Category Archives: Mike and SJ Adventures

The Adventures of Mike and SJ – Episode 17

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This thread started on a forum Mike and I shared, when we started playing off each other about this alternative/fantasy persona we each gave ourselves. Since then, we’ve started writing a novel together and Mike has had a number of books published as Michael D. Griffiths (The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part I, The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part II, Eternal Aftermath) while I’ve been busy rewriting several books and establishing my Creative Writing classes at Northbrook College. But though he writes horror and I write sci fi, when we get together, we write… differently! So I thought I’d put a slice of our combined madness on my blog…

Dang it SJ

I swear that woman needs rescuing more than fifty teenagers in B rated horror movies. Oh Man now what? It looks like Edgar’s goons must have followed them here. I need to think of something quick!

Wow look at Jack going at them. Lucky thing this is England and guns are scarce. That gives him a chance to do what he does best— Fistiecuffs.

cauldronStill that leaves the monster for me. Wow, the crowd sure is going wild. Should I try to stay in character? ‘Forsooth fair maiden fear not, I ah, um, Othello MacBeth, Prince of… ah Wales, will rescue you!’

Now I just need to- Wait the cauldron. ‘Give me that. Hi there you must be the young crone. How you doin? Ergh – I’ve no time for this.’

Okay ally-op cauldron goes over the head and now. ‘Look out – here comes the battle turtle!’

Oops one problem with this plan. I can’t see a thing with this cauldron covering the upper half of my body. ‘Dang cat I….

‘…Ahh Ow! I must have fallen off the stage. Wow. That hurt.’

Which way is SJ? The goons must have found me. Ahh… they’re beating on the cauldron till I’m dizzier than a 15-year-old after their his drink.

Did I just hear an old lady scream? ‘Hey – watch it. Aren’t you smart enough to keep those little kids out of my way?

‘Don’t worry SJ I’m. Coming!’

*

At last – civilisation. Or, maybe that’s going a bit too far, seeing as we’re talking about a Premier Inn, here. But at least there’s hot running water, central heating and food we haven’t had to chase across a muddy field, kill and skin.

And I have my very own room. Away from Mike and Jack and Candleman (who is currently parked in Mike’s wardrobe). And their endless moaning about Brit weather. Like it’s MY fault.

As I kept telling them – it wasn’t my fault we were there in the first place. I wasn’t the one who insisted on taking the lead role in the Scottish Play. In those tights. Without learning the words.

Neither did I get up onto the stage and start cracking my whip everywhere and canoodling with one of the witches in the wings, after the Director came onto the stage in tears and announced that the performance was cancelled ‘due to unforeseen circumstances’.

Yeah – I did suggest that we take a Welsh cottage for a few weeks till the heat died down, tucked away in a little valley. It was advertised as ‘ideal for the holidaymaker who wants to get away from it all’. They weren’t kidding. There was no running water, just a well. And a small generator for lighting. No TV – and the reception for radio was dire. Couldn’t use mobile phones – and forget about the internet. I still maintain it was a good idea. It wasn’t MY fault about the weather. If you’ve been reading the news or watching TV, you’ll know about the floods in Wales. But you won’t have heard about our adventures. We might as well have been on the other side of the world, we were so cut off.

When I was awakened in the night by the squeaks and patter of rats running over the bed and jumped out of it into six inches of icy Floods-in-UKwater, I couldn’t call any emergency services. By the time I’d hauled on my sopping clothes, yelling that we were being flooded, the others were also surfacing. We all grabbed stuff we thought would be useful. I managed to snaffle a soggy loaf of bread, some butter and a couple of tins of tuna. Mike grabbed his teddy and a bottle of whiskey, fighting off the cat that insisted on perching on his head like some mad hat – while Jack saved his whip and a variety of sharp kitchen cutlery. Candleman just lurched through the puddles.

