Clare Macnaughton's Blog, page 39

The Case of The Missing Hamster: Chapter Nine

The Ninth Bit:  A touch of Gratuitous violence.

 

 

The fire ball hit me square in the chest, totally ruining one of my favourite shirts.  And I’d never be able to wear that tie again.  Still, it was entertaining watching the ball bounce off my chest and slam into the bread bin, melting it within a second.

“I just bought that.”  Clare snapped, hitting Pete on the back of the head.  “How did you do that?”

“Dated enough witches to know that you always go amuleted up.”  I slapped Pete around the back of the head as it hurts less than hitting a wall while you’re in pain.  “Amulets.  Better than a gun and always chucks the spell back at them threefold.”

There was a brief blur of fur from behind the molten bin, and an overwhelming smell of toast.  Hammy The Hamster had made a break for it.  Straight behind the microwave.

“Be careful with my stuff.”  Clare snapped hitting Pete about the neck.

“Very careful.”  I hit him harder.  After all, he’s my partner.  I get to hit him first.

“Pete.” I said in a stage whisper and clipping him around the ear for emphasis.  “I’ll move the microwave, you punch the hamster.”

“Oh, I don’t think I should do that in public.  I don’t even do that in private.  I wear boxing gloves at night, just in case.”

“What?”  Clare was getting the idea.  My business partner is a moron.

“Well.  I’m not about to intercourse myself while there is a young Lady around.  You’ll not catch me ‘Having a Humphrey’.  Why are you all staring at me like that?”

“Pete.  I actually want you to Punch The Hamster.”  I clocked him on the back of the head.  “Hit it with your fist.”

“And be careful of the wall.”  Clare just had to but in and clip his ear.

“Oh.”  He did have the decency to blush a little.  “I thought you were talking about masturbation.  I suspect that all of the ”

Clare and I took turns in hitting Pete on the back of the head.

“Excuse me.”  The Hamster had stepped out from behind the microwave and was up on its hind legs. Little hands resting on its hips.  “You do know that it is bad form to start a fight and then veer off part way through for a little chat, don’t you?  I happen to be a bloody professional here.  We should be into chucking fireballs all over this kitchen by now.  I should at least have incinerated the jammy little Homunculus, or at least toasted him into toffee.  So if you four would be good enough to start, I would much appreciate it.”  With that the Hamster stopped its little feet off behind the microwave again, muttering about the ‘Unprofessionalism of The British’.

Bloody foreign psychotic Mad Hamsters coming over here and stealing our Psychotic Mad Hamsters work.

 

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The Case of The Missing Hamster: Part Eight

The Eight Bit: Rain of Hellfire… well, if I’m honest, more of a drizzle.

 

 

On the plus side, I only found one more bite mark on Clare.  On the down side, it was on her back and inside a circle of blood.  Nasty work that.  She did scream a bit when I scrubbed it clean with Salt and Rosemary.  I’d live with the guilt somehow.

“So someone marked me?”  She had progressed from Coffee to Whisky now.  Always a good move when dealing with Occultists.  Especially and ten in the morning.   Even when I used to drink I never started at ten in the morning.  Normally by ten, I wasn’t sober enough to negotiate getting the top off the bottle.  Ten Of The Clock was Chemical Enhancement time…. in the old days.

“Yeah.” I said, lighting a fresh smoke and prodding the red end into the open bite mark.  Some more screaming occurred.  “I think you were being marked for a possession.  Damn Runes were too small to read.  Will you please stop screaming, and if you have to hit someone, please hit Pete.  That’s what I keep him around for.”

“True.”  Pete said, healing in front of my eyes.  The joys of Daemonic blood.  “Although sometimes Faustus is nice enough to allow me to be shot or occasionally stabbed.  Perhaps even a light explosion or two.  Normally at the hands of disgruntled husbands.  Oh look Faustus.  A photograph of a husband.  In front of an ATTACK HELLICOPTER.”

I hit him with a handy cheeseboard.  Always helpful.

“So my head was going to spin around and I’d be pebble dashing the walls?”   Clare’s hands were shaking with the newfound energy of someone who’s just found out how the world works.

