey man you still with me?” Said Elvis, wondering why I was staring into space like a human version of the Hubble telescope.
“What? Huh? Sorry man. I was miles away.” I said as Elvis derailed my train of thought. “So what can god do to get a little love into the world?”

“What I think we need is more random acts of kindness, good deeds, like buying ribs for hungry people.” said Elvis as he started to look through my collection of videos. “You still got that porno with the lesbian orgy in it?” He asked.
“What is it with you and porno man?” I asked.
“There aint no porn in heaven man.” He answered as he rooted around in my cabinet and selected a tape from my collection. “Is this the one with the two women with the double ended dildo and the giant sized tub of whipped cream?” He asked.
“Will you please stop making a mess of my tapes and sit down. We have issues to sort out.” I said.

“Aww man, come on. I’ve been in heaven for ten years. I need to see some chick licking another chicks pussy like a dog lapping water.” He said as he sat down and picked up the big juggs magazine again.

I suddenly realised that he had said he had been dead for ten years. “Wait a fucking minute man, you’ve been in heaven ten years?”
“Yeah man” he replied.
“But you died in 1977. August 16th. I remember ‘cos it was my birthday and you dying totally fucked my party.” I said, remembering how my mother had went to pieces at the news and had sent everyone at my party home so she could spend the rest of the day weeping and playing “Are you lonesome tonight” over and over again, thereby souring me of Elvis's brand of music for life.

“I didn't die in ‘77 man. I died in ‘93.” He said smiling. “My death in ‘77 was stage managed by the CIA so I could go into witness protection.”
“Witness protection?” I questioned.
“Yeah man, I got into a lot of trouble with the DEA when Dickey gave me a special agents badge and found that I had enough dope in my trailer to keep Woodstock going for a decade or two. Man was Nixon pissed at me for that one.” He said leering at me with his famous lip curl.

“Why are you looking at me like you’re a hungry coyote and I’m a prize hen?” I asked.

“You’re a real good looking guy. You know that?” Elvis answered causing me to worry.
“Look man, you may be the king of rock and roll but I’ll still kick you clean in the balls unless you get that idea out your head man.” I said with a little anger in my voice.
“Hey man I just thought you might wanna do a favour for big Elvis by giving little Elvis some attention.”
“Look man just ’cos I aint a homophobe don’t mean I wanna drop to my knees and give your pecker the kiss of life. Any more of that and you’ll be right back in the hit parade.” I said as I made a mental note not to turn my back on Elvis in his current state.

“Hey man.” Said Elvis “You got a telephone?”
“Yes. you wanna make a call or something?” I said.
“I wanna call for some ribs man. I’m hungry.”
“You can’t get ribs unless you get ones from the Chinese restaurant” I informed elvis.
“What? You mean to tell me there’s no southern take outs in this place?”
“Only KFC” I said.
“Kentucky fried chicken?”
“Ahuh”
“Damn man, that stuff’s just shit man.”
“Don’t I know it.”

*Originally posted on my old site.*

There was a strange knocking sound...

Emitting from the cupboard at the end of the hall.

I tried to open the door and realised that it was locked so I went to the kitchen and retrieved the key from the drawer. Slipping the key into the lock I discovered that there was some kind of force trying to prevent me opening the door.

Whenever I tried to turn the key the force worked against me with a strength that caused me to think that there was something inside the cupboard that was as determined to keep me out as I was to get in. "What the fuck?" I thought.

I went back into the kitchen and got my toolbox from the cupboard underneath the sink and carried it to the hall cupboard door. Popping open the toolbox I spotted what I needed, a pair of mole grips and a can of motorcycle chain lubricant. I removed the key from the lock and slid the small plastic tube applicator of the lubricant can into the lock and gave it a squirt.

Sliding the key back into the lock and gripping it with the mole grips I used all my strength and managed to get it to turn. The cupboard was no longer locked. I pulled open the door and was greeted with a sight I never expected to see in my lifetime. There was what appeared to be a forest of Scots Pine trees in my cupboard.

I stepped into the cupboard and walked into the forest. Pine cones and the general detritus of a forest crunched beneath my feet and I heard birds twittering and tweeting in the branches above me. As I looked up at the clear blue sky above me I caught sight of movement. My eyes quickly darted to where I had seen movement and to my amazement I saw a faun.

Holy shit! I must have found a gateway into the Kingdom of Narnia. I thought to myself as I took cover behind a Scots pine so that the faun didn't see me. After a few minutes I risked poking my head around the tree to see where the faun had went.

"Fucking Hell!" I yelled.

The faun had snuck up behind the tree I was hiding behind and had obviously thought it was quite the lark to sneak up on me and scare the bejesus out of me. As I leaped backwards my foot caught an exposed tree root and I fell flat on my backside.

The faun gave out a hearty laugh as I lay on the ground in front of it. "Hehehehe, silly human." It said. "Thinking you could sneak up on a faun... Don't you know that we are the most evolved of creatures here in the forest? It would take a God to sneak up on a faun and even then we'd hear it coming." The faun continued.