Half an hour later, the cottage was washed away in a coffee-coloured maelstrom that was more usually a pretty little river running through the bottom of the overgrown garden. I won’t bore you with the endless, dreadful days we spent marooned on a muddy patch of ground surrounded by swirling floodwater. Or the dreary trudge through drenched countryside, existing on various wildlife killed by Jack and CW’s cat. We even caught and roasted a swan (don’t tell the Queen…). Amongst other things. I’ve still got the upset stomach.

Till we reached civilisation, earlier today. Or rather, a Premier Inn… Where we all washed off days of mud, swan feathers, rat skins, hedgehog spines and rainwater. And ate several full English breakfasts. Each. Without speaking to each other. At all. In fact, I don’t care if I NEVER wear my eyes out on any of them, ever again…

The Adventures of Mike and SJ – Episode 15

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This thread started on a forum Mike and I shared, when we started playing off each other about this alternative/fantasy persona we each gave ourselves. Since then, we’ve started writing a novel together and Mike has had a number of books published as Michael D. Griffiths (The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part I, The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part II, Eternal Aftermath) while I’ve been busy rewriting several books and establishing my Creative Writing classes at Northbrook College. But though he writes horror and I write sci fi, when we get together, we write… differently! So I thought I’d put a slice of our combined madness on my blog…

Ow… My head…

chepstowImprisoned again. It’s sad that I’m starting to get used to this. They took all my weapons, but did they put me in the same cell? Ha- I guess they did, Suckers! I still have the key those dumba-

Wait who’s that coming in? Are they bringing me something to eat? Oh, Flippin’ Norah, it is the bughead Edgar again! I’m start to really hate this Son of a-

“Mr Griffiths, or should I say Bone – that is your warrior name isn’t it?”

“I prefer to think of it as my superhero name.”

“Superhero? Oh never mind, you and your foolish friends manage to make Scoobie Doo look like James Bond.”

“Ha! We messed up your dining room pretty good didn’t we and-“

“Silence fool! That will be the last expensive dish you ever break. The immature Thingthatmustnotbenamed has metamorphosed past the stage where it needs a host. Usually they eat their host, but in this case we have other plans for you.”

“What happened to my baby?”

“Baby,” *cough, sputter* “He is a madman! I want him gone. His usefulness is over. If someone else can find a way to deal with his idiocy, let it be their problem. I’m washing my hands of this. Goodnight, Mr. Bone – and may Evil follow your days and nights. We probably won’t meet again, I am done with your purile babbling.”

“Well, may you be strapped over an anthill on a sunny day you fish-bellied freak!”
At last he is gone. Didn’t so much as offer me a glass of water. Still, it doesn’t matter. He he he. I don’t even need Dahtoe this time – I have the key. Those morons! Now to escape and track down SJ and Jack.

*

Oh, WILL you stop moaning? Honestly, Jack – I thought you’d be grateful. We managed to sneak out of the castle while they were busy taking Mike off to the cells – but you got to blend in more. We don’t get all that many men wandering around these streets in buckskin leather-

Oh great… Now he’s got a face on him that would curdle vinegar and is marching up the street. I WISH we had Mike here. He has his off-moments, but he’s a walk in the park in comparison to Mr Wimmin-should-know-their-place…

Oh look. That speck over there…

Is that Dahtoe returning? Gosh, that didn’t take him long. He’s making a dreadful noise, though. Sounds like a half-strangled cat… Oh no… no, no NO. It IS a half-strangled cat! That idiot seagull! He was s’posed to deliver a note, threatening Edgar that we’d take his cat if cat_black_cat_pet_214496he didn’t instruct his goons to release Mike… Not grab the moggy and make off with it!

Jack. Look out! Dahtoe is above you and he’s diving-

Ouch. That MUST hurt. A furious cat landing on his head, like that. Hold onto it, Jack – don’t let it get away!

Too late… Hm. Hope the fleabit bag of fluff hasn’t got any nasty American diseases, seeing as he’s now loose in the streets of Chepstow…

Huh? Yeah – well I am sorry it landed on your head… Hey, just a minute – HOW is this my fault?

It was a perfectly good plan! How did I know that the stupid seagull would take it into his peabrain to grab the wretched cat?

