New Stories

A collection of stories that are, surprisingly enough, pretty new. And often very strange. And other things besides, good buddies, things that I don't intend to go into right now. Enjoy!



Five-Oh-Six-Three (Part Two)

“How do I know that this isn't your lair? How do I know you're not an unspeakable carnivorous demon? You certainly look the part."

A Few Sandwiches Short Of A Picnic (Part One)

It was late afternoon and Greasy Joe's was almost empty, so the clutch of lorry drivers sitting at the table under the window that they regarded as their sovereign territory were free to misbehave.

A Few Sandwiches Short Of A Picnic (Part Two)

“No dribbling Joe, please. Can I order four coffees? No sugar, just a spot of milk and a sweetener in two of them – us girls have to watch our waistlines.”

Absurdia, or The Grand Cockerel (Dave's bloody play)

Absurdia is a classy play for well-bred audiences. Not suitable for weirdos or thrill seekers.

Christmas Special (part five)

"The management are test running a revolutionary new assessment process, but it's not a covert psychological test or anyfink like that....."

Christmas Special (part four)

When it snows ain't it thrillin', though your balls get a chillin', we'll frolic and play the Eskimo way walking in a winter wonderland.

Christmas Special (part nine)

"No, you-fucking-well-can't-have-a-lock-of-my-chest-hair, you-little-perv.....”

Christmas Special (part one)

“'Ome?” Peter said. “Fucking 'ome? It's Christmas Eve!"

Christmas Special (part six)

"they're gonna whittle my knackers to petit pois with a cheese grater, suck my eyes out and fry me lightly in a garlic and ginger sauce....."

Christmas Special (part three)

Later on we'll conspire as we cringe by the fire, to face so afraid our plans now unmade, walking in a winter wonderland.

Christmas Special (part two)

"Me boots are 'eavy, me knickers are tight, me bollocks are swinging from left to right, left, left, left right left.....”

Dead Man Walking (Part One)

"Please God, if you give a toss, turn back time and make amends for this unforgivable sin."

Dead Man Walking (Part Two)

Grow grow the lightening tree!

Mr. Cold (Part One)

“'Ello 'ello 'ello, what's all this, then?” a voice said from the cover of the trees to his right, the unexpected intrusion stopping him in his tracks.

Mr. Cold (Part Two)

“My name is Cold Adelline Cold I live in a yellow submarine in the summer and an igloo in the winter....."

Glitch (Part Four)

Norton sat in a stony silence for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but it seemed like hours.

Glitch (Part One)

A glowing golden centipede a good four feet long walked into the room through the solid brick wall behind the TV.

Glitch (Part Three)

The canvas began to shimmer and buckle as if looking at it through a heat haze.

Glitch (Part Two)

“Are you aware that an entity has just materialised on your hearth rug?”


This story is about, well, a turd.

Flat Nine

If you like the idea of human table lamps and sexually attractive ethnic minority kitchen appliances this is the story for you. Maybe.....

Helter Skelter (part one)

The end of the world is nigh! Oh shit, it already happened.....

Helter Skelter (part four)

"It was an absolute doddle," you say, "because you've never met a man that you couldn't twist around your little finger?"

The Dark Place

A little wind-up tin-plate monkey had rudely been tucked into the waistband of his underpants, and it continued frantically clapping its cymbals together.

Elsewhere (The Walrus's Story) Part One

Have you got a Facebook account? Hasn't every fucker, you say. As a matter of fact, no, not everyone has a Facebook account.

Elsewhere (The Walrus's Story) Part Two

When I checked out my Facebook account everything was hunky dory, apart from the following outlandish entry.....

Elsewhere (The Walrus's Story) Part Three

No, I reflected hurriedly - the thing's fangs were way too big to belong to any lion. It was a sabre toothed sodding tiger.....

Elsewhere (The Walrus's Story) Part Four

Clarence is the name, Clarence Peculiar Goatsucker at your service - no relation to the Chupacabras, the mysterious Latin American swine. Pleased to meet you, I'm sure.

Mr. Taylor

If that isn't temptation for perverts and rapists and bloody paedophiles, I don't know what is.....

Five-Oh-Six-Three (Part One)

Shit, what is this, a word association test? Pugh, Pugh, Barney, McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub – it's neither of those fuckers either, is it?”

Five-Oh-Six-Three (Part Three)

"Identify yerselves, or prepare to pay the muther-fuckin' consequences.”

Five-Oh-Six-Three (Part Four)

“I'm ecstatic, ectoplasmic, I'm orgasmic-fantastic! I'm a Rockabilly rebel, and I suck out drunken monkey brains.”

Five-Oh-Six-Three (Part Six)

“Yes, you – the purty little white boy. Are you deaf, dippy or both? Get your scrawny ass over here, I wanna feast my hungry black eyes on your naked, Caucasian English splendour.”

Five-Oh-Six-Three (Part Seven)

"If you're about to lose control of your sphincter muscle kindly step outside - I like to keep my hovel as clean as possible under the circumstances."

The Storymaker (Part One)

"If I wasn't here to keep you in line you'd die of malnutrition. Shit, I don't think you'd even remember to take a dump unless I reminded you....."

The Storymaker (Part Two)

For almost two years now he had been a member of an online Writers' group called XYZ Tales, and everything changed after he joined that group.....

The Storymaker (Part Three)

“You want adventure, you Buffalo faced bastard?” the Storymaker growled. “I'll give you a bloody adventure, you nauseating prick.”

The Storymaker (Part Four)

He only kept a single can in the house so that he wouldn't be tempted to cheat, because when it came to alcohol he was as weak as a baby.....

The Storymaker (Part Five)

Any minute now Buffalo Mozzarella is going to deliver his coup de grace, after a suitable interval so that he can enjoy the thought of you stewing in your socks, of course.

The Storymaker (Part Six)

all your chunky wifey really wants is to hear the dulcet tones of your voice to brighten up her otherwise miserable days, but you're too bloody stupid to realise that.

The Storymaker (Part Seven)

“Come on, baby!” Gordon encouraged his elderly computer. “You can do it, I know you can - my daughter installed lots of lovely updates for me the last time she was here.”

The Storymaker (Part Eight)

'Outside is a whole lot worse than inside, so don't even think about trying to escape.....'

The Storymaker (Part Nine)

“Don't give me the sedative, Hannah,” Gordon croaked. “I don't want it.”


“Muddypuddle. Muddypuddle. Muddypu – that's not this shit-hole's real name!”

The Blue Sky Boy

“My name is Aaron, and it's my duty to bring you bad tidings.”

The Dribble Bowl

My dribble bowl has tremendous sentimental value, and I inherited it from a long line of semi-aquatic fruitcake ancestors. We're all born with magnificent tusks and webbed hands and feet-cum-flippers - before the surgeons tidy us up, that is.

The End Of The Rainbow

A kid who just won't go to sleep.....

The Clockwork Steed (Part One)

Bucephalus's gas piston driven steel hooves beat out a steady, relentless rhythm as she crossed the rough, rubble strewn wasteland beyond the settlement.

The Clockwork Steed (Part Two)

“'Tis a winged steel hoss, harridan,” he replied, “a beautiful Clockwork Steed, your eyes should tell you that."

On Potters' Field (Part One)

“Who are you?” she said, sitting up. “And what are you?”

On Potters' Field (Part Two)

“Consider it a gift,” Thomekin said. “It's a flying robe, you're one with the birds.....”

Salmon Ella

“I'm salmonella,” a little voice whispered in Cliff's ear, threatening to drag him from his incomparably snug slumbers. “I'm salmonella, fly me.”