“Nah.” I said, relighting the smoke.  “It wouldn’t work like that.  They’d simply rip your soul out of your body, stick it somewhere it couldn’t get free and then move into your shell.  Sort of like the ultimate squatter.  The plus side is that it’s not a Daemon or an Angel.  They creep in through the nose.  This is Left Hand Witchery or worse, Mage work,  Mind you, what they’d want with the Hamster I don’t…”

I grabbed her chin and lifted it, getting so up close and personal that I could feel Humphrey vibrating with excitement and wishing he had his video camera.

“Pete.”  I grabbed his head and thrust it under Clare’s chin.  “What do you notice?”

“Ah…  Clare is wearing Sloggi underwear.”

I tilted his head up.

“Oh.  I see what you mean.”

“Would either of you like to let me in on this?” Clare said.  “Or are you just going to choke me?”

I let her go and we both backed off, out of striking range.

“The bites were made by two very sharp teeth.”

“Rodential teeth to be exact.”

“The Hamster bit me?”  Clare flopped into her chair.  I moved the whisky glass out of her reach.  “My hamster is a vampire?”

“Nope.”  I ground my smoke out in the sink.  “Your hamster is a witch.”

“Shall I fire up the barbecue Dad?”  Humph chipped in.

“You do not have the skills to burn me, Mortals.”  Came a really squeaky little voice from somewhere in the kitchen.  “Prepare to die.  Apart from you Lady.  You just get gutted and dumped in a plant pot.”

Now most Dames, ones that aren’t from my world, hearing something like that would do the sensible thing.  Run away.  Given the choice, I’d run away.  I like running away.  It’s good for the heart, and so long as the Mob doesn’t catch you, it keeps you alive.

Clare picked up a carving knife.  Silly Bint.  Should have run away.

Humphrey widdled himself.

Pete started running around in circles and flapping his arms.

I lit another smoke.

A ball of Hellfire hit me square in the chest.

 

 

 

More EM Faustus Adventures can be found at

www.emfaustus.com       or the novels are available on Amazon and Kindle.

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The Case of The Missing Hamster: Part Seven

The Seventh Bit:  The Dame Gets her Kit Off.  (Video’s available upon application to Humphrey at www.dirtylittlepervert.com)

 

 

It was an odd explosion.

There weren’t any bits of him splattered about he just sought of…. blew out.  Then blew back in again.  Then got real fat, then thin then short, then long then… look.  to save using a lot more ‘then’s’ and reducing this to the level of a schoolboy’s essay…. The Little Pervert vanished.

I did the most obvious thing.

I hit Pete in the nose with my elbow, grabbed a handful of blood and threw it into the circle.

It was quite a loud explosion, considering it made no noise.  But it did knock us all off our feet and leave me deaf for a few moments.  I was also left with a strange taste of rubber.

“Fuck in a Bucket.”  Shouted Humphrey.  “That was great.  Can I go again?”

“Don’t you bloody dare.”  Screamed Clare as she got off the floor.  I lay still and looked up at her chin.  What a very pretty chin.  Pretty neck.  Pretty little bite mark.

Sometimes I get lucky.  This was one of them.  True, I prefer getting lucky and naked, but I’d seen a photograph of her husband and any guy who can fly an attack chopper I figured was worth staying on the good side of.  Still.  Sometimes you have to push.

“Sweets.” I said, getting to my feet.  “Get your clothes off.  I need to see…”

That was about as far as I got before the slap hit my face.  Damn that girl could hit.  I’ve had softer hits from a Troll.  I was thankful I’d brought Pete along.  I held him in front of me to soak up the flurry of kicks and punches that followed.  I could handle his pain.

“Look you daft bint.” I shouted over Pete’s whimpering.  “You’ve a bite mark under your chin.  I need to see if you’ve been marked anywhere else.  I’m sure you have a very nice body, and under other circumstances I’d be pleased to look for fun, but someone is bleeding you and putting down Circles of Power.  There’s Witchery here and it needs to be stopped otherwise….”

Clare stopped punching Pete in the face, much to his relief.

“Otherwise what?” she snapped.

“Otherwise you could end up being spit roasted in the Fire Pit of the Third Hell while Daemons prod your squidgy bits with pointed forms.  Or possibly you could be turned inside out.  While you’re alive.  Maybe you’ll grow old in a matter of seconds.”

By the time I got that far, she was peeling off her shirt.

 

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The Case Of The Missing Hamster: Part Six

The Sixth Bit:  Jammy Slippery Pervert

 

 

The hamster cage was empty.  Just like she said it was.  But there was potential evidence in there.   Shame I couldn’t lift the cage off the table.