"Fuck you Tumnus." I said standing up and dusting the pine needles and dirt off of my jeans.
"I am not the faun you think I am." Said the faun.
"Of course you are, I've read C.S Lewis, you're name is Tumnus and you're a faun."
"I have not heard of this See Ess Lewis of which you speak human, but I do know of the legend of Tumnus the faun, my mother told me of his bravery when I was young." The faun said.
"So, what's your name then?" I asked.

The faun straightened itself to its full height and spoke as though it was a king revealing himself to the peasant masses.

"My name is Lebowitz." It said proudly.
"And how should I address you?" I asked.
"It is traditional to name the creature after you name its species." The faun said.
"Ok then. Faun Lebowitz it is." I said, beginning to laugh.
"Why do you laugh human?"
"Never mind... I always thought you were killed in a kiln accident."
"What is your name human?" The faun questioned.
"Ross Douglas." I said.
"The Ross Douglas? Brave warrior of the earth plain? Vanquisher of General Itsy? Slayer of the Easter Bunny?"
"Yup, that's me." I said, slightly embarrassed.
"You are known in our kingdom. Your legend tells of a man ten feet tall with arms like the branches of an oak tree... I see legends are not strictly true." Faun Lebowitz said, looking me up and down.

"Where am I?" I asked, looking around at the vast landscape before me. I knew for damn sure that I was no longer in the cupboard at the end of my hallway. I'm sure I'd remember if I had planted an entire forest of pine trees in my cupboard at some point during my residence.

"You do not know where you are Brave warrior?" The faun enquired.
"As far as I know I'm in my hall cupboard." I said.
"The kingdom of Myhall Cup Bored is not known to me. Have you travelled far?" Faun asked.
"About a hundred yards." I said.
"A yard must be a great distance. This kingdom stretches as far as you can see and further." The faun said, indicating the vast landscape with its front hoof. I looked around and saw that the door to my hall was no longer visible. "Oh fuck." I said. "I've lost the door. I could end up stuck here." I continued.

A sense of dread passed over me. What if I had lost the way back into my hallway? I'd be stuck here in a land where my friends and family couldn't get in touch, a land where talking fauns and god only knows what other creatures lived.

The feeling passed when I realised that I wouldn't have to pay the £100 electric bill and the £50 phone bill that were sitting on my mantle.

"You must be tired after your journey of one hundred yards human, please come with me and I shall take you to my home where you can rest and regain your strength." The faun said.
The faun told me to jump onto its back so I climbed on and held tight as it sped off into the tree lined valley ahead of us.

We arrived at the fauns house, a small cottage type arrangement at the bottom of a glen, and I dismounted feeling the same way I did the first time I was a pillion passenger on a superbike. Shaking, scared and eager to do it again straight away.

Faun Lebowitz welcomed me into his home by doing a strange little dance which involved pawing the earth in front of the doorway and bellowing loudly. I stepped over the threshold and was greeted with the sight of another faun and two smaller fauns that I figured to be Lebowitz's wife and children.

"This is my wife and children." He said, confirming what I thought. The female faun strode over and bowed to me by lowering itself onto its front legs. "Welcome to our humble home human, I am Faun Dell and these are our children Faun Dov and Faun Dayadrink." It said.

"Hi." I said. "I'm Ross."
"Wife..." Said Lebowitz. "This is the brave warrior of the earth realm Ross Douglas."
"The Ross Douglas? Slayer of General Itsy? Dispatcher of the Easter Bunny?" Faun Dell asked, with a tone of disbelief in her voice.

"Indeed wife." Faun Lebowitz replied, as he beckoned to his children. "Come little ones, meet the brave warrior Ross Douglas, Slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny." He said.

The two small fauns timidly walked over to where I stood and bowed their heads. As one they spoke, "We welcome you into our home brave warrior Ross Douglas, Slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny."

"Thanks. But please, just call me Ross. This "Slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny" thing is wearing a bit thin." I told them and patted them on their heads.

Without warning Faun Lebowitz snorted and squared up to me. "You insult my children by patting them on the head!" He bellowed. "We are not common animals! We are Faun and Fauns are regal creatures, you shall show respect or you will be banished from our home!"

"Steady on Tumnus." I said. "I was only saying hello. There's no need to go all skitzo on me."
Faun Dov spoke. "Lebowitz, I am certain that the brave warrior, slayer of..." She paused. "Ross meant no insult. He is a stranger to our land and to our customs." She continued.

"Exactly." I said. "I didn't mean to offend your family faun Lebowitz. I was merely showing affection."

Lebowitz calmed down and the tension dropped from the room. "Come." He said. "I shall show you to where you can sleep. Your hundred yard journey must have sapped your great strength and you will require rest."

"Thank you faun Lebowitz, your hospitality is kind beyond words." I said as he lead me from the main living area of the cottage to a smaller, but still ample sized, room off to the side. A large wooden bed was situated in the centre of the room and I sat down and felt the softness of the matting.

"This is the visitors quarters, I trust you will be comfortable." He said. With this faun Lebowitz left me. I pulled my legs up onto the bed and was asleep in a few seconds.

