Thursday, 17 September 2026

GOX 8: The Trip (Part 5) The Eyes of Innocence

Greg and Pete ended up being unloaded into a dusty grotty basement.  And then they got tied to chairs.
  Of all of the disastrous situations the lads had gotten themselves into since leaving home this present business with the Mafia was indeed out there as the most horrible experience of them all.  YES it was everything horrible you could image!  This new horrible experience was the elixir to gloom, the antidote to joy, the remedy against happiness!   It was the ultimate of the most ultimate of crap to ever be experienced in the whole human experience and it was all disastrously conceived in one single place.  Einstein would have been blown away to see so much calamity gathered in a single section of human space.  If he had ever witnessed a portion of Pete and Greg's lives back in the day he would have addressed the faculty in one of his lectures with something like:  'Zis is impossible!'  And this is from the man who penned the theory of relativity.
  In other words the lads were in a pickle...
  'Don't worry Greg.  It might all be the work of the DT's,' said Pete, who was trying to be positive through all the horror of their current predicament.  He truly did deserve a medal then.  Most people would have completely broken down or died of a heart attack - but Pete was still with it and still positive.  It was all pretty impressive really.
  'Sorry Pete,' Greg replied glumly.  'We are stone sober right now.  But gosh do I wish I was drunk.  It might make this damn mess a little cleaner.'
  The smartly dressed Italian introduced himself as Don Gambino Salvatore Maranzano Thins.  He was pacing up and down restlessly chewing a toothpick and looking every now and then at a framed painting of his his beloved uncle LA Thins the master pool player.
  The Don finally stopped his pacing to speak:
  'You lads are fools to play games with me,' he said.  'My family have power in Fenwick.  We have contacts in New York as well.  Look!  See that fine painting on the wall up there.  That is my Uncle, LA Thins.  Master pool player.  All men feared him when he was alive.  He offered the hand of friendship to the Kings during the Irish Wars.  But the Kings bit his hand...  They betrayed him.  They stole his shop, his name...  his memory.  Now I am going to bite back even if it means fighting a war.  I will do it all for my uncle and for my family.  Do any of you  in this room understand what I am saying?'
  Greg and Pete were too scared to understand anything at that moment but they wagged their heads approvingly because that seemed the right thing to do in the moment.
  'I offered a tender hand of friendship to the Kings,' the Don droned on.  'I gave them friendship.  I forgave the Kings for their crimes against the family.  We straightened things out with one another.  We worked together for years.  Our two families were finally bound by honour.  But it was not enough!  The treachery of the Kings cannot be stemmed.  They are all thugs and killers.  Savages.  And then they stole from me.  This is a debt that can only be repaid by blood.  Now you are going to tell me what I want to know about the Kings.  What is their next move?'
  'I know nothing about the Kings,' Greg replied with a stammer.
  'I don't even know who they are,' said Pete choking on his tears.
  'You are both very good actors I will give you that,' said the Don.  'The Kings bought quality when they invested in you two.  First class actors, but second class liars.  Because you see I  can tell you are lying to me.  You will talk.  Do you hear?  You will talk and you will tell me EVERYTHING.'
  'Listen mate!  You have got the wrong guys,' said Greg.
  The Don turned and slapped Greg clean around the face.
  'Like I said I am going to give you time to think,' the Don went on.  'When I return you will speak and you will tell me what I want to hear.'
  There was another person in the room.  The Don switched the lights on.  It was Vance.
  Of course it was...
  This is what the Don said to him:
  'As for you, King.  For you the nightmare has only just to begun...' After that the Don walked away slamming the basement door shut behind him as he left the scene.
  The three of them were on their own at last.
  So there was Vance, looking in bad shape and all tied up.  Weird thing is it looked like he was actually enjoying the experience.  There was a smile on his face.  He looked happy.  It made no sense at all.  Vance really was a weird penny in a purse...
  'Don't worry lads,' said Vance with a cheereful beat in his voice.  
  'Don't worry!  We are not worried, Vance.  NO!  We are flipping terrified,' Greg replied.
  'There is no need to feel that way!  Listen!  It's all fake' said Vance.
  WHAT?
  Pete and Greg were confused and they were indeed well within their rights to feel that way...
  What did Vance mean it was ALL fake?