“Hagar glues it down to stop the kid’s taking the Hamster out.”  Clare said, matter of factly after she had watched me for five minutes try to lift it from the kitchen counter.  “Why do you need in there?  The Hamsters not there.”

“Listen Sweetheart.” I said, only slightly red in the face.  “There could be physical evidence in the cage.  Ectoplasmic residue, possibly a hidden Sigel.  Maybe even a trap door.  I can’t tell unless I get to look in the cage.  I take it that this metal lid…”

“Spot welded.”  She said.  “I don’t think Hagar trusted The Grenade and The Menace not to lift it off to play Escape from Colditiz.”

“Right.  Plan B.” I said.

“Cool.”  Said Clare.  “I’ve got them on my Ipad.  I’ll just go get it, though how you thing English Rap will help I don’t know, but you’re the professional.”

Good grief.  Someone actually believed I knew what I was doing.  I hunched over the cage and held out my hand.

“Pete.  Pass me the Preserved Pervert.”

After some merry bantarage that resulted in Pete getting a slap on the head again, I unscrewed the lid of the jam jar.  Humphrey’s jammy little head appeared.

“Dad.  Dad.  Dad.  She’s covered me in jam.  Do you think she’ll use me as a lollipop Dad.  Ask her.  Ask her Ask her if she’s like to lick the jam off.  Go on Dad.  Ask her and ask her if I can have her autograph Dad.  Go on.  Ask her.”

“Clare.” I said, lifting the Jammy Homunculus out.  “Do you have any lolly sticks?  Humphrey wants to be a lollipop.  I’ll hold him still while you insert the stick.”

“I’ll get a broom handle then shall I?”  Hey.  My kind of Dame.

“Shutting the fuck up now Dad.”

“Now listen up.” I used a fork from the sink to scoop jam out of Humphrey’s ear.  He ate it.  “I want you to get into that cage and have a good root around.  See what there is to be seen.  OK?  And under no circumstances, should you find a hamster, alive or dead, are you to shag it.  Understand?”

Humph looked at the narrow cage bars.

“I dunno Dad.”  He said, sucking jam and ear wax from his teeth.  “Those bars are real close together.  Looks like too tight a squeeze.”

“Yes.” I said, being reasonable.  “But you are nice and slippy with jam and there is a porn mag used to line the bottom of the cage.”

It took Humph less than three seconds to work his way inside.

“You lying Bastard Dad.”  Humph shouted as he cleared sawdust away from the cage floor.  “There’s not a single page of any Gentleman’s Art House Periodical in here.  Only a used lipstick, a toilet roll and a lot of drawing on the floor.”

I looked through the bars at the cage floor.

“Humphrey.”  I said, taking a step back.  “Do not move.  Do not touch anything.  Do not step inside that circle, just get out of the cage.  Now.”

Humph looked up at me from the cage floor and walked towards me.

“Dad.  Will you stop pissing about?  You are not going to freak me out.”

Then Humph exploded.

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The Case of The Missing Hamster: Part Five

The Fifth Bit:  Where The Dame Does the Skinny…. which isn’t a euphemism by the way  Though an interesting visual image.

 

 

I poured Clare a fresh coffee while she talked me through the problem.  I listened.  It’s what I do.

“Things started going strange a few days ago.  The Hamster kept disappearing.  I’d lock him in his cage at night.  He had fruit, nuts, water and a little wheel.  Always running around that bloody wheel.  I’ve oiled it a dozen times, but it still sounds like nails down a blackboard when you’re trying to sleep.  Still.  The Kids love him.  Anyway, I’d get up the next morning and check on him and he’d be gone.  Little bugger keeps me awake all night and then buggers off.  I’d tear the house apart for the entire day and then the little bastard would turn up running around his little wheel.  And the cage would still be locked.  Now that’s impossible.  I didn’t want the kids getting him out on their own, so I bought one of those combination suitcase locks.  It’s never been opened.  I can’t remember the combination.  I hoover his sawdust out.  Pour new in.  He gets food and water through little containers on the side.  He really can’t get out.  But the little bugger does.  Then he’s back in.  And today it’s become worse.  He’s vanished and well… you saw that the toaster went up in smoke.  My hair dryer burst into flames.  My curling tongs set fire to the carpet in the bedroom, even my vi….. even some other things have caught on fire.  All electrically powered.  Or battery powered.  I’ve even unplugged things, but they still go poof.  And some I may never use again.  Probably.  For a while.”

