Harry Stottle's Onion

CHAPTER ONE

The environmental health officer feigned going to the lavatory and escaped through a window. He stuffed the onion in his pocket and falling onto the grass he bumped into nothing, who promptly asked to borrow tend pounds then continued on his way. The officer brushed his suit down, put his wallet away he could be of no greater service. Leaving a heap of pamphlets about contamination risk, contact telephone number and a riot was about as much as any decent first grade environmental health officer of the public relationships department, who had never lost a crowd could do.

The sleepy village of Walston situated in a picturesque landscape deep in the heart of Drusbashire boasts many splendid walks and un discovered forests and other such quaint gems, reportedly the last known credible sighting of the Sasquatch. Walston was a sleepy village and thus Walston got back to its usual business of being a sleepy little village. Yet many questions remained un answered; such as was a rainy brain a super power, why were Walston pigeons so down trodden and just what was the reason behind Libya’s trains being over run with shoddy homosexual seaman. It was also noted in the Walston Gazette that the butcher was a serial sex pest and a spotty youth fractured his skull whilst leaping from a barn with his pockets inexplicably full of condoms.

CHAPTER TWO

Walston Grammar school had once been a mental asylum, its early Victorian façade loomed high above the common grounds were students would lounge in the sun, hitching up their warm skirts and playing all manner of juvenile games, the flowers were tended with a supreme devotion by the handy man of the village, Harry. The tall oak trees innocently lowered their wise branches shielding the thoughtful tribes of academics musing over impossible maths questions whilst swapping lunch treats. The occasional squirrel would poke nosily into un-attended rucksacks; queerly and many say uniquely to Walston, the squirrels would often steal a pen and in a parody of human word craft scribble nonsense straight onto the smooth innocent virginal sheets of paper. The girls would delight at this and fall about the grass, legs raised in belly laughter. A black jay or two would patter along too thin branches chasing the immovable yet ever elusive berries the entire scene was one of eternal beautific innocence. Mr Trevrep stood by his window, ever so slightly to the left so as anyone looking up from the sun heavy grass would not see him. A slight groan left his lips as he watched the student’s frolic below.

-So Clair you were caught smoking again! Reluctantly Mr Trevrep left the window and manoeuvred toward Clair.

-So what, I like it I like a lot of things, sir! Clair jested saucily, Mr Trevrep croaked agonisingly as he turned suddenly away from Clair and back toward the window.

-You do, I know you do, I’ll give it to you, one big fat screaming pen-…’

-Sir? Interrupted the puzzled schoolgirl as Mr Trevrep appeared lost in some brutal erotic reverie of his own.

-You know its naughty to smoke! Whispered Mr Trevrep as his nose touched the glass before him. He spied three girls playing some kind of kiss and chase, growling he began stroking the lead in between the neat glass.

-I’m a juvenile sir I should be naughty! Returned Clair smartly. Mr Trevrep kept his back toward Clair, she frowned as he made occasional groans and what sounded like rusty burps.

-Get her, yeah I knew you will (whispered Mr Trevrep) oh no she’s got you, like a snake, crushing your pert chest, that slimy vein beast, contracting about your naïve chest, get her again…

-Sir did you hear about that spill last week, (asked the youth as she fingered her hair with boredom) up towards the reservoir, apparently a crazy man ran off into the woods…naked!

-Can’t blame a man for his spillage in a wood, why can you blame him? Go on you filthy fat rump pig beg her to tickle you, “ooook tickle me tickle me” go on you fuc-…!

-Sir, did you hear about it?

-Yeah you’ll all hear the ‘BIG SPILLAGE’ you little bas-…

-Sir, are you okay sir? Enquired Clair as she made her way to the door, she rested her hand on the door knob as Mr Trevrep began thrusting his hips at the glass, vigorously flicking at un seen foes above his head.

-Oooh look a little squirrel.

-Sir I can stay if you are feeling un well?

-If you stay I'll love you too much! Growled Mr Trevrep as he poked an accusing finger against the glass at the pupils playing gaily below!

CHAPTER THREE

-Hello my name is Bruno I'm a representative from the environmental health, I am delighted to be here in... Malston…(The officer began, the reaction to this was akin to that of a thousand monkeys with a thousand type writers simultaneously running out of ink and paper)…

-MALSTON, FUCK OFF! Came the incredulous roar; someone through an onion...it missed.

-Do we look like maniacs? Enquired a woman with a rain coat fastened about her neck as a man tried to force a bicycle into her hand, she angrily refused.

-This be Walston! (LIan whispered softly into Bruno's ear) that Malston is full of nutters!

-Oh WALSTON, the home of the homosexual sasquatch! (Bruno recalled happily. The crowd began booing, he dragged a thin white hand though his thin black hair, one diminutive member of the mob seemed to notice this act with secret electrifying delight.)...well as you know a chemical, a harmless chemical, barely a chemical really; more like strange water! Was accidentally released into your water supply...it will affect primarily your brains....

-What does this chemical do to our brains? Enquired a tall gangly ginger boy as he scribbled wildly in a small note pad.

-Is your cardigan okay? Enquired Bruno!

-It's a cardigan, why does everybody ask that? Nellus replied suspiciously, the crowd around him looked sympathetically at the cardigan.

-It looks in pain!

-It's not in vogue, i'd be suicidal (suggested Jake' small brother)...it makes you look, I didn't want to be the one to bring this up, FAT.

-The innocent pure, gentle fat ones are the dirtiest, they only cry out of lust! Came a husky voice.

-Why not take it off and give it a rest for awhile! Suggested a fat bald man beside Nellus, several others offered similar suggestions.

The crowd lapsed into several different discussions, Bruno stood quietly watching, gently pushing the onion away which was being repeatedly offered to him by the hairy old man.

-I don't want it!

-That's what they all say, bitches of gloriousness! Came the disembodied grunt. The room suddenly fell silent. A few moments of discomfort introduced themselves to all present before making themselves at home in Bruno's stomach.

-My brain? ( screamed a pale faced man ) What’s it going to do to this brain? (Bellowed a man as he walloped the side of his skull with his fist.)...sod the cardigan me brain hurts! He croaked as he numbly walloped his head again.

-Our brains is affected? Screamed a young women.

-Nooooo! Questioned an astonished lady, her friends nodded in agreement.

-Not in a bad way (complained the environmental health officer bitterly, he had a suspicious he was losing them already) its more of a personality, a psychological defect, short term, its not like your going to become zombies! He chuckled light heartedly.

-Zombies! (Screamed a women at the back of he hall assembling some type of spear out of a brushless broom and a large severe looking kitchen knife) dear god I knew it, can somebody save us? Screamed the women who had previously wrapped cloth around her neck, wrists and ankles, it was the right thing to do - the book said. A man beside her decided she was onto something and began wrapping a scarf around his own neck.

-What’s a phobia? Asked Jake's small brother in a soft affecitionate tone that had hints of 'just give the man with the remarkably smooth looking hands a chance'! Jake's tall brother slapped Jake's small brother round the back of the head.

-Pack it in, we've discussed that with Father Shamus!

-Well that’s a good question! A good question. put your hand up if you have developed a sudden fear of bikes? (Enquired the officer feeling as if he may finally be getting somewhere)…Okay bikes was a bad example…lets try becoming spectrophobic!

-Whose he and why does he hate bikes so much?

-Lay off the bikes pally or I’ll have ya! Came a faceless threat.

-Not bikes! Ghosts, a phobia of spectres, ghouls and the like!

-Hey mista I'm on your side (Jake's smaller brother shook Bruno's hand warmly) ooh is that Shea butter?

-Yes it is actually! Smiled Bruno.

-Oh that is divine! He winked.

-Thank you, your the most normal person I've met today!

-I'm just a nice guy! Blushed Jake's small brother.

-I think this Mr Spectopic has a right to be afraid of the non corporeal elements of this universe, a disenfranchised soul ever looming on the oblique side of matter, at one and the same time here but frustratingly distant from ones relatives, who wouldn’t be in terror of such apparitions? Remarked the plump Tesco lady as she accepted a free bike from a stranger in the crowd.

-Yep I knew it he’s mental this guy! (Said Jake’s small brother to all who would listen however he knew is heart was not in it) I don't have any feelings towads him to speak of, either way, normal or otherwise, what is normal, you can't tell me! (he moaned pointing to a man with a deflated yellow dingy) what is normal, you can't tell me either, you've got a spear!( Jake's small brother sighed and gingerly sniffed his hand)...shea butter, Uhm!

-I’m not saying any of you are spectophic it is just an example of the kind of phobia you may develop, like a fear of spiders, or heights or whatever!

-I've a got a phobia for you; loving the sexy bastards too much! Wept the unseen voice

-Can I have my onion back?