I awoke early the next day and heard Faun Lebowitz and his wife arguing in the other room.
"Why did you bring him here? You know the punishment for harbouring a human is punishable by death." Faun Dell was saying.

"But he is Ross Douglas, brave warrior of the earthly realm, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny, he will protect us." Faun Lebowitz replied. "Now hush woman I hear him stirring. He must not know the danger he has placed us in."

I coughed loudly as I hadn't had my morning cigarette and the door to the guest room swung open. Faun Dell stood in the doorway. "Good morrow brave warrior, I trust your rest was satisfying." She said.

"I slept like a kid." I said, stretching my arms above my head.
"You slept like a young goat?" Faun Dell asked confused.
"Never mind." I said. "Yes, I slept well." I answered.
"Come and have something to eat." Faun Dell said.

I followed faun Dell to the main part of the house and saw that the table was covered in a large assortment of fruits and vegetables. The faun children were nowhere to be seen so I enquired where they were. Faun Dell looked at her husband with a sad look in her eye and Lebowitz spoke.

"The children are gone now." He said.
"Outside playing are they?" I asked.
Faun Dell began to make strange noises and asked to be excused.
"Please do not speak of the children again brave warrior Ross. They are gone now." Faun Lebowitz said and gestured to the food on the table. "Please, eat."

"I overheard you and your wife speaking earlier, you have put yourself in danger by having me here." I said as I took an apple from the table and bit into it.
"My wife and I are in no danger." Faun Lebowitz said.

I put two and two together and worked out where the children had gone. "Faun Lebowitz, where are the children?" I asked.
"Do not speak of the children brave warrior Ross they are beyond our reach now." He said.
Faun Dell came back into the room and spoke.
"The children have been taken by the black hoarde. It is the punishment for us looking after you." She said.

I almost choked on the apple I was eating. "Excuse me?" I spluttered.

Faun Dell told me how the punishment for harbouring a human was normally death to the host family but in order not to arouse suspicion the black hoarde had been instructed to take only the children. "The black hoarde will be returning for my husband and I when he has seen you safely back to your homeland." Faun Dell said, visibly upset.

"Not while I'm here they won't." I said. I turned to Lebowitz and asked if there was anywhere that faun Dell could hide while he and I went and got the children back. "There is nowhere safe from the black hoarde. My wife must wait here until you are taken to your lands and I return. Then the black hoarde will come for us." He said.

"Hang on a second... didn't you say that it would take a god to sneak up on a faun when I first saw you?" I asked.
"Yes. We are the most sensitive creatures in this kingdom but this matters not." He replied.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because it is the law." Faun Lebowitz replied.

"Well Tumnus my friend we have a saying in my land... Fuck the law." I said. "Faun Dell, run and hide from the black hoarde, your husband and I are going to get your children back."
"This is not possible. The black hoarde cannot be overcome." Lebowitz replied.
"Hey, remember me? Brave warrior of the earthly plain, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny?" I said. "I think it's about time I added kicker of the black hoardes arse to that list."

Faun Lebowitz's eyes sparkled and I saw the rage of someone I'd rather have with me than against. "Wife, take flight and hide. Find the resistance and tell them that the time has come to overthrow the black hoarde."

Faun Dell rubbed noses with her husband and we left the cottage and watched as she sped across the landscape at the same breakneck speed with which Lebowitz had carried me to his home the previous night.

"Right then Lebowitz, where do the black hoarde hold camp?" I asked.
"The black castle." He replied.
"Then let's go and have a butchers." I said climbing onto lebowitz's back.

We sped across the valley in the opposite direction to that which faun Dell had gone. Trees whizzed past us at a blur and I clung on for fear of falling. Faun Lebowitz told me the story of the black hoarde as we travelled.

"The black hoarde were borne of the black times when this kingdom lost its royal line. The great and good Kings used to hold the warring factions in check with diplomacy and appeasement but when the last king died without heir the ancient tribes went to war to decide who was to be the new ruler. The black hoarde killed all of their enemies in a war that lasted more than the lifetime of a dozen fauns and very few of the original clans survived. The only reason that the black hoarde did not kill everyone not of their kin was that the ancient tales foretold that if a race ceased to be then the land would be swallowed by the seas and all would die."

Faun Lebowitz continued his tale and I was brought up to speed on how the black hoarde had killed all but two families of each race.

We slowed to a walking pace and stopped a few hundred yards from the entrance to a dark cavern that looked like it had been ripped out of the side of the hill by the claws of some giant beast. Ragged rocks hung precariously around the entrance and the ground in front of the cave was littered with bones and skulls of animals I didn't recognise.

"This is the entrance to the black hoardes lair." Faun Lebowitz told me in a hushed voice.
"Then let's go see if anyone is in shall we?" I said as I began walking towards the cave entrance.

Faun Lebowitz grabbed my collar with his teeth and held me back. "Hey..." I said but then I noticed why he had stopped me. Just visible in the darkness of the cave entrance a pair of red eyes glowed menacingly.

"The black hoarde cannot travel in the light. As soon as you step into the darkness you would be torn limb from limb." He told me and I stopped attempting to loosen his grip on me.
"In that case I think I'll stay in the light." I said and strode forwards a few yards.