Oh, for goodness sake! Trouble with you is that you’ve been spending far too much time listening to Mike’s hysterical ranting about Edgar and his fights with him. Hear HIM talk, you’d think that he was some mega-scary master-thinker who is five steps ahead of the rest of us sad proles. For starters, he’s tucked up in his draughty old castle. Calm down. C’mon, buddy. Deep breaths. I know – why don’t we catch a show? You’ll love it… Take your mind off our troubles. And then we’ll work out how to get Mike out of that dratted castle.

The Adventures of Mike and SJ – Episode 14

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This thread started on a forum Mike and I shared, when we started playing off each other about this alternative/fantasy persona we each gave ourselves. Since then, we’ve started writing a novel together and Mike has had a number of books published as Michael D. Griffiths (The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part I, The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part II, Eternal Aftermath) while I’ve been busy rewriting several books and establishing my Creative Writing classes at Northbrook College. But though he writes horror and I write sci fi, when we get together, we write… differently! So I thought I’d put a slice of our combined madness on my blog…

What I feel funny, but in a good way, like a five hundred pound weight has been lifted from my shoulders or maybe my brain!

Huh, what is that black glob of Cuthuhlu nastiness! SJ is screaming for me to control it. Oh man, it is going for the candles and making a real mess, I might add. Everyone is freaking out. The MIBs are drawing weird looking guns, I think Jack is shoving steak knives into his jacket.

I don’t care. That is the thing that was controlling me, making me hurt SJ. Screw that thing, screw everything else. I need to get away from it!

SJ and Jack are on the other side of the table. Oh wow the MIBs are opening up on the thing- why is SJ trying to save the crystal?

Oh this is it. I need to leap over the table to get to them. Oh wow that made a mess. Sheesh that gravy got everywhere. I hope that wasn’t that woman’s favorite white dress.

Oh quit it SJ! Remember they are evil. They deserve what they get. Come on we have to go while LWHB is distracting them. Wow look at Jack go with those knives. Yeah, give me a few.

We have to get out of here, before it reattaches— oh no it is coming after me! Look how huge it is now -I don’t want it back on MEEEEE!

Its coming! RUN RUN!

*

Jack! Psttt! Over here! Jack – will you stop flinging those steak knives around? Get behind this curtain RIGHT NOW! Because if you don’t – it could be curtains for Mike.

No… Mike isn’t behind the curtains – Look! He’s over there. Surrounded by that posse of MIB.candles

Yeah – I know there’s too many of them. But Little Wax-

I think we need a new name for him, frankly. I mean – Little Wax Head Boy might have been appropriate for the days when he was this cute little co-worker of Scotty’s, another lifetime ago. But just look at him… He’s now the size of a medium sized man. Can you imagine him now crawling back into poor old Mike’s hair? Let’s call him Candleman!

I’m not sure if he’s on our side, but he certainly isn’t on theirs. On account of Edgar getting upset when he started grabbing the candles and eating them – and making a right old mess of the table as a result. But of course the idiots thought it was all Mike’s fault. Ooo – that looks painful! Having all that wax jumping up and down on him must hurt – and of course it’s ruining his suit.

But – no, listen, Jack! This is REALLY important. While you were busy stabbing those guys who are leaking onto the carpet – that’ll cost a fortune to clean – I overheard Edgar phoning someone for instructions. You’ll never guess – it’s Miss Snodgrass! Question is, is she really an evil genius – or has she been somehow bamboozled by the baddies? She has instructed for Mike to be bundled up in chains and sent back to the States! We can’t let that happen – he hasn’t seen Buckingham Palace yet! We don’t want that, do we?

Think – Jack! What can we do to defeat Miss Snodgrass’s wicked machinations?