CHAPTER FOUR (A)

Mr Walston paced up and down the office, he was often agitated first thing in the morning but Nellus could not smell the usual stale odour of gin and whores on the great mans breath.

-Nellus you go to this bloody vegetable gala, I just can’t do it!

-You can Mr Walston! Reassured Nellus Von Derit with a smile that traversed his face with remarkable speed reached his cheek bones with wild abandon, circled his eyes playfully before coming to a full stop on his chin painfully trying to remember what its purpose was, there it remained in awkward embarrassment.

-Nellus you and your sister are 100% related!

-Oh yes!

-Right (Mr Walston shuddered momentarily) I won’t do it! Drusba won’t do it, can’t do it, since bloody when? But just the idea of being in that room with all those…those dirty little ant shit fed lumps sends me crazy, do you know they are grown in mud, dirty filthy snail shit mud and they want me to judge which snail shitty fruit is the best, Jesus I’ll murder somebody! Mr Walston collapsed into a tumbler of whiskey and lit a cigarette at the bottom.

-I’ll do it Mr Walston, I’ll be a judge!

-Dear me Derit you can’t judge the distance between your ass and your brain successfully!

-I could report on it! You know my note taking skills could use some practice, not since the riot have I had a chance to exercise my precise and immaculate manner of detailing the essence of such things! Replied Nellus enthusiastically.

-You do have a skill in that department your articles get more mail that than hairy mad bastard Stottle! All those grubby bulbs and carrots, that fuzzy broccoli and cabbage…! Mr Walston seemed to be throttling an imaginary object in his hands.

-So I am on the case?

-What? (Mr Walston snapped out of his reverie) of course Nellus you do that!

CHAPTER FOUR (B)

Mr Nommag was by no means an evil man, had no great hate for anybody and was generous to all; he owed nobody a penny and was always polite to strangers and regular customers alike - being so thoroughly likeable in such a small village invariably meant he was hated by all. Mr Nommag saw Nellus walk into the hall with the half-wit Lian. He was determined to get even with the slanderous cretin, he had ‘prepared’ a very ‘special’ sausage for Nellus, in the hate addled semi-broil of mind Mr Nommag giggled to himself as the sausage making machine dribbled out the ‘special’ ingredients into a thin transparent skin. Mr Nommag did feel a slight pang of guilt, he was contemplating murder after all, however Nellus had strated the whole thing and it was for that reason and no other, that Nellus Von Derit the local gossip slag had to die. Mr Nommag permitted himself another giggle.

Nommag had paid above and further beyond common sense for the patch next to last years runner up in the 'Vegetables got Talent' category, a singing turnip called Terence but his stage name was The Amazing Singing Turnip'. Nommag knew Nellus would not abe able to resist that type of story, it basically wrote itself. Mr Nommag had moved into Walston twenty yeas previously from Malston, he had a suspicion many locals still did not think he was bona fide, or even human.

Miss Glas Von Derit passed by with a mucky smirk attached to her posterior. Mr Nommag winked at her but informed the mucky smirk in no uncertain terms to hop it. Lost momentarily in a one way conversation with the long sumptuous legs of Miss Derit, Mr Nommag the butcher failed to see the primary school teacher Miss Eltneg grab his ‘special’ sausage, however just in time he turned to grab one end of the fat poisonous beast.

-No you can’t have that one!

-But I want it! She yelped.

-No miss I assure you, you won’t like it!

-That is for me to decide, take my five pounds and let me have it! She squawked.

-Oh just give it to her man! Gobbled Mr Trevrep as he shuffled passed keeping his eyes on Miss Von Derit. The butcher violently shook is head. Nellus turned suddenly to witness the debacle between Nommaag and good Miss Eltneg unfold, he reluctantly took out his blue note book, the press had to give a voice to the vulnerable in society.

CHAPTER FIVE (A)

The representative from the environment health looked panicked, in part this panic was inspired by the strange collection of angry locals before him, partly to the fact a man dressed in chef’s white at the back was holding an umbrella in one hand and a deflated yellow dingy in the other; partly due to a tall ginger man feverishly taking notes ‘Probably a performance inspector, I’ll show him an environmental health officer he can be proud of’ thought the officer of the environmental health public relations branch; the main surprise was the absolute lack of PC Selesu. ‘They’re going to lock me inside a wooden man and burn me alive’ he thought sadly.

The officer from the environmental health noted how the local MP had failed to show also he recalled the last conversation they had had. At that time the environmental health officer was not to know that the right honourable MP for Drusbashire had not only visited Walston previously but was expecting a confirmation call from the environmental health board.

-Hello this is the office of the environmental health calling for Mr Rail!

-Good afternoon this is Mizaw kebab’s free garlic bread take away offer today, hello Mr. how may I help you?

-Oh I’m sorry, this is Bruno Gumshanky from the environmental health!

-Oh that is lovely, would you like poppadoms with that sir?

-I would like to speak to a Mr Rail concerning a joint trip to Wa-…

-Naan bread’s are priced separately sir!

-Look here sunny Jim, I want to speak to someone in charge!

-Momma out today sir!

-Don’t get smart with me you cret-…

-Chutney wise choice sir, a connosseur! Remarked the Indian sounding man on the other end.

-You sound white!

-How dare you sir! My skin may be brown but I have many feelings! Remarked Mizaw Kebabs with indignation.

-You sound like a white person pretending to be Indian!

-What a thing to say to me, oh dear dear, what a man you are, do you eat soup with that mouth?

-Can I please speak to Mr Rail? (Replied Bruno irritably. He over heard the man on the other end apparently chatting to another member of the Mizaw Kebab team ‘Abdul come here, listen to this joker, oh I am hurt, Abdul come here…so he tell me I’m white, this man want curry but no Indian to serve him…Abdul come here…! Feeling a sense of deep shame Bruno jumped in) look I’m sorry if I offended you!

-You lucky my momma-not-answer the phone today sir wanting curry as you are clearly needing!

-But I’m sure I dialled the right number! (Mumbled Bruno Gumhsankly vague tones of self doubt began to creep into his mind) oh I’m sorry…! Just as he was about to return the phone to its pad Bruno distinctly heard a young ladies voice “Mr Rail your 12’o’clock has arrived”

-Goodbye no curry for you good day! The line went dead.

CHAPTER FIVE (B)

It occurred to the environmental health officer he was going to have a bad day! The officer’s previously neat suit was ruffled in part due to the long car journey, in part to the fact a mob had desperately tried to relieve him of it; the environmental health officer liked his suit just where it was.

PC Selesu had arrived on time to oversee the safe passage of the environmental health officer and the local MP into the hall, however as the crowd thickened he inexplicably vanished. He left a polite notice on the door

-Polite notice - PLEASE BEHAVE NICELY - Drusbashire police.

An old dirty looking man with more hair than Bruno had seen on any human being beckoned the environmental health officer public relations representative to kneel, Bruno dutifully did, smiling all the while; the thing before him he was later informed was the caretaker.

-Unravel the water-eyed onion! Gargled the old man helpfully smiling benignly.

-Are you the mayor? Replied Bruno cockily. The ginger man in a frustrated cardigan moved through the crowd like a bad smell, a smell that in essence resembled a tall gangly ginger boy/man with a down on its luck looking cardigan.

The cardigan actually exuded a distinctly specific fabric felt shame for being worn by such a specimen of humanity. The cardigan gave the impression that it had found its owner in some dry smelling charity shop behind the videos and porcelain tigers, under an old desk and behind a curtain, through a door and nestled in a skip between a cracked yellow decanter and a doll with its head missing.

CHAPTER SIX

The driver climbed down from his rig, he had only been with ‘Express Freight’ for a week when he was given the Walston assignment, the cargo he was informed by two sly looking men in suits was only ‘vaguely chemical’ this made him feel un easy from the off and so he immediately went to find his supervisor.

-Mike, what does vaguely chemical mean?

-Why have you no shoes on? Mike replied looking curiously at the bare feet.

-I’m a practicing Nelipot you know that Mike!

-Do I, well just make sure you get some shoes! Replied Mike still glaring at the bare feet.

-Shoes are not the issue, vague chemical is! Stressed the shoe-less driver as he fumbled expectedly into his pocket, he looked suddenly puzzled.

-I don’t know, it’s vague about being a chemical! Replied Mike without looking up from the bare feet spectacle he directed two lorry drivers as to the whereabouts of their rigs. Lorry drivers A and B paused looked at the bare feet and asked in bemused union.

-Where are your shoes?

-I am a trainee Nelipot, Jesus what is wrong with people? (Grumbled the driver shaking his head bitterly, the two drivers moved along. The shoe-less driver looked suspiciously to his left, then conspiratorially to his right) is it d-a-n-g-e-r-o-u-s?