"Hey, bright eyes!" I shouted in the direction of the cave. "Go and get the head hoarde, I want to talk." I continued.

The red glowing eyes blinked out and disappeared.

"So what now?" I asked Lebowitz.
"The guardian will be back soon... And it will not be alone." Lebowitz said.
"So we just wait?" I asked.
"There is nothing else to do." Lebowitz replied.

I sat down on the grass just at the edge of the bone strewn ground and absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on the bottom of my jeans.

I pondered how a seemingly normal day had lead to where I was now. I thought back to the day when General Itsy had came into my life. What started off as an ordinary night watching TV had turned into a fight for my life. Then the Easter Bunny episode happened. And now here I was deep in an unknown land that existed in the cupboard at the end of my hallway.

"Maybe they were all psychotic episodes and they're becoming more regular." I thought. "Maybe I'm just having a very lucid dream but haven't realised I'm dreaming." I thought.
"Maybe I've finally snapped and have went totally and irrevocably insane." I thought.
"Maybe I've had an accident of some kind and I'm really lying in hospital somewhere in a coma." I thought. Then dismissed that as it all seemed a bit too Life on Mars.

Faun Lebowitz snapped me out of my introspective thoughts when he announced that the Guardian had returned. In the mouth of the cave the red eyes of the guardian glowed menacingly. A second pair of eyes blinked into view. Then a third. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. A sixth. A seventh. An eighth and final set of eyes opened revealing themselves to be a deeper red than the rest.

I figured that this was the head honcho of the hoarde and knew that this was whom I was about to try to reason with. I whispered to Lebowitz. "You said they can't travel in light, how are they with shadow?" I asked.

"No one knows. The hoarde are not known for leaving witnesses to their barbarity." He said.
"Well, it looks like we're about to find out. Or you are at least." I said, stepping forwards into the shadow of the cave.

"I seek audience with the leader of the black hoarde." I said, doing my best to sound brave, warriorish and dispatchery. The deepest red eyes emerged from the impenetrable blackness of the cave and stepped into the shadow.

The beast in front of me was something that would give a child nightmares so bad it would need many hours of expensive therapy with the worlds leading psychologists. It stood around seven feet tall on hind legs with large wings that ended in sharp, vicious and no doubt lethal talons. Leathery skin that was wrinkled and covered in some kind of thick gel covered its body and its skull had the look of a goat. Horns protruded from the its forehead and curled around in the same way as a goats horns do.

It spoke in a voice that shook the ground I was standing on. "I am the King of the hoarde and the ruler of this land. Who are you that you think you may seek an audience and stay alive." It said.
"I am the brave warrior of the earthly plain Ross Douglas, slayer of General Itsy, Dispatcher of the Easter Bunny." I said.

The beast emitted what I took to be a laugh. If Satan himself ever found reason to laugh, this was exactly how I would imagine it to sound. "You claim to be a great warrior and yet all you have done is kill children's fairy stories. You are no brave warrior, you are but a pest and I shall dispose of you before this day is through." The beast said.

"Yeah, well, you ain't so big yourself." I said and stepped towards the beast. The beast stepped forwards also and I looked up into its eyes. "Give Faun Lebowitz and Faun Dell their children back now and I might let you live." I said.

"And if I do not?" The beast asked, its foul breath tainting the air around me so much that I could barely breathe. "Then I'll do to you what I used to do to daddy long legs." I said. "I'll pull your FUCKING WINGS OFF AND STAND ON YOU!" I shouted.

"Brave words indeed. But words mean nothing human. It is actions that count." The beast said.

"Then why don't you and I step into the clearing over there and we'll see who's the bitch?" I asked, in the hope that the beast was stupid enough to walk into the light.
"You think me unintelligent human? I will not fall into your trap." The beast said.
I smiled. "Worth a try though?" I said.
"Indeed. Many of my brethren would have fallen for such a trick." The beast replied. "However I am not as senseless as they." It continued.
"So what now?" I asked.
"Now I wait until the setting of the sun and you wait to die." The beast said, turning away and walking back into the darkness of the cave mouth.

I walked back to where faun Lebowitz stood and smiled. "I think I've got him worried." I said.
"You fool no-one human, we are as good as dead come nightfall." Lebowitz said.
"Then we better get started." I said and jumped onto Lebowitz's back. "Let's go and see this resistance you mentioned."

We sped back towards Lebowitz's house but instead of stopping at it we hurtled past and onwards into the distance. The sun was almost at its highest point and I figured there to be about nine hours until the black hoarde could come out to play.

We finally stopped in a small wooded glade and came to a halt next to a large stone altar that looked like it had been used for sacrificial purposes at some point in its history. Gathered around it were animals of all kinds, faun Dell and small, human shaped... People.

I climbed off faun Lebowitz's back and stood on the altar. Faces in the crowd looked at me expectantly. For a few seconds I didn't know what to do. Then the idea occured to me that I had better try to organise this rag-tag bunch in front of me into some kind of fighting force.

