The Hundred Pound Note (with two alternate endings) (Deleted stories)

It was a Scottish hundred pound note, with Balmoral castle on one side and Lord Ilay on the other.

As with many things Robert was slow to react when this small fortune, dancing and twirling on

the autumn wind fluttered down upon his lap, interrupting his daydreams and, as with many things,

when he finally did wake up to the value of the thing resting on the edge of his lap it was far too late,

the hundred pound note suddenly leaping up, carried away by a sharp gust of wind before his clumsy fingers could grasp hold of it.

 

But it had grasped hold of him. These were very hard times and a hundred pounds, though a paltry sum of money to the multi-billionaires in the glossy magazines, was a whole week’s wages to him.

 

Following its seductive dance with his eyes, as it looped and whirled through the air, he saw it spiral down upon the top of a public waste paper bin.

 

“I really hope that no one else has noticed it”, he thought, rising from the park bench where he’d been sitting and moving, quickly but nonchalantly over to the bin; reaching out to grab hold of it.

 

But the hundred pound note seemed to have other ideas for, wagging its tail tantalizingly, it edged

inches from the grasp of his fingers before taking off again, the bewigged Lord Ilay appearing to grin

back at him as he watched the wind whisk it away towards another part of the park.

 

Someone was sure to see it now he thought, it was his last chance, and so he lunged after it, almost stumbling onto the wet grass upon which it seemed to be stuck, seeing only his prize in front of him

and not , sadly, the heel of a shoe that crushed down upon his fingers.

 

Yelping, he winced, clutching his throbbing forefinger as a smartly dressed woman looked disapprovingly down at him like something revolting she’d just put her foot into but any embarrassment he felt was soon replaced by renewed desire as he saw the hundred

pound note lift off again, brushing briefly past his nose as the wind picked it up, hurling

it high up into the air, higher than he could reach, even jumping; Lord Illay once again seeming to grin down at him for an instant before the wind, dying down, let the hundred pound note zig-zag

into a pushchair and onto the stripy romper suit of a gurgling baby.

 

The baby’s mother, sitting on a park bench, pushing the pushchair gently back and forward while she talked on her cell phone seemed totally oblivious to the existence of the hundred pound note though the infant then grabbed hold of it in its short, stubby fingers and looked at it curiously, unaware of just what it had within its hand then, sticking a corner of the hundred pound note into its mouth it tested it to see if it was edible before, judging the note to be worthless, letting it slip from its grasp to the leafy ground.

 

All the while, he watched, with a hopeful expression in his eyes;  all the while oblivious to the fact that a policeman had caught sight of him.

 

“How are you today, Sir? Are you alright?”, asked the policeman, in a friendly fashion, putting a hand upon his shoulder.

 

“Wha-?”, he said, startled, looking round at the large, cigar shaped fingers and their tall, burly, dark-uniformed owner, before gaining some composure, clearing his throat for no logical reason and saying, “Yeah. Just fine”.

 

 

 

“Good”, said the policeman, satisfied, “As long as your alright sir. You see, we’re looking for a missing person.  Someone who was last seen in this park”.

 

Then the policeman handed him a leaflet with a photograph of a young man on it. It was a missing poster which he quickly stuffed into his jacket pocket

 

In the meantime, the hundred pound note had, bizarrely, not budged an inch from its place next to one of the wheels of the push chair as if it had been waiting for the policeman to leave and for his insane pursuit of it to recommence and, only when the policeman finally started to walk away did

the banknote spring to life once more, this time blowing off into the woods at the edge of the park.

 

“Now’s my chance” he thought , running after the note and pushing aside prickly branches of

douglas firs as he followed it into the wood.

 

It was dark inside the wood but, somehow, it never let him lose sight of it, always fluttering near to wherever light was shining through the canopy of trees until, finally it came to rest at the foot of a pine and, eagerly, he bent down to pick it up.

 

 

                                         FLIP A COIN TO SEE HOW THIS STORY WILL END

 

 

HEADS Ending:

 

 

But, just at that moment, he heard a voice, no, two voices speaking in an odd way, like someone gargling.

 

“I’ve got another bite!”, exclaimed one.

 

“Another one! Well then, reel it in. Reel it in!”, replied the other, impatiently.

 

Then, all of a sudden, he felt himself dragged upwards at immense speed; tree branches and tree tops; high flying birds and snowy white clouds all brushing past his face as he rushed upwards, screaming and, looking up he saw a large circular door opening wide then, dazed and bewildered, he realized that he was in some strange darkened room full of large polyhedral containers that looked

almost like a cargo hold.

 

“I’ve caught another man!”, said the scaly, fish faced alien creature gazing gleefully down at him.

 

“This one’s a big one too”, said his friend, licking his lips.

 

TAILS Ending:

 

But just at that moment, he saw what looked like a glowing hand materialize around the hundred pound note and out of the hand grew an arm and then a torso; another arm, two legs and a smiling

face.

 

“Thank god. I thought that no one would ever find me. Now you can tell my family and the police where I am”, said the glowing figure that, shocked,  he then realized was a ghost who looked just like the face in the missing poster and, at the feet of the ghost, he noticed a body lying, face down.