-Would I assign you, my own brother in law a ‘dangerous’ assignment?

-If it meant you didn’t have to take it, yes you bloody would!

-I’ve been to Walston it is a quiet lovely picturesque village, look read the tourist information guide, why would they lie they don't even know you!

-Okay, then you take it!

-I have my own rig!

-What are you hauling?

-Eggs to Anglesea!

-EGGS! (Raged the shoe-less driver spittle forming on his lower lip) what would you have done if the invoice read ‘vaguely eggs’ you would think “why’s that then?” what on earth is a vague egg?

-No I would not, I don't talk to eggs who does/

-You would say 'Hello egg, “Don’t label me!” Oh sorry egg I forgot your vague' I won't do it!

-Go to Walston, it’s not vague it is that simple! Oh and put some shoes on!

-I can’t!

The shoe-less driver peered suspiciously at his rig. Barrel after barrel of ‘vaguely chemical’ worried him; He fumbled in his jacket pocket and to his horror realised he had left his medication at home beside the kettle. That was the last straw, stress made him behave 'abnormally' without his medication it would end in disaster. He decided he would not take the load, he was a man of principle, a good man, honest, proud and a believer in the rights of men. He was aslo a sex addict and monthly subscriber to 'YOUNG NUNS EAT CUM' being such a man he thought about the pay and took his rig to Walston.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The environmental health officer paused momentarily and watched the crowd, it appeared to be breaking up into distinct factions and a chill ran down his spine, jogged along his pelvis, sauntered through his liver and met some distant cousins cowering in the kidneys. Walton a picturesque quiet village.

-It is a chemical induced phobia - nothing about your bloody brains phobia not brains! Wailed the officer exhaustedly.

-What as this got to do with Libya’s trains? Enquired an old woman as her husband desperately tried to doze.

-Libya? Been there - I was a merchant seaman you know?

-What dear, Lydia is here (The old cotton lady glanced around slowly dropping the tablets on the floor guiltily) where, where is Lydia we have bridge on Tuesday, as she gone already?

-Nothing, Libya’s not even important! Stressed the environmental health officer as the chill that went down his spine earlier now came back up with relatives. Lian began edging slowly toward the lavatory, Bruno remained stood fast, pleading for reason. Lian pulled many twisted and contorted expressions hoping to convince the crowd he really did need to go.

-You try telling Colonel Gadaffi that mate! Remarked Jim Jake’s tall brother.

-Yeah he’ll knock your block off (Began Jakes small brother, the crowd roared again they had found their champion) with a gun, yeah a gun, a loaded gun which he deliberately chooses to bludgeon you to death with! You scream 'shoot me shoot me' but he doesn't want to shoot you. He wants to help me shower, gently passing you the shampoo so your lovely black hair can get all glisteny, vibrant and full of body!

-Mike?

-Yeah he'll forego the more orthodox usage which would be to empty an agonising round into your head; but you know he wouldn't do that to your lovely head, all that naughty thick black hair, come on be reall who'd ruin a masterpiece? Not me, I sure wouldn't! He'd rent your favourite movie and cook you a lovely meal, possibly a lovely coq au vin for mains and mille-feuilles for afters! Then after a sumptuous full body rub, just talk about the stresses of being a dictator, understand him, just listen to him pour his heart out, okay!

-Mike!!!

-But really are you sure you’re not mental? (Asked Jake’s small brother with a convincing air of compassion. Blushing he quickly turned to the crowd around him)...that man is definitely mental keep him away from our bikes!

-Phobias! Balls, so suddenly the whole town is going to start fearing spiders and heights, balls! Spat Mr Walston angrily, a pretty young girl on his arm smiled appreciatively every time he mentioned ‘balls’.

-Lets go my little pussy will be lonely! She drooped her bottom lip childishly.

-But I already fear spiders, does that mean I’ll get a replacement phobia, well in that case can I request that I fear my job?

-If he’s getting that can I fear my wife?

-What if my phobia is a fear of phobias? Does that mean I will be instantaneously cured?

-The brains, the brains, have we all forgotten the brains? Bemoaned a plump mother of six as she patted her oversized brood lovingly on their heads.

-Unravel the skin unravel the skin!

A couple of men with banners proclaiming the sensitivity of bikes made a calculated lunge for the stage, however four burly men with jogging bottomes fastened round their necks barred the way. Lian began angrily shouting into his finger informing his team to tighten it up. The environmental health officer resigned himself to defeat as he narrowly avoided a globule of phlegm that missile shaped passed his nose. For a brief moment he was sure he saw PC Selesu talking to a naked man outside.

-Not me too! Bemoaned the officer sadly as he began flinging pamphlets into the air as the exsibilations of the crowd grew!

CHAPTER EIGHT

PC Selesu drove slowly in the rain, he had heard a loud bang, but ‘haste makes waste’ he told himself, it was the way he did things, professionally and in the best interests of the general peace. He always took an extra pair of boots and crisp pair of socks when he was patrolling. He enjoyed fresh warm socks it was his way, behind him he could still see the moped following, PC Selesu shook his head, he was sure that what was happening must be classed as stalking, he pondered whether or not a Police Constable could be stalked.

Suddenly he slowed further still as he saw what appeared to be an up turned truck half in and half out of the Walston Valley reservoir. On closer inspection it turned out to be an up turned truck half in and half out of the Walston reservoir. He pulled his patrol car onto the grassy verge and wrapped his waterproofs tightly about his person as he stepped out into the stormy bleak night, flash light dashing. The moped behind him chocked to a halt as a tall gangly man/boy in a depressed looking cardigan removed his helmet and fell in line behind the police officer.

-What is it Selesu? Enquired the gangly youth.

-Why’s your cardigan sad?

-What?

-Nothing Derit go home this is police business (Snapped the officer as he put his free hand above his eyes to shield them from the rain, whilst his torch hand scanned the road ahead of him. Stumbling toward him PC Selesu saw a bare footed man waving his hands and shouting.)...hello, what happened! Barked PC Selesu hesitantly as his boots crunched glass.

-Vague chemicals beware! Hee hee hee.

-Is this important? Enquired the tall gangly youth.

-Pardon, did you bump your head? (Began PC Selesu as he radioed in the accident/incident to dispatch) what happened…calm down?

-I drank the vagueness! Screamed the dishevelled driver, as he began tearing at his damp overalls.

-You better put some shoes on, there’s glass everywhere! Offered PC Selesu, this seemed to appal the hobbling man. Who immediately bemoaned the narrow mindedness of the world before leaping down an adjacent embankment; PC Selesu looked up scornfully at the driving rain. In the distance the police officer saw a large van drawing near; he promptly flashed his torch raising it above his head, the truck stopped.

-Hello Derit, Hello PC Selesu (Beamed Hugo) vhy I came to ingliz-land, Zis vain is l-o-v-e-l-y! Smiled the fat man inside the truck.

-Hello Hugo! Replied Derit with a bored expression on his face.

-Hello Hugo, I think there has been some kind of accident, best pull to the side until the fire brigade arrives, his (PC Selesu prodded an accusing thumb in the direction of the delirious truck driver who was failing to cross a muddy ditch) I think he bumped his head.

-Vahy he no shoes?

-It’s his head I’d worry about!

-I don’t think there is a story here! Complained Derit as he desperately tried to stop his cardigan from flying off into the wind.

-No vorries, I….(Hugo composed himself) love your ingliz vain! Beamed the happy fat man as he shot his hand out to catch the falling droplets)…aha I am ze vain cat-chka! Chortled Hugo loudly, Selesu and Derit looked at each other blankly, both shrugging their shoulders. Derit made a note of this.

-Fine, but do not pass until I give the all clear, OKAY Hugo!

-I am ze vain cat-chka!

-Hugo! Blasted Selesu.

-Yah Yah, vine!

-I think there has been some kind of industrial spillage Derit, so I suggest you keep your distance!

-Did he say why he has no shoes? Enquired Derit pointing a long bony finger through the bleak rain as the driver scrambled without success up and promptly back down a mudslide.

-I don’t know I think he bumped his head! Selesu replied tiredly.

-Well this was a waste of my time! I’ll be off then my sisters gone to the seaside with my boss again, so I’m looking after her cat, Pussy can’t stand to be lonely she’ll be eating the curtains if I don’t get back! With that the tall gangly youth jumped on his moped; turning back the way he had come, the loud grumbling machine spluttering with disappointment into the belly of the night. Selesu could not be sure but he got the distinct impression that Derit’s cardigan sighed.