"Sargeant Lebowitz!" I yelled. "Get these erm... Men... Bears... Stags... Otters... Badgers and Orangutans? Into order."

Faun Lebowitz stared at me with a confused look. "Yes, you." I said.
"But I am not a sargeant." Lebowitz replied.
"Call it a field promotion." I said.

"Yes brave warrior of the earthly plain Ross Douglas, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny, sir!" Faun Lebowitz shouted, reveling in his new found position of power. "Step lively troops I want four rows and I want them NOW!" Lebowitz bellowed.

The assembled animals and human shaped people bumped into each other as they all attempted to stand in the front row just in case there were more field promotions about to be handed out. The scene before me looked like a convention of Marx Brothers impersonators dressed as creatures of the forest and munchkins doing a mass impression of messrs Larry, Curly and Moe.

As the creatures spun and tumbled over one another I looked at Lebowitz and rolled my eyes.

"This is the resistance?" I asked as the creatures continued to fall over each other.
"They are not very good with orders." Lebowitz said. "They consider each other to be equal to the other. There has been no commander as such since the black hoarde killed their last leader. They figured that way if any of them were captured they could say that someone else was the leader and they would be spared the death penalty." He explained.

I shook my head slowly from side to side and wondered what I'd managed to get myself involved in.

I lost my head. "Ok you lot, stand still before I come down there and give you all a slap." I bellowed. Some kind of order was regained and I pointed at the nearest animal to me. It was an Orangutan. "You are now in charge of formation duty. Now line these troops up before I lose my patience."

The Orangutan Saluted with three of its hands and said "OOK!"

The Orangutan took one look at the assembled chaos before it and decided the best plan of action was to slap the first being it laid eyes on. The palm of the Orangutan slapped against the head of a large brown bear and made a noise like someone being slapped with a fish. The brown bear slumped in a heap, knocked out cold.

"OOK!" It yelled.

The rest of the crowd took this to be a pretty good sign that they had better get it together or there would be more slapping and rapidly fell into order. Within a couple of seconds four perfect rows stood before me.

The Orangutan smiled a smile so wide it looked like the front grille of a Bugatti Veyron. The only difference being that the Bugatti Veyron didn't have bits of banana stuck in the gaps or give off a smell that could melt steel at fifteen paces.

"Well done that monkey!" I said, looking down at the slightly more organised, but still as rough looking, bunch of creatures in front of me.
"Ook?" Said the Orangutan.
"What's it saying?" I whispered to Lebowitz who was standing next to the altar.
"It says it is not a monkey, it is a great ape." Said Lebowitz.
"What's the difference?" I asked.
"A monkey will not rip your arms off and beat you to death with them." Lebowitz replied.
"In that case... Well done that great ape!" I said.

I faced the troop of creatures and spoke. "Troop... We are facing an enemy that knows no fear, that outnumbers us and will take no prisoners. But we have the upper hand. And why?" I began.

A raised hand appeared out of the crowd. "Because we've got a slap happy Orangutan?" The owner of the hand said.

"No, we have the upper hand because the enemy does not know what tactic I will be using. They may come among us slaughtering us at will but they do not have the element of surprise." I said, hoping to god I could think of some kind of tactic in the next eight hours to save us all from being slaughtered. "Now troop we must prepare for battle so I tell you now to go and find arms to fight with." I said.

Faun Lebowitz barked an order to the troop and they all went off in search of things to fight the black hoarde with. The only creatures that stayed were faun Lebowitz, his wife faun Dell and the Orangutan.

"Lebowitz." I said. "Why is the Orangutan still here?" I asked.
"Ook..." Said the Orangutan.
"He says he has enough arms sir." Lebowitz translated.
"Point taken." I said.

An hour or so later the rest of the troop had returned carrying an assortment of crude weapons.

While the Orangutan gave out the arms to the creature who most suited the various armaments faun Lebowitz and I studied the surrounding terrain and formulated our plan off attack. Traps were made and planted in the surrounding forest and well armed sentries were placed at strategic places.

With less than an hour until sunset Lebowitz called the troops to order and made a speech.

"Fellow fighters!" He began, "Today we fight for our land, for our children and for our right to live as free animals! We shall not go without a fight! We have the Gods on our side and the great warrior Ross Douglas, slayer of General Itsy, dispatcher of the Easter Bunny and kicker of the black hoardes arse!"

I looked at faun Lebowitz and raised an eyebrow in a questioning gesture. He just smiled and continued rousing the troops into a frenzy. "This human may not be of our land but he fights with us so that we may defeat the enemy of us all and we shall walk in OUR kingdom on OUR terms as Free men, Free Badgers, Free Bears..."

I heard a small voice in the crowd say, "Did he just say free beers?"

Faun Lebowitz repeated his self. Louder. "Free Bears, Free Otters and Free Stags! Now the time draws near when we must stand as one, joined in revolution against the common enemy!"

I looked around at the creatures before me and wondered how many would end the night by giving their lives. A sense of dread passed over me as I looked at Faun Lebowitz and knew then and there that he would be one of the ones not to see the next day.