I have to admit I thought it sweet.  She didn’t even blush at the near mention of her vibrator.  Most Dames do.  Hell, her husband was away manoeuvring himself for months at a time.  She had to get lonely.  Just her, on her own, with two kids sleeping and a Hamster Marathon in the kitchen.  Still that was something we could discuss when we found the hamster and sorted out the pyromaniac.

“So can you help?  Can you really help Mr Faustus, because something is very wrong and I need it fixing.”  She rose to her full five foot something.   “I need it fixing soon.  The Children will be home by five and the Women’s Institute are coming around for cheese and wine at seven so if you can help, pull your fucking finger out and get on with it.”

Damn.

I love it when a forceful Posh Dame talks dirty.

 

 

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Carpet Cleaning: How to Achieve Professional Results At Home

Many contemporary homes boast equally contemporary surroundings, which often means clean lines and a minimalistic colour palette. Even families with young children and pets will invest in stylish cream carpets, white sofas and expensive throws. Such items tend to become soiled a lot quicker than darker fabrics and furniture.

In the past, when carpets require cleaning, many would have employed the help of professionals and heavy-duty machines. Now, however, it is possible to achieve professional results alone – as getting products professionally cleaned every time a spill occurred would quickly leave us out of pocket.

Thankfully, today’s marketplace boasts a great deal of home cleaning products and devices. Vacuums are a great option for those that wish to clean their carpets regularly, and also for those that possess dust allergies. They work by sucking dirt particles from the floor and are available in a wide variety of styles and power ranges.

Carpet washers are another option and one that uses a light detergent to shampoo the carpet. This method should only be carried out every now and then, but it’s a good way to revitalise tired flooring.

Quickly gaining popularity

As well as vacuuming, the steam cleaning method is now one of the more preferred carpet-cleaning techniques and uses hot water to extract dirt from the carpet’s surface. It is also a safer method due to the fact fewer chemicals are used. This is especially the case if you wish to live in an eco-friendly environment. Harsh cleaning substances can be especially harmful; children and pets are extremely susceptible to these chemicals.

With the aid of a steam cleaner, many homeowners are finding that they are saving a great deal on professional cleaning costs. Investing in a quality device will allow you to achieve specialised results over and over again. It is, however, important to ensure that you invest in the correct merchandise for your needs. You can easily find out more about this innovative cleaning product by learning the ins and outs of how this machine works.

Detergent-free cleaning power is one of the many benefits of a steam cleaner, which makes it a much safer option. The machine works by breaking down both grime and stubborn stains. This is achieved through the use of powerful jets of steam. Bacteria, allergens and dust mites are also eliminated with the help of higher temperatures.

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Whipping up weekday dinners

I don’t know about you, but during the week I barely have time to think about what to make for dinner, let alone spend hours in front of the stove. However, just because I’m short on time doesn’t mean that I want my family to gorge on greasy takeaways day in, day out.

I’m always looking for ways to create something hearty and nutritious but without having to spend loads of time or money. Here are some great recipes for quick weekday meals that will feed the whole family.

Monday

After a very traditional British roast dinner, what better way to start the week than by bringing a little bit of Mexico to your table? The beauty of making a dish like enchiladas is that you can use whatever meat and vegetables you’ve got in the fridge. Chicken and beef work really well but you could always make it veggie with mushrooms.

Tuesday

I often feel like I also do the same thing with pasta: add a cheese or tomato sauce. However, cream leek and ham pasta is a quick dish and a favourite for the kids. It takes less than 20 minutes to whip up and you can get as adventurous as you like. You don’t have to stick to just leek and ham either and can make it more interesting by adding chicken or switching the ham for bacon.

Wednesday

You might be more used to eating fish on a Friday but this healthy mid-week supper is not one to miss. Grilled salmon and vegetable couscous is incredibly quick – less than 10 minutes – but still manages to offer something fresh and tasty.  Add extra flavour to the salmon by cooking it with garlic and adding a squeeze of lemon

Thursday

Spaghetti Bolognese has been a long time favourite of mine but I feel like I eat it all the time. For a twist on this classic, I stuff roasted red peppers with the Bolognese mixture and serve it with potato wedges for something a bit different. It’s easy, delicious and very filling.