The Adventures of Mike and SJ – Episode 13

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This thread started on a forum Mike and I shared, when we started playing off each other about this alternative/fantasy persona we each gave ourselves. Since then, we’ve started writing a novel together and Mike has had a number of books published as Michael D. Griffiths (The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part I, The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part II, Eternal Aftermath) while I’ve been busy rewriting several books and establishing my Creative Writing classes at Northbrook College. But though he writes horror and I write sci fi, when we get together, we write… differently! So I thought I’d put a slice of our combined madness on my blog…

Oh dear, we are heading back to the castle I so recently escaped from. Oh my. At least Dahtoe is free. I wonder if he can get help?

Oh. The driver says we are being invited to dinner, along with the twenty MIB that are surrounding us. Jack and I finally share a laugh while we watch SJ preparing herself for the dinner.

‘One should always look their best for a proper formal meal. This man could be a Count or perhaps a Duke. I wonder if he’s married?’

‘He’s evil,’ Jack reminds her.

‘He’s probably loaded then, isn’t he?’ SJ continues to instruct us on proper manners with a zeal equal to her earlier cursing. I groan as we were finally led into the banquet hall.

***

I just HATE it when Mike puts words in my mouth, like that. And now, they’re CURSE words! As if I would let Aunt Gertrude down like that!

And it’s no good Mike and Jack rolling their eyes and making sarky comments when I gave them a crash course in table manners – theydining-etiquette-tips-M3_Q1_267 surely need it. Mike is just about on nodding terms with basic cutlery when he’s on his own – but get Jack sitting across the table and he just REVERTS. Ever watched a 2 year old eating a banana? Well, that’s more or less the level of finesse that the Dining Duo demonstrate when demolishing their food.

Oh no… Just look at this Banqueting Hall – the long table adorned with acres of crisp white damask tablecloth. Solid silver candlesticks loaded with white candles; their flickering light ricocheting off the glittering crystalware and shining ranks of cutlery. Oh my… look at this – soup spoons, fish knives and forks, main course, cheese knives. Ooo – and the napkins are folded into swans!

Wish I was wearing a nice dress… Aunt Gertrude would LOVE this. And the man seated to my right looks very… smooth. It’s always nice to see a man wearing a really well-fitted suit. Mmm like his aftershave. Trouble is – I’ve Jack sitting on my left. And is he excited or impressed with all this?

No – he’s got that scrunched look on his face – you know – like the grumpy garden gnome with the fishing rod who never catches anything… ‘Know what this fuss all means,’ he mumbles, jerking his head at the table. ‘Means they gonna muck ’bout with the chow. They’ll be spendin’ aller time bringin’ fancy-antsy stuff on plates. Two chews an’ it’ll be gone. Can’t ‘bide my chow bein messed with…’

Oh dear… I have a BAD feeling about this meal. ‘Please Jack, don’t do anything, now… Let’s make a good impression.’

‘Wanna make up yer min’ which side yer on, wimmin,’ he growls.

Here comes the starter… Ooo – caviar – yum! On waver-thin toast you can almost see through! Mm…

‘See? I tol yer. Fish eggs! That’s not gonna keep a man goin’, is it now?’

Oh no… Oh – Mike! Pstttt! Stop Little Wax Head Boy! He’s sliding out of your hair and making for the candles. And now he’s upset the wine cooler… Oh – I could just slide under the table from embarrassment! Let’s hope this doesn’t get any worse…

The Adventures of Mike and SJ – Episode 12

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This thread started on a forum Mike and I shared, when we started playing off each other about this alternative/fantasy persona we each gave ourselves. Since then, we’ve started writing a novel together and Mike has had a number of books published as Michael D. Griffiths (The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part I, The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part II, Eternal Aftermath) while I’ve been busy rewriting several books and establishing my Creative Writing classes at Northbrook College. But though he writes horror and I write sci fi, when we get together, we write… differently! So I thought I’d put a slice of our combined madness on my blog…

Honestly. It’s enough to make a woman give up and go home! Except that half the Met police force will be double-parked outside my little cottage, waiting for us to show up…

I mean – how often do you get the producer of Dr Who make an offer of employment? It could’ve been a real opportunity.

londonstreetBut no – Jack has to attempt to shove the soundman’s big fluffy mic up the guy’s left nostril. And why? Because when the bloke offered Jack Billy Piper’s autograph, Jack figured that Billy was a boy – and to use his own words, ‘Figured the durn waste’ve skin an’ air took me fer some kinda homo that were lookin’ fer company. An’ I ain’t standin’ fer that kinda insult.’