"The sun sets over the horizon but it will rise again in the morrow, yet it will not shine on the same land, NO! IT WILL SHINE ON A FREE LAND... OUR LAND!"

The gathering of creatures roared and yelled their battle cries. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I felt the adrenalin pumping through my veins. As the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness descended I gave the battle call. "Positions!"

Creatures scattered to their pre-arranged positions and waited for the black hoarde to attack.

I had figured that the leader of the black hoarde would have singled me out as his to kill so I positioned myself beside Faun Lebowitz where I could keep an eye on him and help him if he got into trouble. Little did I know that Lebowitz would give his life to save mine.

Within minutes of the sun setting the hoarde arrived. As one they attacked. Creatures fought bravely and died where they stood. The hoarde had made it through our first line of defense.

Some of the hoarde died by falling into the traps we had set in the most likely places of attack but still they came. The traps we had set dispatched more than a dozen of the hoarde and still they came. As the creatures retreated into the clearing around the altar as they had been instructed a call went up.

"LIGHT THE FIRES!"

All around the clearing a trench had been dug and filled with the most flamable material available to us. There was no equivalent of petrol in this land but one of the dwarf humans grandfater had a history in alchemy and he had the foresight to store enough blackpowder to level a mountain.

The edges of the clearing erupted in flame and the trees around the edge were soon ablaze.

The fire took many of the hoarde to the next life and the light kept them back for a while. But not long. The fires had burned brightly for only a few minutes but now it was sufficiently dark enough to allow them to enter the clearing.

The hoarde leader was last to enter the clearing. As forest creatures and the hoarde battled around the altar I spotted it approaching. Its skin was dripping with the blood of the forest creatures it had slain during the early stages of the battle. The look in its eyes was one of pure hatred.

With very little effort it sliced and slashed its way towards the altar. "Human! I come for you!" It yelled. " Fuck it, I thought and leapt from the altar. Lebowitz and Dell took flanking positions and the Orangutan defended my rear. Once in a while I would hear a loud slap like a fish hitting concrete and a gleeful "OOK!" from behind me.

The hoarde leader stood about ten feet from me. It didn't attack me though. It stood its ground and killed anything that took what they thought was a chance to dispatch it to the next world.

"Your army dwindles human, see how they die at the hands of my brethren." The hoarde learde said with a palpable venom in its voice.

"Not for long they don't." I said, dropping to the ground and shouting "NOW!" as I covered my head. The forest creatures all dropped to the ground when the call went up and the second, and much larger, fires were lit. The black hoarde died as soon as the firelight hit them.

When the noise of the hoarde screaming in their death throws had stooped I stood up and looked around. My plan had worked. There was no black hoarde left in the clearing.

Faun Lebowitz stood up and gave the all clear. We had done it. We had defeated the black hoarde.

From behind me I heard a proud "OOK OOK OOK!" and turned to see the Orangutan standing on the altar with its arms above its head.
"What's he saying?" I asked Faun Lebowitz.
"We kicked arse." Lebowitz translated.
I smiled at Lebowitz and said "We certainly did. We certainly did."

Just then there was a scream. I looked to where the scream had emmited and saw a bloodstained otter pointing upwards. The leader of the black hoarde dropped onto the altar, knocking the Orangutab off its temporary victory perch and then it threw itself at me.

As the hoarde leader flew towards me faun Lebowitz threw himself at the hoarde leader and deflected it from its trajectory. The hoarde leader and faun Lebowitz rolled along the ground fighting as they went. I watched helplessly as the killing blow of the hoarde leaders talons sank into the torso of faun Lebowitz and let out a small involuntary cry.

As the life drained from faun lebowitz's eyes the faun seemed to realise that his time was done.

With the last ounce of strength in his body faun lebowitz sank his teeth into the neck of the hoarde leader and ripped a hunk out of its throat. Green blood spurted into the air like a loose hosepipe as the hoarde leader died.

And so it ended. The battle was won but no one was celebrating. Too many friends and comrades had died. Too much blood had been spilt and too many creatures had been injured and permanently scarred. Both in mind and body.

The sun rose the next day over a free land where faun Lebowitz's children were safely back with their mother and the black hoarde no longer roamed spreading fear and terror wherever they went.

And Me? I was escorted to a shaded valley by the Orangutan where a large scots pine stood alone in the glade. The Orangutan pushed a knothole in the trunk of the tree and a door sprung open. On the other side I could see my hallway.

"Ook." The orangutan said.
"That's goodbye then?" I asked.
"Ook ook." It replied.

The orangutan took my hand and lead me through the doorway. We stepped into my hallway and the orangutan closed the cupboard door behind us. The orangutan took the doorkey out of the keyhole, tasted it apprehensively and bent it double.

"And how do you plan on getting back to your land?" I asked, not really wanting to have to explain to my neighbours why I had suddenly aquired a very hairy and rather smelly flatmate.

"Ook." It replied, pointing at the cupboard door.
"You just locked it and bent the key. I don't have another one." I said.
The orangutan smiled its singular smile turned the handle of the cupboard door.