CHAPTER NINE

Lian watched with interest as the caretaker scribbled some nonsense into a carrot with a rusty nail. It occurred to Lian that the caretaker was uncommonly hairy and of a bulk that was not common in men of his age. In the background the environmental health officer was busy disentangling his foot from the hands of a man who had clothes wrapped round his neck.

-Please people I should, get off will you, I think many of you will go unscathed, just do not panic if you suddenly become say, oooh I don’t know irrationally terrified of anything…bikes, ghosts or even animals!

-What are the bikes up to? Demanded the man with a fluorescent coat wrapped around his neck as he reluctantly let go of the environmental health officers leg.

-It is not so much the bikes it could be anything! The officer pleaded softly.

-No bikes are good, quiet, shush, shush...I can I love you if you won't stop crying, little bitche! Grunted someone from the crowd, however no one could place exactly where from.

-What is it with you and bikes? (Enquired Mr Nommag, the local butcher angrily he was tired and wanted to get back to his shop. Being a decent generous Christian sort of man he began to console the Tesco’s lady who had begun weeping uncontrollably; a tall gangly boy began scribbling fervently into his blue note pad) bikes have feelings too you know!

-Do not take this the wrong way but are you drunk?

-It was just a bloody example of a phobia called cyclophic it is just a bloody example! The officer said politely, still waving his clipboard and slowly moving toward the lavatory.

-An example of being drunk? Grinned the butcher as the crowd sniggered appreciatively even the plump Tesco’s lady managed a smile and drew herself closer to the kindly, funny sensitive butcher.

-BLOOD! Wailed the man with the fluorescent jacket and a pool cue; then with said pool cue promptly bashed a man who was trying to mend a puncture on his bike over the head.

-Well you sir could be a cyclophic? Accused the officer as he spread his arms in a ‘see it is all going to be fine’ kind of way, he also spread a sudden flash of suspicion largely directed at the butcher.

-No I’m not! (Mr Nommag the butcher spat back looking vaguely embarrassed as he glanced at his friends in the mob, each one slowly moving cautiously away from him as though they had suddenly noticed he was in fact a large slug and the same filthy slug had been cutting their bacon for the last twenty years. The Tesco lady disentangled herself from the butcher with a look, that would not have gone a miss had it been directed at a 6ft slug slicing her bacon for the last ten years; a tall ginger man/boy made a note of that)...hold on a bloody minute!

-You cyclophobic’s disgust me! The Tesco lady spat!

-BLOOD! Screamed the lady with the home made spear a few locals fell in behind her; a man barged through the little group pushing a bike mouthing obscenities as he passed.

-Hold on a minute, I’m not a phobic, I love bikes I used to mend them before I became a butcher!

-Well of course you’re not but someone else may be! Remarked the officer, waving his hand before him, encompassing the entire crowd, this caused a stirring of panic in each section as his hand passed condemningly above them like an angle of death. The lady with the spear yelped, she would need more weapons.

-Don’t you tar us with that bike hugging crap we’re legit! Barked the man with the pool cue!

-Iz it zat patter pitter outside rain, von’t a person tell me, PLEEEZ? Screamed Hugo. Hugo had arrived by private means and kept the means of his arrival private. He began furiously blowing into his dingy.

-Zombies? Chanted half the mob in chorus, each eyeing the other suspiciously. The spear lady silently having assured her followers she would return manoeuvred out of the building taking the carpenters mallet and chisel with her.

CHAPTER TEN

-Shoooop, boy…what is the shooop?

-Leek and potato, Mrs Ablemiser! The waiter said politely, smiling a broad patient smile. A few moments passed whilst the old lady digested the information.

-Is your colleague asleep? Enquired Mr Ablemiser pointing an accusing soupspoon at a gangly waiter dozing by a kitchen hatch.

-Its medical sir, something-ilepsy!

-Leeeeek, speak up boy, leeeeek shoooop? Mrs Ablemiser grunted poking the young waiters hip with her fish fork.

-I do beg your pardon young man, medical? Don’t try that with me! Growed Mr Ablemiser adjusting his hat.

-He gets like that sir!

-I know all about it! Remarked Mr Ablemiser as he tapped his nose in a vaguely saucy conspiratorial manner!

-I don’t mind!

-I was a merchant seaman, sin in Gods eyes is a sin in my eyes…now let me tell you about medical my eyes are shot, both of them, can’t see a thing, my wife’s hearing is medical, he is a wastrel leprotic!

-Is he, oh I didn’t know, but Mrs Ablemiser, its leek AND potato SOUP!

-Okay young man, don’t shout, I’ll have the potato soup then with two WHOLEMEAL bread rolls!

-Leprotic you say, I knew a young officer In my day he got the odd leprosy, just out of Rangoon and the blighter began at it, him and that soft skinned Jenkins, damn it, I caught them at it on the fore deck….(Mr Ablemiser began mumbling uncomfortably to himself) nasty business!

-Would you please order George, I am practically all bone! Complained Mrs Ablemiser.

-But what can you do, they won’t stop there like dogs, always at it (Wailed Mr Ablemiser eyeing the sleeping waiter curiously from behind his bushy moustache, safe in the proximity of his bulbous vein riddled nose) give her the potato soup!

-It’s leek and potato Mr Ablemiser, leek and…!

-Well if you recommend the leek soup so highly, why didn’t you say so, homemade is it? Enquired Mr Ablemiser sternly.

-Have you ordered the leek soup George? Oh goody I shall have that then too!

-No Mrs Ablemiser its leek and potato! Replied the waiter as he deftly avoided another prod from her fish fork.

-Well I say that’s down right shoddy, shoddy business when two sailors get a dose of the leprosy!

-Shoddy is Lydia Johnson-Hartnell pretending she was not at the meeting last month, the cheek, avoiding me, the out right nerve of the women! To my face she denied being there, you saw her George, I informed her as much! I hear her great grandfather was Malton born, well there you go, answers it all doesn’t it? What are we having?

-Soup my dear you want soup, its lovely potato soup (replied Mr Ablemiser condescendingly shaking his head gently, putting his fore finger to his temple he rotated it knowingly and began whispering) not the same since our son Hamish got the leprosy, he lives in London now you see, he’s a dancer?

The waiter suddenly began tearing off his jacket and sprinted wildly towards the door.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

-Skuse me will this chemical harm my golf fish?

-No, it is a minor chemical associated with pysch…..’ Began the officer optimistically, waving his clipboard to demonstrate he knew exactly what he was talking about, but he was promptly shouted down by the crowd who were enthusiastically claiming he had no idea what he was talking about.

-Unravel the skin!

-Will we develop super powers? Will I be able to seduce a woman with a single bound, will my hands be faster than a speeding bra strap, can I fly, if I jump of a roof will I FLY? Enquired a spotty youth lounging by the window tapping the dirty pain of glass with a dirty fingernail. The youth gazed in astonishment as for a moment he saw a shoeless man dancing half nakedly pulling funny faces behind PC Selesu who to the untrained observer seemed to be hiding behind a bin near the bushes, he blinked and the vision was gone.

-Vill it make rain, pleaz tell me vill it rain? Desperately enquired the man with the deflated dingy.

-Did he say we have super powers? Whispered two young men simultaneously giddy with excitement.

-I want to be a dinosaur!

-Be realistic moron choose something that actually existed like a unicorn!

-It makes brains, that spillage is making brains, whose? Gasped Miss Nigriv.

-Brains? I can’t hear him, did he say we’ll have unicorn brains or rainy brains? Enquired an old cotton lady nervously fumbling in her pocket for a tube of tablets

-How is a rainy brain a super power? Complained the spotty youth as he occasionally glanced out of the window looking for the naked man.

-Well I tell you this for nothing! I am going to write to Mr Rail, he’s a dear friend of mine, I am not standing for all this codswallop (Her tone took on that of a righteous pastor) now maybe in Malston they’ll appreciate a brain or two, MAYBE. Maybe in Malston, God forgive them, in Malston they’ll enjoy a brain rainy or not, but not here in Walston, dear Jesus save us, we are a different class we don’t need brains!

-VIL IT VAIN, I can’t take ziz! Gasped the deflated dingy holding man sweat pouring onto his immaculate chef whites.

-You may, may develop and I stress may develop hitherto undiagnosed phobias, the affects will be temporary I assure you! I must inform you that there will be a handsome compensation scheme!

-How can you compensate for a rainy brain?

-Truly it is really nothing to panic about! (Pleaded the officer wavering his clipboard and eyeing the hall for the nearest exit, he had lost his first crowd! Lian moved closer to the officer, despite the officer’s best efforts to push him away; Lian loyally clung monkey like to his employer. Lian used his steely stare to soften the crowd then put his forefinger to his ear and whispered instructions to his rapid reaction team on the roof! The officer continued) a few of you may have no phobias at all! Declared the officer happily.

