Being a good Puck or not, Bill determined, against all odds, to overcome his disability and learn, albeit with great trepidation and fear, how to...crackle glaze!
With Laurence leaning nonchalently against the doorway, a sardonic grin lost in the curls of his chesnut and well-manicured mane, Bill grabbed the...
But enough of this daydreaming, thought Bill as he chucked the thought of Puck out of his mind.
Bill reached for the door knob closest to hand, turned, jerked open the door and barrelled through.
An eager-to-please lad was Sid and, although now sadly divested of his swirling glass globes, he was more than willing to sacrifice that other great love of his life...
...Ladyshave!
"It's no good!" she cried, "It's just got to come off!" and grabbing the offending follicles in a chubby paw, she prepared to defoliate herself...
YOU'RE COMING WITH US! cried Bill and stashed the moustachio-ed lassie into hs duffel bag....
AWAY! AWAY TO SEA! he cried.
and away to sea they sped
with a stormy gale
upon their tail
and a hold of mouldy bread
OH GOD! WE"LL STARVE they realised
but Bill said DO SICKEN!
FOR I AM MADE
OF CHOCOLATE SPREAD
and partial to a lickin'...
Now the girl in the duffel bag was actually a fairy. When she saw the crews plight, she had great sympathy for them.
She popped out of the duffel bag trailing magic dust behind her.
" Fear not I can magic food," she said.
and waving her magic wand she produced a great...
"Boatbuilding for the Poetically Challenged"
Bill, being an ancient mariner
was no stranger to rime
but he was concerned
if it was yet his time
to call on the ghost
of horatio
and do a full nelson
(including fellatio)
on....
" oh dear!" the fairy exclaimed
"It seems my magic has gone horribly wrong again."
the crew walied in torture and went to put the fairy back in the duffel bag.
she waved her magic wand once again and...
he was feeling all wired up like, totally deranged he was. Humming for a strong connection... a soulful vibration that cost a hundred squid... so the highest did bid and the money they gave Sid...
... it came from beneath Bill's unruly pile of rejected manuscripts... *flashback... one dark Valentine night Bill was furiously... er... working yes working at his desk... the beads of ...eh... 'sweat' popping and dropping from his forehead all over the joint. right. and they dashed and splashed all over his rejection pile... somehow it reacted in the light of the halogen lamp and its proximity to a special chemical fomrulation left there by an unknown female Scientist visitor to Bill's shack one afternoon and LO! and BEHOLD! after a slightly overlong gesticulation period it sprang and bulged and leapt from the desk.... REJECTION MAN! (TM).... NO! cried REJECTION MAN! (TM) loosening Bill's overcoat and slipping his papery hands with gifted and ebviable ease inside Bill's sailor suit... suddenly REJECTION MAN! (TM) caught sight of the photograph of the buxom editor of a well-known net-based literary organisation NO! he cried and...
smearedhisfacebutterutterpunkjunkslunkwaytomalkiealkie took hisfancymethisnancygoddardthinkshessohardeffinb@st@rdsmearmyfacecantplaybasssweartearmyclothesbloodynose...
said sid as he poured over the guardian in a wine bar just as his jacket sleeve caught on a passing zepellin...
"No!" cried Bill.
But Rejection Man, excited by the thought of said comely editor, had already spilt his emulsion on the decking, which had been hurried constructed by Tommy-two-days the day before.
"Who are you," asked Bill.
"I'm the answer to your prayers," replied Rejection Man.
part two
The cold of day returned in our old Bill's huddle, as the fire from the crashed & looted PC continued on ablaze. Coffees were handed round the office as all and sundry gazed into the fantasy flames they had created with their tale-bearing recall.
Login 'Pegasus' the sarge proferred, see how the tossers respond. Always relishing a bit of coded adventure he gave it a click and low and behold they fell right into the tender little trap.
"It's all gone a tad Pete Tong, sarge", squeaked rookie Nige at the keyboard.
In their wild exploration they had disregarded the time, which was rocking their fragile boat like so much wind and sea.
.
"Can I have a cup?" said Rejection Man.
"Who are you?" said Bill, scratching himself. "This hasn't got anything to do with Easy Jenny the pirate queen, has it? I seem to remember someone mentioning her."
"No," said Rejection Man.
"Oh," said Bill. "Is this what they call bathos?"
"Yes."
"Right."
I've come to help you in your struggle for recognition."
"You mean mother will know me as her son?"
"She doesn't already?"
"Only at gunpoint."
" Anyway" said Bill. "Are you able to help me substantiate Catherine Kerrigan’s claim that a ‘very strong case may be made for saying that the ballad represents a vital and sustained women’s tradition’ as outlined in her Anthology of Scottish Women Poets?"
"Is that on page two?" asked REJMAN...
"Yes! You know it? How wonderful!... You see, the ballads rely emphatically upon the major female roles in the various contexts of society and culture and I suggest they offer not simply a tradition of literature but a tradition of gender, and how it is appropriated through history."
But REJMAN's gaze was snagged once again on the photograph... "oh emily oh my emily oh MY! emily"...
...now
"I never thought he would actually leave" Anne thought as she stood choking back tears in the doorway of the shack she had shared with Bill, or as her friends called him: "Nutty-the-Crazy-Guy", for the last three months.
She knew he was gone, as he only ever left his chair to relieve himself, and she had passed the empty outhouse on her way from the truck.
He had been threatening for weeks to "Go back to the sea", but she had been sure that was just his trademark rambling nonsense.
She set own her bags and went to put on some tea, but upon seeing Bill's giant pile of rejected manuscipts she fell to the floor and began to quake sobbing.
"I tried so hard to accommodate him, why did he leave?"
She lifted her head slowly and noticed something very odd for the first time.
On the back of the only door in thier pitiful dwelling giant letters had been crudely carved.
They said: "DRinK froM OnLY 1 !!!"
She rose to get a closer look but was interupted by...
" And just how exactly are you going to help me in my struggle for recognition rejection man?" Bill asked. " I mean your name hardly fills me with hope."
But those of us who know of the sea are not impressed. For the sea is older and wiser than us all and she never forgets.
Britney, Emily or even Dubberley - it's all the same to Davy Jones. His locker is the stuff of legends but his breath is even worse.
Bill reached for the bottle one more time. He'd been drinking pure salamander for days now and it was time to make his move...
Enter Alan Titchmarsh doing voice to camera:
"The way to double the size of your double entendres is to plant them early and allow them to flourish."
"Who's the guy with cute accent," Brit-Em said.
"Geoff Boycott," said Bill, sucking on his Salamander.
amazed that Alan-Britney-Emily was already talking about a hand-shandy Bill collapsed in a heap on the floor. Being over seven hundred years old he had only survived thanks to the wonderful life iving properties of salamander. However he was now dead leaving the mysterious singing concoction to fend for itself. It's first step was to...
..metamaphosing into a macaw...
These gaudy birds, beloved of David Attenborough and his ilk, are not renowned, however, for their ability to keep theire beaks shut.
In this case, though...
..it decided, prudently, as it turned out, to itself partake of the Golden Salamander not, it must be stressed, in order to get plastered, but rather to extend its somewhat limited shelf life...
700 years looks enticing, if you're a bird...
They we're all in a state of deep meditation contemplating Bills demise. " He was a good bloke was Bill, I remember when he would leave bits of bread out for us."
but a new macaw entered the scene.. it was Bill he had been reincarnated...
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