The cupboard door swung open to my amazement and inside my cupboard I saw a long passageway filled with large dusty books. "Ook." Said the orangutan and stepped inside.

The orangutan extended its hand and shook mine. "Ook ook ook ook, ook ook ook." It said, releasing my hand and closing the door.

I immediatly turned the door handle and found that the door was locked. Possibly forever.

The End.

* The carachter of the Orangutan was borrowed from Terry Pratchett's Diskworld novels and can be found living the life of a librarian in the city of Ankh Morpork. (Where he spends his time wondering just how humans can be so clever and so stupid at the same time and eating bananas.)

How Very Strange...

Today I watched the strangest movie I've ever seen.

Bad Boy Bubby. (Imdb link)

If you are easily offended please, in the name of the Grand Whazoo, never watch this movie.

It's all swings and roundabouts...

Ups and downs, highs and lows, ins and outs (if you're lucky) and peaks and troughs.

I've been in a bit of a trough for the last month or so with my writing. And to be honest I've got no idea why. It's not as if I've sunk into some kind of depression (I can spot a depression induced slump a mile off.) so there really is no rational reason why my mind should choose to dry up quicker than moisturising cream on the face of a pensioner.

Part of the blame may be attributable my dreams.

Lately my dreams have been very "emotionally involving." For the past two weeks the lasting memory I have when I awake is of an old love saying "I can't come with you. That's not my world." Very strange if you ask me. But that's probably not a good idea. Asking me anything is always guaranteed to elicit a reply tha would make a lunatic consider a new life-path.

Truthfully I have no idea what's causing it.

It was him or me...

I awoke this morning to the sound of birds twittering in the early morning light. I scratched my balls, stretched my arms, rolled out of bed and took a look out the window to see what kind of day it was. The sun was rising over the top of the buildings behind mine and the low clouds looked like they would burn off soon enough.

As I glanced downwards into my back garden I saw what seemed to be a giant bunny rabbit carrying a basket of chocolate eggs. I rubbed my eyes, fearing that I was still stoned from the massive hashish bender I had went on the previous night, and looked again.

Sure enough there was a large white rabbit attempting to climb the fence leading from my garden into my neighbours garden. I pulled open the window and leaned out. "OI! Thumper, what the fuck do you think you're playing at?" I yelled.

The rabbit looked up at me and doubled it's effort to scale the fence. (Not an easy job when you're a six foot bunny rabbit wearing a frilly bonnet and matching frilly Gingham apron.) I pulled on my jeans and boots and ran down the stairs.

When I pulled open the back door the giant bunny rabbit stopped trying to climb the fence and turned towards me. I could see fear in it's eyes and I wondered where things were going to lead.

My mind flashed back to my first ever proper job...

I worked in a pet shop doing all the menial tasks; Such as cleaning out the cages of the animals, lifting large bags of pet food around, making cups of coffee and generally being the dogsbody. I'd had a rabbit hutch to clean out and the occupant of the hutch took offense at me for attempting such a thing. It kicked, bit and scratched the hell out of my hands and arms before I decided to let the bastard sit in it's own shit if it wanted to...

"Deja-Vu?" Said the giant bunny rabbit, as it placed it's basket of chocolate eggs gently on the ground. It's red eyes burning into mine.
"What?" I asked, somewhat confused.
"You don't recognise me? Look past the exterior and see your enemy within." It said.

My mind suddenly sparked and I recognised the look of the angry rabbit from many years ago.

"But it can't be you... You were never sold so the owner drowned you in a fishtank after the shop had closed one night." I said.
"You may have seen me drown but my spirit lived on. And now we meet again." The bunny rabbit said.

The bunny rabbit leaped at me with it's teeth exposed and it's claws raised in anger. The shit had officially hit the fan.

I ducked under the leaping rabbit and kicked out at its belly as it flew over me. My foot caught the rabbit perfectly and it let out a pained noise as it attempted to roll with the kick. It skidded along the grass and clanged against the iron post used to suspend the washing line. I leaped at the rabbit and began punching it in the head before it had a chance to regain its senses.

As I rained blow after blow onto its head it attempted to defend itself by putting its front paws up to its face like a boxer. They were useless. I'd gained the upperhand because of its momentary lapse of its senses and it was all over bar the bunny conceding defeat.

"No more." It moaned. I stopped punching and asked if it had had enough. "Yes... I surrender." It said. I looked at what I'd made of it's face in the short time. It's eyes were beginning to swell and its mouth was a bloody mess. There were specks of blood on its Gingham apron and down the front of it's gut, it's fluffy bonnet had been knocked off and it's chest laboured in an attempt to get its breath back.

I stood up and held out my hand to help the bunny rabbit up. It took my hand in its paw and stood up shakily. I turned around and walked towards where the bunny had left its basket of chocolate eggs. I picked up the basket and turned to give it to the defeated bunny.

The bunny was holding a small chocolate egg in its paw. "Rot in hell!" It exclaimed as it threw the egg towards me. I sensed that the small chocolate egg flying through the air was not a gift that I would appreciate and realised that it was probably some kind of explosive device that Jesus gives the Easter Bunny in order to continue his sect, oops, I mean cult, nope sorry, religion. (Jesus, as we all know, carries an Uzi machine pistol these days. It's a tough world out there.)