-So I won’t get a rainy zombie brain, figures, I always miss out on the good things in life no one likes me! Complained a fat bold beardy man looking with odd surprise at a bicycle a stranger passed to him.

-If everybody else is getting a unicorn brain I want a brain too! Shouted Jakes small brother several others nodded in agreement as they clung jealously to their bikes.

-Give us brains! Rang out from all corners of the hall.

-Screw the brain follow the bike!

-Unravel the weepy skin of the tear!

-Fear the zombie not the bike imposter, it is a false idol!

-False this, miss scabby skin! Threatened a man in tight pink speedo's and a comfortable and safe riding helmet as he waved a tire pump menacingly in through the air.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nellus Von Derit had no remarkable features at all! If the colour vague grey had a personification, it would carry a great deal more charisma than Nellus Von Derit. At twenty-nine years old he could have passed for twelve. Nellus Von Derit was a descendant of Kith Von Derit a Dutch bomber pilot who had inexplicably gotten lost on a bombing raid to Hamburg and instead bombed then crashed into the quiet countryside of Drusbashire. Nellus worked for the East Walston Gazette. His sister Gals Von Derit had an arrangement with the owner, Mr Walston. Nellus was often heard to remark…

-I keep notes, nothing escapes my eye, this alone puts me at the forefront of reporting throughout Drusbashire, well Walston specifically not Halston and most certainly not Malston those Malston lot are a bit queer in the head. Those Malston lot wouldn’t know a metaphor if one sneaked up behind them like a sneaking thing; probably a cat because they are quite crafty, my dear old gran used to love cats, now she’s absolutely petrified of them, she gave her pussy to my sister, strange old people. Although given the location of Malston, I would not discount a ferocious fox or a burgling badger; its just off the moor you see next to the river Als, I went there one summer with the school, well I say ‘school’ just Mr Trevrep and me…! At which point a deep solemnity would pass over his shy delicate eyes, like too little cream swirling into banishment, lost in too large a mug of coffee.

There were technically two reporters at the Walston Gazette; one being Nellus the other being the local handy man Harry. Harry had been employed by the Walston family for generations no one noticed that he never seemed to age or that he was oddly hairy. Although Mr Stottle had not attended work for almost eight months, he been busy failing to fix a gas leak at the local fire station, successfully failed to repair the aerial antennae of half a dozen local residents and made a marvellous job of incorrectly positioning a ‘BEWARE SUDDEN BEND’ sign out by the reservoir. However occasional envelopes would arrive and Mr Walston the editor, a remarkable man; out of sheer loyalty and desperation would always publish them. The last article of note and some merit read simply…

-ALL YEE OF TRUTH UNRAVEL THE SKIN! H.S

In many respects Mr Walston was a remarkable man a real leader. His grandfather had sold off most of the Walston estate in a vain bid to finance the tracking and capturing of the ‘Sasquatch’ the rumour was he had actually achieved this, but on the long journey back to England had fallen in love with the beast and the two had eloped. The right reverend Walston Snr was a pious man; some say the finest representative of the church in all of Drusbashire, much better than that smutty Father Shamus Reggub over in Malston; and thus being well respected and highly thought of the right reverend Walston Snr had a fondness for whores and gambling.

Upon taking his inheritance Mr Walston Jnr was left with a large heatless, lightless house, an imbecile of an absentee caretaker, a farm with no animals and the Gazette. Despite being a paranoid fantasist with a tendency towards violence and unbeknown to him a growing sense of lachanophobia, the time he spent in his youth failing to become a priest is often sited as one of his more notable achievements.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The officer took a deep breath; the deep breathe seemed to sense that something was up and requested in no uncertain terms that it be set free – it went fee.

With his government issued clipboard, but no representative of either the local constabulary or government Bruno was determined to plough on. For he had never lost a crowd “You don’t get to be a representative of the environmental health public relations team for nothing’ he whispered to himself encouragingly.

-You won’t get me up there I’m not a body guard, I’m not an actor!

-Its not acting its pretending!

-What me, a mere carpenter of ill breeding and scant education to defend you against this lot?

-You sound smart enough to me!

-I have an I.Q of 567!

-REALLY?

-Yeah professor Hawkins was my Dad’s crazy golf partner!

-Sure, I need you to be a private security specialist!

-What, like the SAS! Whispered Lian with deep reverence.

-Yes precisely, in and out like the SAS!

-I wanted to join the SAS, but they declined my services!

-Did they? Groaned the officer impatiently.

-They said I am a fantasist!

-I’m sure they did, will you do it or not? I’ve come along way! Pleaded the officer.

-No, this bench needs fixing, I think Harry’s been at it again!

-Please they may kill me, I may die here!

-I have my pride I am a prideful man!

A crisp ten pounds later Lian had found some sunglasses and developed a steely stare. The baying mob began hurling all manner of verbal and gesticulated abuse at the men on the stage.

-Lian is that a fat man holding a deflated yellow dingy and an umbrella?

-Affirmative Sir!

-I thought so! Pondered the officer shaking his head.

-Keep on mission sir! Focus we’ll get you out! Sternly remarked Lian the one time carpenter. The officer sighed with bemused resignation. Lian whispered something into a pretend earpiece. Surveying the crowd the officer knew it was going to be a tough gig, but that was his job, public relations he had never lost a crowd yet.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Walston community forum huddled around a rough collection of tables that had been assembled in the middle of the village hall. No two tables seemed quite at the same level, which led to pens rolling hither and thither and tea being spilt as soon as someone moved suddenly. Miss Nigriv squirmed in her hot seat, a flush rushed through her as Mr Walston angrily entered the hall with what appeared to be a shovel. She despised him with a love only a true hater could understand. ‘but I’m not a fool, I know he wants only one thing, I’m a grown intelligent women, I’m nobodies fool’ she growled to herself under her breath.

-Susie won’t you pass me a cup of coffee? Asked Mr Walston hotly a faint aroma of gin and unwashed genitalia wafted through the room. Miss Nigriv shuddered yearningly and dutifully obliged, bemoaning her compliance instantly ‘I’m a fool, such a fool’!

Inexplicably many of the chairs and more the modern tables had been sabotaged. The caretaker trundled in and out of various store cupboards picking up this and replacing that. His capernoited lollop amused none but bemused all. A pigeon took its seat on the window-sill counted all inside then left a white inky package before fluttering away; unbeknownst to it that a mere five minutes later it would see eye to eye with Mr Deeps bus and lose.

-Here, here (Commanded Mrs Ablemiser) firstly let us welcome the right honourable Mr Rail MP for Drusbashire (she began the vigorous clapping, with such force he neat hair bobbed hysterically upon her head like a frenzied cat too fearful to remain to brave to jump) Mr Rail everyone! She repeated still clapping. After five awkward minutes the right honourable Mr Rail began to speak in the hope Mrs Ablemiser would cease clapping.

-Thank you all, I am delig-…(MP Rail paused and looked curiously at the Mrs Ablemiser who continued clapping jollily, imploring others to do so with the forceful postulating of her head) I would like to reassure you all tha….!

-Mrs Ablemiser tha-n-k you!

-Splendid, I am calling into session the 123rd forum meeting. We shall be covering the upcoming vegetable gala and last weeks incident by the reservoir that which the sensationalist press have called ‘Shoeless man, portent of doom or the future of rambling’ let us begin and let us have no flabber blustery like last month, nonsense is the devils bed fellow! Remarked the chairwomen piously as she turned to Mr Rail and with a tilt of her head bade him begin.

-I would like to reassure you all that those che-…

-Mr Rail we have a system at the annual Walston Community Forum, guests must introduce themselves, dear me Mr Rail! Condescended Mrs Ablemiser out stretching her small stub hand in a royal gesture of ‘please do’.

-But everyone knows who I am Mrs Ablemiser! Protested Mr Rail glancing at the other forum members for support, each one turned away in turn. Behind Mr Rail suddenly appeared a grubby old man whispering,

-Unravel the skin!

-Pardon? Interrupted Mrs Ablemiser.

-Everyone knows who I am! Mr Rail raised his voice whilst shooing the old man away with his hands.

-Ham?...(The chairwomen thought momentarily)…I believe its turkey salad, bare with me (suddenly Mrs Ablemiser turned to the caretaker who was busy dismantling a perfectly acceptable bench) Harry! Harry what are the sandwiches this ‘haftorrr nune?

-Unravel the skin of the onion ballad!

-Delightful (clapped Mrs Ablemiser) turkey salad, satisfied Mr Rail, now lets get down to business, where were we?

-I was telling everyone who I am?

-No, its turkey salad, if you wanted ham you should have made a polite call earlier in the week! Replied the chairwomen shaking her head in bemusement.