As I mentioned to Jack at the top of my voice – no one would mistake him for a homo sapien anytime soon, if he went on behaving like a snake-bit seagull. He and Dahtoe make a pair and that’s a fact. I ALSO pointed out that if he was feeling quite so protective of his manhood, then maybe he should reconsider wearing those leather trousers. They might be good at keeping out the dust and wind in the American panhandle – but they make quite a different fashion statement on the streets of London…

So now he’s stomping around with a face blacker than a thunderstorm and muttering under his breath about ‘wimmin not knowin’ their place these days…’

Meanwhile, Mike is fluttering around Jack with remarks like, ‘C’mon buddy. You know SJ. All bark and no bite. She didn’t mean it, pal…’ Stuff like that… Way to go, Mike. Nice to know I can count on you for backup in a tight spot.

So – I’ve done all I can. I tried to get us away without any fuss – but Dahtoe trashing the Food Hall in Harrods put paid to that scheme. And now, Jack’s messed up this chance to stay safe AND earn us some much-needed cash.

And it’s no good Mike patting me on the shoulder and telling me it’ll be fine. Cos I’ve seen him looking at all those creepy guys hanging around outside the pub. Which we’re going to have to leave right now. Or have Jack arrested for assault with a deadly weapon – the big fluffy mic.

Right *deep breath and hands in pockets like I don’t care if I’m about to die* Hang on – what’s this? Oh, it’s the gem I found stuck to the bottom of my jeans. I wonder whether it-

Oh – I just HATE it when Mike’s hair does that…

Little Wax Head Boy? Is that you? Goodness – haven’t you grown! You want – what? The gem – no! We’ve got to take it back to Her Majesty. No – you can’t have it. It’s property of the Crown! You make Her Majesty mad – and you’ll be SO sorry. She’ll pinch her lips together and look disapproving and the Beefeaters will march you off to the Houses of Parliament and you’ll be doomed to listen to House of Commons’ debates about fracking and killing badgers for the next 10 years… The European Court of Human Rights reckons that comes under the heading of ‘cruel and unusual punishment’, by the way…

There! I’ve swallowed it. You can’t have it now.

Ahh… Stop – don’t! Mike! Don’t just stand there looking all waxy – help me! He can’t-

Ahh….

***

Ah… why are we in this Limo?

Why is SJ not answering me? Jack doesn’t seem to be too pleased either. I knew they were angry with each other, but why are they angry with me? And how did we get captured again?

SJ, what happened? SJ what did I do?’ This is bad.

My hair? What about my bloody hair – wait – there’s blood on it?? Oh – SJ! You and your Brit curses… Kids could be reading this.  My hair grabbed you and beat up Jack when he tried to help while I went all waxy again… You sure about this?  Cos I reckon that tea you keep drinking-  Okay, okay, keep your voice down.  Just thought I’d give it a mention.

Why don’t we cut it off then? Sheesh, okay, okay stop yelling, will you? How was I to know that you blunted your favourite garden shears hacking away at my hair? And – I have to say, I’m kinda shocked at you using garden tools on my hair. One snip in the wrong place – I could’ve been earless. And I’m mightily relieved that you couldn’t get the chainsaw going, as it happens…

Look – SJ – I’m really sorry about all the stuff that’s happened. Let’s have a big hug and put it behind us-GD075-Garden-hedge-shears-2

Sheesh! Oh boy… are you hurt?

Hey Jack, you saw… it was an accident. Right? I really didn’t mean for my hair-spike to poke SJ’s eye like that.

Jack? Are you not speaking, either?