I spun quickly on my heels and used the basket of chocolate eggs in my hand to launch the small detonator egg back at the Easter Bunny. "Oh Fu..." It managed to say, before the small egg flew into its mouth stifling its speech. The detonator egg exploded and the Easter Bunny's head turned to a fine mist of red. Its body crumpled at the knees and dropped to the floor like 300lb's of wet clothes.

I looked around to see if any of my neighbours had heard the explosion and were looking out of their windows to see what had happened. None were visible. I immediately knew I had a problem on my hands. There I was standing in my back garden holding a rather incriminating basket of Easter eggs while the even more incriminating headless body of the Easter Bunny lay cooling a few feet away.

I dropped the basket and threw myself into action. A quick raid of a neighbours shed provided a spade and a roll of black bin liners. "Just the job." I thought, as I grabbed them and made my way back to the body of the Easter Bunny. I quickly pulled a large roll of bin liners off of the roll and covered the corpse as best I could. Being seen by a neighbour digging a hole to put a black bin liner into can be explained away with the good old fashioned "It's a time capsule, I'm going to dig it up in ten years time" excuse. Being seen by a neighbour burying the corpse of the Easter Bunny is a harder task.

I dug a five foot deep hole 4 and a 1/2' wide by 4' long and dragged the body over to it, doing my best to keep the body covered as much as possible, and dropped it into the makeshift grave. For a second the grave of the great General Itsy caught my eye and I wondered just how many Fairy characters I was destined to bury in my life.

I covered the body of the Easter Bunny with the earth I had dug out of the hole and stamped it down as best I could. There was no time for a formal ceremony as I didn't want to be seen in the early morning light performing a ritual to The Grand Whazoo freaking a casual observer into calling in the law... "Send someone quick, he's dancing naked covered in what looks like chocolate and shooting Cadburys Creme Eggs into the air with a catapult."

I threw the spade, and what was left of the roll of bin liners, into the neighbours' shed, grabbed the basket of eggs and beat a hasty retreat to my flat. I dumped the basket of eggs into the cupboard at the end of my hall and locked the door. If the police came knocking I'd tell them there wasn't a key and door hadn't been unlocked since the day I moved in.

Later, when the sun had made it's way across the sky to return tomorrow, I went into my garden once more and gave the Easter Bunny a burial ceremony to shake the seat of The Grand Whazoo.

Once more my final cry into the night was...

"WHY?"

Break a leg, Son...

I awoke this morning at roughly 11am and found my mobile phone bleeping like Twiki from Buck Rogers having an orgasm. I opened the phone to find that I had three voicemail messages and five missed calls.

I dialed my voicemail and discovered that my mum had left a message saying that she had had a dream that I had broken my leg while having a shower and was unable to get to the phone to call for help. The second message was on the same lines, as was the third. The only difference being that in the second message she was threatening to send my dad to the house to check up on me, and the third call was telling me that she was on her way over if she didn't hear from me in the next five minutes.

I sent a text message to her mobile saying I was fine but it was too late. I looked out of my window and saw that my dads van was parked outside and heard a knock on my front door. I opened it to find my dad standing there with a world weary look on his face.

"Alright Pops." I said. "Mind the leg."

My dad smiled and I looked over the banister to see my mum hobbling up the stairs. She swore at me as she looked up to see I was standing there complete with two perfectly healthy legs. After five minutes or so my Mum was satisfied that I hadn't come a cropper and was fit and well and they left to go back to work in mothers case or watching the horse racing in my dads case.

Parents, gotta love them. Even if one of them is a nutjob...

As mad as a bag of monkeys...

That's what Amanda McLean is.

I don't know if you heard about this one... A woman in Glasgow is convinced that the child that is growing inside her is some kind of miracle after she looked at an ultrasound of her unborn sprog and saw the face of Jesus.

What I'd like to know is why is it whenever a strange image is captured seemingly bearing a resemblance to a human face it's always assumed to be that of Jesus? Perhaps it's not, perhaps it's the face of Ra, Ra, Rasputin, lover of the Russian Queen. There was a cat that really was gone.

Should it turn out that The Mad Monk Rasputin has decided to return to this world to wreak havoc and carnage in Russia again I'd like to be the first to welcome him back. It's been awfully dull without him to liven things up...

I'd also like to know if this phenomenom takes place in other cultures. For example if someone in the far east was to go for an ultrasound and there appeared to be an image of a podgy face do they think it's a picture of Buddha? I doubt it, that lot are more enlightened...

What the Fuck?

There's something desperately wrong with the smoke detector I have in my house.

Last night I was running a bath when the smoke detector began squealing, like a pig having a large cactus inserted into its arsehole, because the steam from the bath drifted along the hallway. This morning I almost set fire to the frying pan, while making my breakfast, filling the kitchen and hallway with acrid smoke and what did the smoke detector do?

Not a goddamn thing.

Should I be killed in a house fire please sue the living fuck out of whatever confederacy of dunces made the smoke detector.