-I was telling them WHO I AM Mrs Ablemiser!

-Oh dear, we all know who you are Mr Rail, really you MP’s are quite something! (she gave the right honourable gentlemen a saucy respectful wink) but if you insist I shall assist! To all present the right honourable MP for Drusbashire, Mr Rail! Broadcast Mrs Ablemiser with such enthusiasm everyone followed her lead and began clapping uproariously once more. The right honourable Mr Rail MP for Drusbashire knew just the man to deal with Walston.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The environmental health officer ducked and dived as various vegetables rocketed passed his head he was adamant a few had Celtic runes on them, this he decided was the least terrifying aspect of his life. His gaze was drawn back to the hairy old man who was now sat in the lotus position eating a raw white onion; however his gaze found the man difficult, too difficult for a mere gaze to comprehend and thus the gaze turned itself into a flight of fancy and flew out the window. Bruno could not help but wonder if the hairy old man and not the tall ginger man boy was really responsible for how things were turning out!

-People, please you must remain calm! Pleaded the environmental health officer as he waved his hand across the crowd, his hand remained but his wave went out and hit a sleeping old man in the face. A great deal of his natural fervour had favoured the window in the toilet and so had left the officer a great deal fervour-less.

-What a shoddy bugger! Groaned Mr Ablemiser.

-We’ve been experimented on! Screamed the wild spear carrying women now returned from yet another raid; with an assortment of garden equipment for her band of followers; she maniacally willed her wanton brood to protect their necks and shins and avoid the temptations of the bike.

-Shoddy business I tell you, downright shoddy, a firm hand is what they need, a firm hand is required when two fine athletic seamen meet each other coming the wrong way! Murmured the old man half awake half angrily dozing,!

-Please settle down! (Groaned the officer as he waved a hand in protest, the wave apologised as it politely made its way out of the hall leaving Bruno wave-less.) You have brains already! (Explained the environmental officer) bodies and brains will be fine, what is wrong with this place?

-I think there was a spillage or something out near the reservoir and it’s turning everyone into zombies, it’s upset a few folks! (Whispered security specialist Lian helpfully before something caught his eye) ooh that’s a nice bike!

-Thank you! Came the dentiloquent reply.

-No problem that’s what you pay me for, boss! Winked Lian confidentially as a carrot inscribed with four previously lost alchemistic formulae for turning bad ideas into good ones smashed into the rear wall and fell behind the stage.

-You already have brains!

-That’s what you say (boomed Jakes small brother) funny how a free brain becomes scarce when everyone’s apparently got one?

-You have brains? (Pleaded the officer as strange migrations began to weave through the crowd. A mob of bike lovers began forming a clear separate block from the others.) your bodies will be fine!

-Yeah it’s like those offers, those special officers at the local shop, never any bloody stock in, the special thing is there is never anything in! Grumbled a short bald bearded man whilst attaching a blue sweater to his left leg!

-Bodies, oh dear its the zombies that is what is wrong with this town alright! Screamed the lady with the homemade spear as her disciples formed a protective wall.

-Noooo! Gasped the astonished lady, her friends nodded in agreement.

-Please you are not listening, stop talking, listen for a minute, there are deffinaely no zombies, or brains in this village! Pleaded Bruno.

-If I wanted to become a zombie I would never have bothered taking that supervisors course at Tescos!

-What did he say?

-I mean, I spent the last four months learning about customer care, customer assurance, product placement, Tesco value beans bloody forty minutes on the wonders of the humble value bean and now I shall become one of the restless un-dead forever roaming the earth!

-Unravel the white skin.

-Moaning would you like to take advantage of our mortgage rates…excuse me I’m a soddin’ zombie grrr grrr grrr give us a nibble! Moaning for raw human flesh, really? Distressed the wild eyed women.

-Exactly, you try to make it on in life and there is always something, always bloody something! Agreed a short bald bearded man a dozen faces nodded in agreement.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The squirrel watched the vacant glare of the man in the high window. A dark shudder enveloped his pure loving heart, his tiny fur clumps oscillated with a dread it’s miniscule mind could hardly endure. A malevolent unseen echo slithered cold piercing finger tipped tongued gruel along the thick solid branches of the oaks, where black jays skipped uneasily trying to avoid the invisible unnatural ooze. Swiftly the squirrel leapt down the tree and towards the nearest rucksack, hurriedly snatching a pen it began to write as best as its miniature mind could. A girl and a friend stopped to look…

-Oh look Johann it thinks it’s studying! She giggled

-Let us call him Benjy and give him nuts.

-Yes we shall mother him! Replied Rebecca as she suddenly shuddered) uh horrible!

-What’s wrong Rebecca?

-I go that feeling again, you know the one that feels like someone is watching you!

-I bet it’s just the wind!

-Yeah I bet it is! Johann gave wise council as she laughed at the squirrel scribbling; to the girls it looked like drunken train tracks down a piece of paper, in old squirrel it read

-DANGER ABOVE DON’T GO TO CAMP NEXT WEEK-

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PC Selesu peered through a dusty window, as a tall lady with a spear passed behind him. To his horror he saw the crowd had increased in size; he noted how Hugo had his dingy again and Mr and Mrs Ablemiser were attempting to rush the stage. PC Selesu tried to force his limbs to enter the building, he saw the panic stricken expression on the face of the man from the health board yet he could not enter, too many people. He noted curiously how young Lian seemed to be speaking to his hand. Suddenly PC Selesu felt a heavy hand on his shoulder he shrieked in horror.

-Jesus it’s you, you scared the bloody bones out of me!

-Hello, they’ve got the vague!

-I’ve got the bloody shakes thanks to you (In the distance PC saw a naked young man charge screaming at a women with a make shift spear, he shook his head and the figures were gone) what is going on in this town?

-The vague!

-You susnhine, you better come with me!

-I’m not going anywhere! Screeched the truck driver as he nimbly dodged the ponderous PC Selesu.

-The vague got them!

-Look at least (Pleaded Silesu ever the public servant) let me get you some shoes!

-What’s wrong with you people, I am a nelipot! He barked as he dashed towards the wildness narrowly avoiding a naked young boy, limping heavily as he clutched what appeared to be a stab wound to his thigh. PC Selesu knew he had to intervene, he peeped in through the window as Hugo began feverishly blowing into his dingy. Selesu paled and followed the naked boy and the shoe-less truck driver into the wildness.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The mob had now broken up into three distinct groups, there were the zombie believers who had erected a substantial barricade between them and the ‘Free Brains For All Society of Eternal Optimists’, here a minor skirmish had broken out; the zombie believers looked to be losing ground until their esteemed leader came crashing through the glass window with tins of beans and a whole range of improvised death devices. Her mere presence, a visage of magnificence rallied the zombie believer’s ranks; eventually territories were decided and the ‘F.B.F.A.S.E.O’ appeared to quell their warring ways. Selesu looked in quietly.

Finally there were the ‘Bikes Have Feelings Too Entente’ this group had somehow managed to scrambled together half a dozen bicycles into the hall un noticed by their rivals. Just as the environmental health officer began his closing argument the ‘F.B.F.A.S.E.O’ launched a pre-emptive strike on the zombie believers, under the premise that the zombie group were so insidiously insane that they should be relieved of their brains forth with; compensation for their followers who had missed out on the free brains.

-I would have your brain now please Mr Jones I mean we are friends after all! Confirmed Mr Smith. Mr Jones shrieked and tossed a tin of ravioli at Mr Smith’s head.

-Unravel the white skin! Groaned an unseen messenger.

-Phobias, Phobias not brains! Yelled the environmental health officer, this caused one third of the mob to bitterly remonstrate against the flagrant discrimination their kind were enduring in theses troubled times, a hastily commissioned petition of eighteen signatures was successfully lobbed at Lians head.

-Man down, man down! Lian wailed pathetically, his steely glare deciding living was the better part of valour and went and lived somewhere else.

-Are we animals? Pleaded the environmental health officer in earnest tearing at his clipboard he kicked out angrily at a man with a towel fastened neatly about his head. The man had tried to grab his foot.

-They are animals, smelly rotten little dirty teasers!

-Shoddy, shoody!

-The White Onion will prevail!

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The chef laboured enthusiastically over a large pan of soup, his bald head shimmering like a boiled egg splashed with the first dewy drops of inspiration. His hands like two half frozen chicken legs, dextrously gripping the neck of a large wooden spoon. His bulbous torso resembling a juicy boar, toasted in some ancient time of axe and sailing ship.

