Leggings - The Nightly Sale and the Whisky Run!

Leggings - The Nightly Sale and the Whisky Run!

”It's the turn of the big man with the hairy bottom tonight!” said Kitty brightly on the phone, “I declare he ran past my window and shouted to the flat next door that if I was alive and on the bus to work in the morning, his turn was up. He'd have to be dead!”

“Cool,” I responded over the phone, this was gob-smacking, although nothing unusual, “Did he know you were in?”

“Don't think so,” she returned cheerfully, “I've got all the lights off. Not a nice boy however!”

“Any more since then? Do you want some company?”

“Oh, the Salem lot are selling me for psychic chats,” Kitty went on, “Remorselessly! Must be in their genes. Don't come over, they'd only sell you as well! You'd make their night a double profit one!”

“I'll stop here then.”

“Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. I saw another one as I got up, with my eyes closed, again. Someone was taking a another person out on a trolley, bagged. Really weird! No idea who though!”

“Gosh, I'm I don't see that!” That put the wind up me a little. What a weird unhappy thing to see.

“I once told them I'd see them out!” Kitty went on, “I'm now keeping my word. At least that is possibly another tormentor to go...”

“So any-other weirdo's?” I went on. There were usually lots of the different fractions.

“Scottish!” she said happily, “All swearing Prince Charles has got his Whisky back and sobbing over having drank their final glass from last time. Then they've done their bit of tormenting, and stayed, so I expect they are up to finding another lot somewhere – delivered close by tonight.”

“Why so late?”

“Done to keep it out of the hands of the thieves of course.” Kitty laughed, quite delighted by all this madness... “I mean its got to go into good Scots hands now hasn't it, and down Scot's throats makes it even better!”

I shook my head, didn't know what to say... The Bible says somewhere that stolen fruit tastes sweeter, only that's to do with the act, more than the taste... I don't think that Whisky tastes different through being stolen. “I suspect they can't afford it!”

“Yeah!” she said, “Wish I could go to sleep, a Whisky would help right now!”