Friday

Ah… it’s finally the weekend! Thousands of families will be on the phone to their local takeaway tonight but if you want something a bit healthier and cheaper, whip up your own chicken curry. You don’t have to have a superior knowledge of Indian cooking to make a nice curry, just the right powder of spice mix.

So there you have it – five easy weekday meals for the whole family to enjoy.

This post is brought to you in association with Schwartz.

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The Case of The Missing Hamster: Part Four.

The Fourth Bit:  Where explanations are given and a pervert is covered in jam.

 

 

We were sat on and around the kitchen table.  I was in a chair opposite Clare.  Pete was sat to my right.  Humphrey was wedged into a pot of raspberry jam.  He’d fought a bit, but after I found him rummaging through Clares dirty underwear it seemed like an idea.

“So HE is who I’ve been talking to on the internet?”  She pointed one of my smoking smokes at Humph in a jar.  “He’s the one who wanted me to send him my underwear for forensic examination?”

“Yep.”

“And HE is not actually a six foot tall, chisel jawed, tough as nails Private Eye?”

“Nope.”

“He is actually, part frog, part human, part degenerate pervert with a penchant for shagging fruit, vegetables, anything he can stop moving and ladies underwear?”

“That’s about it.”

“I’m taller if you think of me as standing far away Doll.” Humph said.  Clare screwed the lid on the jar.

“So you two and a bit Private Eye’s work with the … Undead.”

“Actually.” Pete chipped in.  “With the exception of Zombies, who ARE actually dead, everyone we know is alive.  Oh.  Apart from the ghosts.  The term we tend to use is differently alive.  It saves a lot of confusion.  And having your throat ripped out by a pre-menstrual werewolf.  Oh.  No.  Not making that little mistake again.  Might I ask you a small question Miss Clare?”

“Yeah…. Feel free.”  Clare said, her jaw hanging open.  She was getting that look most do when confronted with Pete and Humphrey.  And people wonder why I try to keep them locked up.

“Are you planning on having sexual relations with my business partner, perhaps doing The Trick with The Five Scarves and The Ice Cubes, which tends to leave the ladies screaming for a variety of God’s, and then after sating your sexual lusts, fall out with him and attacking him with a variety of lethal forms of retribution from axes and cork screws to cars, boats, planes and the occasional Monster from an Alternate dimension?”  Pete asked.

Clare shook her head slowly.

“Well, just in case you two do end up intercoursing each other silly, might I ask if you have a jealous husband who will attempt to remove my business partners genitals, internal organs, genitals, limbs, genitals or head with a bladed or mechanical device such as a chainsaw, hedge trimmer or garden strimmer?”

Clare shook her head again.  The end of the smoke fell onto the table cloth.

“Oh Goody.” Pete said.  “I ask the question as a lot… no.  Make that all.  All of the women who Faustus intercourses attempt to kill him at some time or other.  Sometimes they even attempt to use explosives.  Ah, the happy times we have had cleaning the office after the regular fire bombing.  So we are no stranger to arson.  Indeed, my partner Mr Faustus there.  The gentleman who is glowering at me.  He has been known to have the odd asrsonic episode in his own right.  I just thought that I should check.  Primarily because someone has obviously been setting fire to this house and I’d hate to think it was a character flaw in such a pretty young lady as yourself.”

“He’s a gnome.”  Clare said pointing at Humphrey.  “He’s a fucking Nut Job.”  She pointed at Pete.  “So what the fuck are You?  Sherlock Holmes?”

“Wrong genre Sweetheart.” I said, making with a fresh smoke.  “I’m strictly a Fourties Noir kind of guy.  If anything, I’m an anachronism.”   I watched the smoke begin to burn.  Interesting that.  I hadn’t lit it.

“Still.  It doesn’t change the fact that someone has been setting fires this morning Sweet Heart, but what’s all this about a hamster?”

 

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The Case Of The Missing Hamster: Part Three

The Third Bit:  Pervert Obsessives and Handily Placed Cricket Bats.

 

“Clare?” I said as the door opened and I instantly saw exactly why Humphrey had wanted us to travel hundreds of miles.

She had naturally auburn hair that had seen a touch of a blonde bottle and wasn’t the bottle happy for the chance to play with perfection.  She had a face men would fall on their swords if it brought the chance of a killer smile.  Fine by me.  Let them be sausages on sticks, it would give me a chance to kiss her hard enough to bruise the back of her skull.  And the body….  That was a body that took time out to get the joints oiled to move with that much ‘saunter’.