-Shacob zit is amost dooon, amost, amost! Whispered the chef mystically as a witch would before her coven, the boiling broth slurping and sloshing with incomprehensible mysticism. The two waiters waited patiently as the chef sprinkled a little of everything into the broil of history, a proud man he to stir and sniff the aroma’s of his own genius,

-Shacob, luke ootside, what Iz ze wedda lark? Enquired the chef anxiously not once looking up from his soup at the skylight above him.

-Its fine chef, its sunny! Bemoaned Shacob Jones wearily, the two waiters continued their discourse.

The kitchen was a narrow affair, with a small service hatch where two waiters waited patiently. The two waiters, Shacob Jones and Neil Trevrep stood idly whilst the chef peered forlornly at the greying sky above, through the skylight above his head he could sense that large nebulous omens were plotting against him.

-I saw your dad out by the reservoir the other day with loads of bin bags, as he taken up fishing again? Enquired Shacob as he picked dirt from beneath his finger nails.

-I don’t know, since mum just vanished on us (a momentary hollow sadness filled his sleepy inconsolable eyes) he’s been distant!

-It must be hard with his work and every thing?

-No not really, he seems to really enjoy going to the school, it’s all he talks about, he really likes those kids, he’s a first rate teacher! (Remarked Neil proudly) I blame this place, apart from the truck crash, nothing happens, sends people crazy!

-I can’t do this anymore Neil, I need to get out, need to be free!

-You’ll be fine! Yawned Neil.

-No you don’t get it, one more crazy, I’ll leave Drusbashire for good!

-You’ll be fine! Yawned Neil

-Same old faces, same old crap, I swear I’ll run screaming naked out of this restaurant naked and I’ll attack everyone I see!

-You’ll be fine Yawned Neil.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Nellus took in the beaming sun and delightful sights it was a powerful day, a day of rich coffee scented omens, a portent of good fortune had arrived on his lap, today he would report, on the gala, vegetables were taken very seriously in Walton. Nellus saw Lian the carpenter and the headmaster of the local school Mr Trevrep chatting by the bus stop.

-Hullo Nellus off to the gala? Asked Lian as he strode up and down the path in a sleek black suite and tie. Mr Trevrep checked his watch with a bored expression on his face, the sky clouded over and it began to rain.

-Are you going to a funeral? Asked Nellus as he huddled beside the two men inside the bus shelter.

-No I am changing careers. Would you like to witness my steely stare? Askend Lian as he contorted his face into something that Nellus could only assume was a steely stare.

-Oh that is good!

-Thank you! Beamed Lian.

-Hullo Mr Trevrep, where’s your car?

-Why do you ask, as Selesu been asking about me? Barked the headmaster with a cautious glare out into the village road.

-No it is merely strange to see you at the bus stop! Beamed Nellus pleasingly.

-Strange, strange is when they are flirty little kittens one minute then all “no sir, please sir it hurts" the next! That’s strange!

-Yes Lian I am going to the gala (Nellus ignoring Mr Trevrep as best he could waved the blue note pad in the air then; promptly put it back in his pocket) should be some fantastic vegetables in Walton today! Should be a belting story, since the riot not much as happened in town. We take our vegetables seriously, not like those Malston lot, wouldn’t eat their vegetables!

-Yeah I remember reading your article! Do you think Mr Nommag is really going to gut you like a pig?

-Shouldn’t think so, or else why would he have wrote into the paper, that’s not smart murdering!

-I brought a spud for the gala don’t think I’ll win though.

-Why? Asked Nellus in a supportive manner.

-I’ve eaten half of it.

-A girl in my class once brought me in some cucumbers, I ate the fuckin’ whole of that saucy cow, they know, they know what they are doing to me! (Mumbled Mr Trevrep angrily.) the only bun that cucumber saw was her quivering wet one as I smash it…

Both Lian and Nellus glanced at the teacher and then away at the rain. Just then both men saw Hugo the chef dashing wildly along the village green with an oar in one hand and a large semi inflated dingy in the other. A faint wild cry of anguish could be heard as the big man splashed in terror. Nellus made a note of that, it seemed important.

-Funny place Walton! Remarked Lian as he watched Hugo vanish into the fishing tackle store.

-Walton is special, not like Malton. Spat Nellus with a soft disconcerting shiver as he put his note pad away.

-True! Confirmed Lian sleepily as the heavy rain splatter lullabied his tired limbs into comforts own cot.

-If those Malston lot gave me a basket of vegetables, a free basket of their vegetables. Even if it were in the deepest darkest privation of winter; I would shake my fist with proud Walston rage and say no.

-Good man Nellus!

-Thank you Lian! No thank you kindly Malston I would say! You bunch of snivelling vegetable touts, you pimps, sling your hook! Well naturally I would politely thank them with a courteous note of course, saying how touched I was for the offer but I am well stocked! No need in damaging cross-town relationships, as a reporter I must be impartial! Nellus became a rain sage, Lian looked at his friend with a new born reverence, Lian also watched curiously as a mob with homemade spears chased a man with no shoes into the Walston forest.

-Yep Nellus strange place Walsont, but I like it!

-Yeah they tell you that, that’s what they tell you, but deep down they want it, they need a good seein’ to every now and then, FILTH (Mr Trevrep spat) oh come off it, don’t be coy you know what they are doing! Growled Mr Trevrep as he poked a divine finger at a fading rain bejewelled spiders web.

-More than they deserve (Lian said slowly, keeping his eyes on the teacher) those Malston lot! Lian said soflty.

-Amen to that! Chortled Mr Trevrep.

-I may as well practice my ducking for cover.

-I really hope, I hope (began Nellus as he watched Lian practice his ducking for cover) they choke on their high-speed link to the capital, that’s some good ducking and diving!

-Thank you Nellus! Gasped Lian midly out of breath.

-I hope a heap load of drug addled rapists swarm into town on the next train! Added the teacher giggling delicious revelries to himself as the rain fell in ever increasing wrath about them. Suddenly Nellus had gone off the bus idea entirely.

-Are you coming to my birthday party? Asked Nellus artfully trying to change the subject.

-I might Nellus, but my new line of work is very demanding, can’t say what exactly, hush hush as you well know! (Remarked Lian from behind a nearby tree) can you see me? Do I blend non suspiciously into the background?

- If I could not see you and if I did not know you were there, you would look wonderfully suspicious!

-Practice makes perfect!

-Yeah and every virgin they can lay their grubby drug abusing….

-A lot of rain! Interuppted Lian rolling is eyes in the teachers general direction; however his eyes knew exactly where Lian wanted to roll them and they point blank refused. The upshot being Lian had the expression of a man who had been unexpectedly electrocuted.

-Penis is a gun get it in the face and in the other bit and the other bit, just all day and night, they get it, even when they don’t want it they’ll be like “No sir, please I don’t want it, and I’ll be like, HAVE IT WHORE, then out of love (Mr Trevrep began angrily weeping) I’ll strangle her and bury her out by the lake! He screamed apologetically.

-Bus be here soon! Added Nellus as he tried to roll his eyes in the teacher’s direction, however upon seeing that Lian’s eyes had not been forced to they saw no reaon why they should.

-Its only because I LOVE THEM! Explained Mr Trevrep exhaustedly panting with rage.

At this point Nellus saw PC Selesu inspecting the bus stop from across the village green, he was partially concealed behind a bush; his bulbous binoculars branching out left to right in a steady arch, the constable shook his head sadly and dashed back into the wildness. Nellus made a note of this, it had importance written all over it! Something was going on in Walston and he would be the one to find out!

-At last the bus Nellus! Pointed Lian, as a bus appeared round the bend, two brazen schoolgirls gave them the V sign.

-Oh goody! Came a suddenly cheerful Mr Trevrep.

Taking their seats Nellus and Lian were glad Mr Trevrep had gone up stairs, hopefully to quieten down the gaggle of school children making a loud racket up there. The bus strolled along, both Nellus and Lian could not help but notice that the usually swift and semi-dangerous driving of Mr Deeps had been reduced to a tired snails pace. Mr Deeps gripped onto the steering wheel with white knuckles and a green face, petrified he decided to pull over entirely. Leaving the engine churning, Mr Deeps unbuckled his seat belt and dashed off into the woods. A few moments of astonished silence followed, the upper deck had gone quiet also, the world stood still as the hot engine rumbled beneath. Then Mr Deeps came careering back out of the forest and back into the bus; the bus slowly apologised its way along the road, closely followed by a semi naked, bloodied shoe less man, calling out to them.

-Vague is what vague does!

Behind him Nellus saw a group of well dressed, well armed villagers screaming bloody death, behind those appeared PC Selesu froze with indecision. He awkwardly tried to close the gap on the armed frenzied mob but for reasons Nellus could not speculate, PC Selusu would change his mind, after a few minutes just when the ravenous mob seemed to be on top of the shoeless man, Selesu shrieked in horror and vanished as a cavalry of cyclists crashed headlong into the armed mob with cries of…

-BIKES HAVE FEELINGS TOO!