Hey – I’m sorry they took all your weapons, buddy… Maybe they’ll give them back…

So… you’re not speaking to me, either. Oh man. Never thought I’d find a trip in a limo such a drag. With you two for friends, no wonder I gotta seagull for a pet…

The Adventures of Mike and SJ – Episode 11

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This thread started on a forum Mike and I shared, when we started playing off each other about this alternative/fantasy persona we each gave ourselves. Since then, we’ve started writing a novel together and Mike has had a number of books published as Michael D. Griffiths (The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part I, The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part II, Eternal Aftermath) while I’ve been busy rewriting several books and establishing my Creative Writing classes at Northbrook College. But though he writes horror and I write sci fi, when we get together, we write… differently! So I thought I’d put a slice of our combined madness on my blog…

Maybe this will work out if I can Mike to calm down. Jack’s alright. Well – not really. He’s sitting in the corner downing a gallon of beer, along with his sorrow that he couldn’t continue his big old punch-up. Not with that huge guy still crying cos Jack punched him in the jaw. They’re actors, you see.

blimpWe’ve managed to gatecrash a BBC production shoot of the new Dr Who series in this London pub, where they’ve just been setting up a big publicity stunt for the new Christmas special. Got this big blimp looking like an alien ship floating in the sky, with people on harnesses being winched up. Jack went into hero overdrive – grabbed hold of one girl’s legs, while Dahtoe started attacking the blimp. We did manage to stop the mad bird before he brought it down, which was a huge relief for everyone living under it. I think they’re bonkers – whatever happened to CGI? Putting stuff like that up in the sky, is just asking for trouble when the likes of Dahtoe is loose up there…

The producer came and introduced himself – and I braced myself, waiting for the rant about wrecking his set and causing all this trouble. But no. For a change, he was really nice and wants us along as part of the storyline, apparently. Thinks that we look ‘the real thing’ – whatever that is. Trouble is, Mike’s just puddled down into a glassy-eyed, foot shuffling fool, who keeps mumbling ‘Billy Piper’ under his breath and turning unbecoming shades of beet that clash with the alternating stripes in his hair.

I tried to tell him that Billy Piper stopped being Dr Who’s plucky assistant a few series ago – but I don’t think it went in. I’ve a nasty feeling that it isn’t Mike who’s seriously stuck on Ms Piper – I reckon it’s Little Wax Head Boy. And trying to get the LWHB to change his mind is about as easy as ten pin bowling with a boulder.

They’ve given us a script and we’ve got two hours to learn the words. If I can’t get Mike to snap out of it, we’ll never manage. Ah – I’ve an idea. Granted, it’s a bit extreme. But it’s worth a go – after all desperate times call for desperate measures. If nothing else, we could do with the cash – they’re offering us £400 a day. Each…

If I could just get Dahtoe to land on Mike’s shoulder and nibble at his ear. A bit. The pain might bring him round. I don’t like doing it – but it’s called tough love…

Dahtoe! Here, boy! Look – pork scratchings… Yeah – thought that would get your attention. And another piece – wow, it’s cool watching you snatch it out of the sky, like that… But what about this, then? A nice tasty piece – only I’ve hidden it in Mike’s ear… C’mon, Dahtoe…

***

What huh, YOW!

Get off me you, silly bird. Some familar you are. Yeah, you better keep moooovvvving away.

What’s going on now? What is Jack all grumpy about? Huh – what? The soundman’s evil and SJ won’t let you kick his butt because we soundamnare broke?

What – we are going to be on the BBC? Well…I did a little acting myself. I’m sure you saw that nurse training video that came out in 2004. You see I played a mean foreman and-

*Whispering* Oh shoot, I didn’t know they were filming just then. No, Jack I don’t think the soundman did that on purpose. Yes, I think we should leave, but SJ won’t let us. She keeps going on and on about her power bills and all the petrol she has bought. Besides… I have to admit a little beer money won’t hurt.

Um… do I want Billy Piper’s autograph? Oh yeah… that’d be totally cool! Have you met her – she looks so hot… Wait – aren’t you the soundman?

Jack, NO STOP!