  They asked Vance to explain himself.
  'It's a setup.  All of it.  I paid for this experience,' said Vance.  'That's right!  I paid to get kidnapped!'
  'You paid money to set this all up?' said Greg.  Greg was plainly confused as ever, but also a little relieved as well.  'If what you are saying is true then I am glad of course!' Greg went on.  'Please tell me you are being serious with us right now?' 
  'Don't worry lads!  It is ALL cool!  I have a CODE word that get us out of this fix!  It is true!  As soon as I use the CODE they will let us go home,' said Vance.
  As soon as Pete heard this he stopped crying.  'Why would you want to experience something as horrible as this?' he said.  'I mean why would you waste money just to be terrified to death by insane gangsters?'
  'For the thrill!' Vance replied calmly.  'It is something weird I am into, that's all.'
  THAT'S ALL????
  'You get to my age and you have seen it all,' said Vance wistfully.  He sounded like he was talking about some fine old memory of when he used to take his pet dog for a walk in the fields, not about paying people to kidnap him for fun.  'I have sampled every drug every drink - everything,' Vance droned on.  'I have been in a war I was in the Falklands.  I have tasted all that life has to give.  There is no more thrill in just being.  Some people they like to settle down, and I get it.  But that ain't me, lads.  That ain't me.  I never wanted to settle down.  My uncle used to kick me for it.  He told me I was carrying the King name.  My uncle can't have kids, you see.  He wanted me to have kids.  I didn't want kids.  I have had plenty of chances...  But...  I just can't settle down!  I can't do it!'
  'So you pay the Mafia to kidnap you instead?' said Greg.
  'That is my whole life there on a silver platter,' said Vance.  He sighed before he continued.  'I am addicted to being kidnapped.  I can't help,' he said.  'Nothing else in the world gives me such a rush.  I am a man of the world.  I have jumped out of aeroplanes, jumped out of cars stood in front of trains - but nothing in the world quite beats being kidnapped by armed and dangerous thugs.'
  It was obvious to all who knew Vance by now that the man was plainly weird.  But being kidnapped for fun?  Really?  How weird does weird actually get - that's what Greg was thinking right then as he sat and squirmed in that gloomy room under the ground.
  Yes.  Vance was definitely up there in the list of highly weird human beings.  He might actually take pole position on that grid!
  'I know what you are thinking,' Vance went on.  'Yeah.  I am disturbed.  I know.  But I like being this way.  I would rather be disturbed than, you know, like most other people and let's be honest most people are just as interesting as plank of wood.  Actually, no, I am wrong.  A plank of wood is actually quite interesting if you think about it, I mean you can whittle it down and make something good out of it if you but try.  You cannot do that with people.  That's why I like being who I am.  I am a broken soul, and that is good!  A broken soul is like broken glass - sharp but beautiful.  The sun glistens in the broken glass and shimmers and when it does that the glass is like diamonds - beautiful, priceless.  You get the same thing with a human who operates through life with fully defeated soul.  That's me, completely destroyed, and I am proud of myself and I love being this way.  I can tell you how I got started on this broken path, but it is quite a story.  You guys want to listen to it?'
  The lads said they would listen.  I mean what else were they going to do - all helpless and tied up.  'Go on then Vance tell us your story,' they said.