Nellus watched as the battle raged behind them; Lian tugged at Nellus’s shirt and pointed to the bulging river Als. There they saw a fat chef wildly paddling a yellow dingy up stream with a fishing rod dangling like some thin dead tail.

-Strange place Walston! (Offered Lian philosophically as a morbid swirl of cigarette smoke and a divinity void chorus of distressed weeping came from the upper deck.) I saw a pigeon commit suicide the other day!

-Really I better write that down!

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Nellus Von Derit entered with all the swagger of a slight breeze, wearing with aplomb a look upon his face that immediately marked him out for a man who in every sense of the word lacked aplomb and swagger. Nellus had chosen for the occasion his favourite cardigan, which he believed made him look edgy and mysterious. However most people upon seeing it for the first time remarked just how precisely it lacked any mystery and was devoid of any meaningful edginess. Despite this many also felt a sad compassion for it and at least one old lady a week threatened to adopt it.

-You must be frothing with anticipation, well froth away it makes for a sublime climax! Murmured Mr Trevrep as he passed behind Nellus. Nellus turned a 360 he saw no one but Mr Nommag holding one end of a large meaty sausage whilst Miss Eltneg the primary school teacher frantically tugged the other fat end complaining all the while; Nellus shook his head and made a note.

Mr Walston was indeed a remarkable man, endowed with such grace and breeding he strolled around the hall clutching his shovel to his chest with a certain regal panache. The caretaker began pulling up nails from the floorboards beneath the broken window. Storing the nails in his mouth, he would continue along the next plank. A gust of chill damp wind fluttered through the broken window like a carpet of reaping butterflies; their wings heavy with a billion tiny diamond white skulls, each heavy with the honey of endless sunlight.

-I thought he fixed that! (Barked Mr Walston as he pointed at the window with the end of his shove) he said he fixed it!

-He did! Replied Miss Nigriv the Walston Community Forum secretary. Both stared a long while at the shattered lethal looking shards of glass erupting from the window sill – after a further pause they agreed he must have done a first rate job, Mr Walston and his shove bid Miss Nigriv a good day. She found Mr Walston obnoxious and sexually deprived however the shovel came across as very worldly, god faring and erudite.

The hall had that fragile look about it, to Nellus it seemed as if someone had slowly been dismantling its innards before there very eyes; the caretaker whistled passed with a timbre support painfully over his shoulder.

-Unravel the skin with teary eyes!

Nellus was coming to the opinion that something odd was afoot in Walston, but he dismissed it immediately, he could quite understand if odd occurrences were coming out of Malston, everybody knew those lot were lunatics.

Large men, seemingly too weird and enthusiastic to be men at all were pinned to their vegetables, tall earthy men with strange knowledge, mystics of the muddy farm yard chicken disco. Masters of the early morning sun haze cattle shit cacophony. Those tweed tamers of geese with little or no remorse, Those big booted spontaneously garrulous grippers of goose bums and necks with hands that built the foundations to earth herself.

Barely men these strange Alps-born snow creatures too bizarre, too devout to exist amongst standard men dark followers of a religion long since lost to clay fable and stable hey. Wall lords bare before the bleaching sun, yet always, always hostages to their gargantuan moustaches. Suddenly Farmer Eli Enasni approached Mr Walston clumsily, the farmer’s bullish frame wielding a substantial vegetable in his bosom.

-A’right masta Walston, not that a want to fluonce the vote, but wont you sniff me aubergines!

-Come near me with that big fucker and I will smash your head with this shovel as if your head was a tiny egg and my shovel was a fucking comet! Barked Mr Walston sweating uncontrollably as he bumped into Mr Clayton Drusba who whispered something Mr Walston missed entirely, seeing the shovel quivering in Mr Walston’s hands Drusba went and hid under the stage with the cobwebs and forgotten chewing gum.

Mr Walston had many difficulties in his life, the gala was one of them, Nellus was another, Drusba was another, miss Von Derit being another amongst many others; he was quite sure there were many more troubles that he had not even discovered, just waiting to trouble him. With that sobering thought Mr Walston took his shovel to a quiet corner and introduced himself to the bottom of a whisky flask.

The ‘Wall Lords’ kept their vegetables close, they kept a diligent air about them, vegetables hidden under various cloths, sacks, old sweaters, tea towels stapled together with all manner of mystic runes haphazardly painted on them, this was the way of the gala. Nellus found Mr Clayton Drusba Jnr fourteenth earl of Drusbashire, occupant of ‘Just round the corner, big place you can’t miss it’ hiding under the stage.

-Hullo, you look well Mr Drusba! (Nellus remarked) are you looking forward to giving your speech, I’ll make some notes if you like!

-I don’t think I am!

-Why?

-It’s not the people (whispered Drusba) I know I will forget my lines!

-But you love giving speeches, your the captain of the amateur dramatics society, you really get into your speeches, they are terrific!

-Do I? (Whispered Clayton nervously, glancing forebodingly at the large menacing stage above him) I think I just saw PC Selesu peep through the window, did you? Drusba remarked thoughtfully.

Nellus paid the broken window a great deal of attention and saw nothing; nothing smiled warmly and waved back, mouthing a silent promise to meet up later in the afternoon.

-No, I saw nothing!

-How is he? Enquired Drusba.

-He said he’ll meet up with me later in the after noon!

-He will? Asked Drusba almost inaudibly,

-Yes!

-Tell him he still owes me a tenner!

Nellus decided to leave Mr Drusba be, a marvellously creative mind like his probably needed time alone, Nellus decided it was probably some kind of pre stage warm up, actors were a strange bunch to be sure, Nellus decided nothing much of any merit was going to happen at the gala and he half considered jumping on is moped for a mid afternoon jaunt around the reservoir. He found Mr Walston hidden behind some curtains.

-Having a nice time Mr Walston? Asked Nellus blankly.

-Blessed moron you know what afflicts you!

-Having a nice time Mr Walston? Repeated Nellus recreating tone for tone his previous question, his eyes glazed with blank simple joys.

-Jesus I’m sweating like a pig, do I look like I’m enjoying myself Nellus? Damn these things, why can’t Drusba just sort himself out, Jesus I don’t feel well, why are you looking at me like that? God be damned if I’m staying here one minute longer, my fingers are bleeding!

Leaving Mr Walston to his shovel and whisky Nellus inspected the vegetables in competition, Farmer Dibar spat across his path Nellus making several notes passed on, full coverage. He witnessed Lian the secret bodyguard receiving a ribbon.

-I thought you had eaten your spud?

-I had but I went to tell Mr Drusba his speech was next and I found this familiar carrot with all these crazy symbols on it, so I entered it and won a ribbon!

-What’s the ribbon for?

-First place in the carrot category! (Beamed Lian) I have never won anything before, my mum will be so proud. I’m giving up private security and I will not go back into carpentry there’s always loads of bloody work to be done around here! I may set up a vegetable award ribbon winning consultancy firm; you know advise vegetable growers on how to be successful like me!

-I’ll make a note of that (Nellus made a note of that) you came first out of how many competitors?

-One!

-I see! Nellus made a note of that, he smiled warmly and continued on his mission for full coverage. A clique of women had gathered beside the free coffee stand Nellus could smell the bittersweet aroma of vital information.

-Apparently our dear butcher can’t leave the girls alone!

-Makes you think, my dear Clair as not been the same since she started school and do you know who provides the meat for the school? Insinuated the worried mother.

-Nooooo! Gasped her interested friend

-Exactly, makes you think!

-Well my Shacob has taken (mother crossed her shamed heart motherly) well he has taken to nakedly biting people in the street. I could cry, but guess who delivers meat to that restaurant he works in? Remarked the fretful mother of Shacob.

-Nooooo! Gasped the friend.

-Yes, why would he do that?

-Do you know the chef is one of those Antlophobia types I read it in a book?

-Noooo! Gasped the friend.

-Yes I knew he was foreign but really, they’ll stoop to anything!

-Odd that the butcher in question also delivers meat to the chef?

-Although that nice young man from the ‘unicorn bike company’ did say we may experience some odd behaviour thanks to that industrial spillage
and all those phobias!

-Really Gladys, I expected more from you, maybe you should have signed up for one of those free brains!

-Yeah Phobias don’t even exist, there like werewolves and crocodiles, pure myth.

-But sex deprived butchers do exist, right here in Walston!

-Nooooo!

-I mean you’d expect it in Malston (All three ladies nodded in agreement) but not in Walston! Remarked the worried mother of Clair. Nellus frowned.

-I better make a note of that! Remarked Nells Von Derit holding his blue note book.

THE END