The Adventures of Mike and SJ – Episode 10

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This thread started on a forum Mike and I shared, when we started playing off each other about this alternative/fantasy persona we each gave ourselves. Since then, we’ve started writing a novel together and Mike has had a number of books published as Michael D. Griffiths (The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part I, The Chronicles of Jack Primus, Part II, Eternal Aftermath) while I’ve been busy rewriting several books and establishing my Creative Writing classes at Northbrook College. But though he writes horror and I write sci fi, when we get together, we write… differently! So I thought I’d put a slice of our combined madness on my blog…

Yeah – go on Jack! Knock ’em for six! Hey – Mike can handle himself… Well, his hair can anyway. Go on, Mike’s spikes! Ooo – that looked hairy…

Hm. Judging by the sound of those sirens, we’re going to have the police here in a tick. C’mon, boys. Stop messing around – finish ’em off. Yeehah! That’s the way…

Right – now – we need to find out exactly where we are… Hah – yes – Oxford Street is just over there. So – if we just scramble over this wall – here. That’s right. Stand on the wheelie bins, Jack, then you can climb- or vault over if you feel like showing off.

Yes, yes – Mike. I KNOW it was a cool fight – and yes – well done, you did a fine job. But you really need to stop air-boxing and reliving every glorious second… Mike! Now!

Yeah – well if I’m being a sour old nag, it’s cos you drive me to it.

Now – we need to cut across these gardens. Jack – try to keep off the flower beds, there’s a good chap. Mike – it’s so not cool to take pics of people in their homes while we’re sneaking around their gardens…

Right – now. Through this door and into the alley…. And out into this street.

Now. There! Am I the greatest, or what? Look where I’ve brought us – we can dodge into Harrods, the store for the Top People – and mingle in with the crowd. Though maybe Jack’s scuffed leather look and Mike’s extreme hairdo mightn’t exactly fade into the background…

harrods foodhallYeah – the Food Hall – you’ll like that…

Oh no – Jack’s caught sight of the jerky – and the price tag. No – Jack – that’s pounds – not pence. Yes, I KNOW it’s a bit expensive… Er – and this is your home-made jerky… Hm. No – I wouldn’t demand to see the manager to show him what the real thing tastes like. Remember – we need to keep a low profile.

Mike! No – let’s leave the display alone. Yeah – I think it’s a sweet idea – and I’m sure dear Aunt Gertrude would just love these individually wrapped, handcrafted Swiss chocs… But, maybe another time.

Dahtoe! Oh no! And – he’s – yep – he’s managed to completely destroy the fresh fish and ice sculpture representation of Disney’s Little Mermaid. Pst… Mike – no – maybe this isn’t the best time to whistle to him… Can’t we just pretend we don’t know him?

Erm… Run guys. Store security is closing in – and they seem to have a sense of humour failure over Dahtoe’s contribution to the Top People’s shopping experience…

So much for blending into the background *sigh*

***

I could swear we hadn’t done anything to tick off any British bobbies – so why are they chasing us too?’

Yes, Jack, I imagine it was a long flight,  And the fight in the alley worked up a thirst in me too – but I think they’ll notice if we just run into some random pub.   Now all this running away from folks if making me hungry, too, and SJ’s face is so red she is reminding me of lobster.

Do they have lobster here in GB? SJ? SJ? I think she is mad at me for some reason. Sheesh women.pub

Oh wait she’s hi-tailed through that door…

Ah, a pub at last!  No, no, SJ, calm down.  Let’s NOT run straight through and out the back.  Let’s rest up here a while.  Do some of that mingling you were after.  What sort of trouble could we get into in a pub? Yes, I know Soccer is really football. No, I won’t toss my throwing knives at the dartboard and I’ll make sure Jack doesn’t take on the whole bar. He only likes to fight evil people. Oh wait – Jack, where you going?

He is walking over to those two guys in black trenchers – I think he reckons they’re… Uh SJ, is it to late to un-promise that Jack wasn’t going to get into a fight?  At least he waited until we got our pints first.  He looks busy chasing that guy whose crying around the snooker table.  I might as well finish his.  I’m sure he won’t mind.