This dame was seriously smoking.  Then again, so was the kitchen.

“Yes?” She said in a soft Yorkshire accent that caused Humphrey to vibrate with the perverted excitement of an electrocuted adult toy.

“Your kitchens on fire.” I said making with a smoke.

“Fuck.”

Only taking the time to slam the door in my face the sound of running feet then a fire extinguisher was heard.  At least she slammed the door.  Very security conscious.  Dame was growing on me.

“See what I mean Dad.  See what I mean.  I mean…. Damn…. She’s a looker.  I mean a real looker.  She’s got a smile, and legs and hair and the greatest pair of ti….”

I hit Humphrey with a casual cricket bat.  Handy that there was one outside the door.  I lifted him from the rose bushes and held him in front of my face.

“Humphrey.” I said.  “When talking about ladies, you don’t have to concentrate entirely upon their breasts, as nice as they were, and yes, I did look.  We do this for the sake of good manners and because it is just possible that her friends, family and close personal acquaintances may read this and I’ve enough people wanting to see my blood spilled without adding an entire new set of people.  Understand?”

“At risk of being hit with a cricket bat again, can I please finish my sentence?”

I stood Humphrey on the lawn and took a firm hold on the cricket bat.  “Go on.”

“A great pair of tiny little humans kicking around.  Children.  She calls one The Menace and the other The Grenade.  I’m a fan.  I got her book off Pete’s Kindle and read it all the way through.  Twice.  I love it.  Especially when she talks all dirty.  And then I met her on Faeces Book, and we got talking and she told me that she had a little problem and I said we could help.  And you’re giving me that look that says I’m going into the washing machine with a box of rocks and Pete’s underwear later.”

I dropped the cricket bat and walked back to the door.  It opened on cue.

“So.  What do you want?” Clare snapped, looking slightly singed.

I slipped her a business card and thought about slipping her a couple of other things.  She read my mind but couldn’t prove it.

“Let me get this right.”  She said with a glare that made my blood boil, though a proportion of that temperature was lust.  “You’ve travelled hundreds of miles to help me find a lost Hamster?”

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The Case of The Missing Hamster: Part Two

 

The Second Bit:  Don’t go near the fruit.

 

 

“You drug taking, perverted, wee malicious, perverted, chain smoking, self-abusing, perverted, degenerate, six inch tall, perverted, fruit molesting, psychotic perverted wee little perverted bastard of an Homunculus, Humphrey.”

“Did you really have to use the word ‘perverted’ so many times in that sentence Faustus?” Pete said.  Pete.  My business partner.  Half Angel, half Daemon, half human.  Don’t get hung up on the maths.  He looks like an anorexic pipe cleaner.  He’s too nice for his own good.  Apart from when he pulls some Goon’s head off. Then he’s useful.

“Did you see what the Dirty Little Pervert did to the fruit bowl?” I said, throwing a smoke out of the car’s window.   “Did you?  You didn’t, did you?”

“Ohhh.  That reminds me.”  Pete reached into his pocket and took out a pear.  “I brought some fruit for the journey.”  He took a big juicy bite from the pear, dabbing at the juice on his chin with a hankie.  “The fruit tastes fine.  I don’t know why you electrified the fruit bowl in the first place.”  He munched away at his pear.

“I did that because the Dirty Little Pervert has been drilling holes into the fruit again and shagging it.”  True.  I did wait until he’d finished the pair before I said it.  “He says it never once asked him to stop.”

There was a short period of time, while Pete threw up.  I may have smirked and smoked at the same time.  Humphrey may have begged to be let out of the glove box.  I ignored him.

Humphrey is a… problem.  He is technically… family.  My Son.  Technically as I gave birth to the little bastard, through my nose as the result of a nasty little run in with a Research Wizard.  Sort who’d break the Universe just to see how it worked.  I couldn’t get rid of him.  No matter how many times I post him off to people, he finds his way home.

And then he discovered the Interweb.

They let any Pervert on there.  Strange to think that he’s not even nearly the worst.

And that was the reason we were in the Arse End of England, surrounded by fucking trees, green stuff on the floor and bushes with flower in them.  County.  Chocolate Box Britain.  Not a decent alley to hide in anywhere.

All because Humphrey wanted to get laid and had offered our services to a Dame.

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