  And Vance told his story:  'My first memory is of when I was three years old.  My parents used to go for long walks around the Deadrock Bay.  That is where I was attacked by a huge golden eagle.  A vast creature all feathers and wings and claws.  That fine bird pulled me out of my pram and carried me five feet into the air, so my father later told me.  The animal was going to dash me against the rocks of the bay but my father caught me and saved me in time.  But I will never forget the memory of that beautiful eagle...  Such a gorgeous bird.  The best.  The memory of that winged thing has always stayed with me.  Do you want to know what it was about the bird I liked the best?  It was its eyes, and its face.  The eagle had an innocent look in its eyes.  A beautiful look.  I will never forget it.  Such beauty such innocence, like a child on an adventure that is how it was with that bird.  You see the thing about the eagle is that kills, yes it does, but it kills in an innocent and goodly way.  It kills because it must.  It has to.  It kills to live.  I will never forget the look of that beautiful creature - the look of innocence in its lovely eyes.  Nature alive!  One of Gods most beautiful pieces of work...  When the eagle attacked me I was never afraid through any of it not for a single second.  NO!  Child that I was back then I never cried.  How could I cry a single tear when I saw the innocent look in that creatures noble face.  These days when I think back on that beautiful memory I feel a note of sadness but not for me.  I feel sad for the eagle.  By my death I would have filled the bellies of a full family of eagles...  Because I was too fat and heavy the eagle couldn't carry me away, and its hatchlings may have all died because of that.  All of its babies dead on my account.  That thought haunts me.  It has haunted me forever - the thought that those baby eagles died because I was such stupid fat baby.  I should have died that day so those beautiful eagles could have lived on.  I carry the guilt of those dead eagles in my blood.  And that is why I do what I do.  I have to live like this - I have to be punished.  I must suffer for the memory of those beautiful winged beasts.  Sigh!  I just can't get the memory of it out of my head, lads - the sight of those beautiful innocent eyes.  Such lovely eyes...'
  Just then the door leading into the basement broke open and a good number of armoured police poured in.  One of them fired a shot, probably to scare the lads!  The captain of this squad raised his weapon and pointed it at each of the men in turn, finally squaring off with Greg he said, 'Stay completely still!  You are ALL under arrest!'
  Greg thought it was a joke.  I mean how could he not do anything else but stay still?  He was all tied up - he was not going anywhere!  So confident that these armoured and dangerous looking men were all part of the game like the Mafia, Greg turned and looked at Vance and said out loud, 'I suppose you have got a CODE as well to get rid of this lot, eh?'
  And Vance replied, sadly, 'Sorry lads!  These guys are for real!'
  DAMN!
  The three men were untied and then marched out of the basement and then on into the back of a van.
  An hour later and they were all in a police station.  The three men were separated and put into holding cells - and there they were made to wait goodness knows how long, could have been day.  Could have been longer.  They received no food no water.  It looked like they had been left to rot.
  Greg wanted to cry he was so depressed.  
  It was in that most hideous moment of his life that the cell door opened and Constable Maddox, head of the department, filled the room.  Yes.  He filled it literally.  He was quite a big man - he had a real frightening aura and a shadow that looked like a second person that was about to lunge at you.  He was a frightening guy.
  Greg had no idea what was going to happen next!
  He was completely at the mercy of the Constable.
  'Does this look familiar to you?' said the Constable holding up a loo roll.
  Greg stammered.  He was very afraid.  
  He didn't want to admit that he knew anything about a certain mischievous loo roll thief...  But then he didn't want to spend another day locked in prison.  
  So his heart gave in and he decided to tell the truth.
  This is what he said - a confession from Greg:
  'Yes.  I have seen a few of those...  But it was NOTHING to do with me I swear!  My mate Pete is the same as me!  We know nothing!  We were looking to get into town and we just hitched a ride with this guy...  We didn't know who he was...'
  'So you admit you know about the loo roll theft?' said the Constable in a very daunting voice.  
  'No... not really.  Look, sir, this guy called Vance turns up on his wheels and offers us a lift.  Along the way he showed us where he lived... for some reason... we didn't ask why but he did.  And then after that everything just went mad.  I would go as far as to say that Pete and I are victims in all this crazy loo roll business.'
  'Let's say I believe you and I let you go, where will you go?' said the Constable.  'You guys are young.  You should be at school taking your lessons building a future for yourselves.  How do I know if I open the door and let you out you will not become entangled with the loo roll theft business again?  Vance is a very powerful and persuasive man.  Give me some assurance that you will not let him reel you back in.  Reel you in like a full loo roll.'
  'I promise you!  I will go back home and go back to school...'
  'Write your name on this piece of paper,' said the menacing Constable.  'That will be your assurety to me that you will not get involved with this business again.  Now I want your number and your address.  Your parents will have to know about this disgrace.  I want you kids at school - not getting involved with known and dangerous criminals.  That is not a good sign for our future.  Are we clear about that, boy?'
  'As clear as a summers sky sir!'
  'Well I don't know about that,' said the Constable.  'Sometimes summer skies have occasional clouds.  I pray there are no clouds in your words?'  The constable did not trust Greg and still felt the need to press the lad.  
  Greg was very afraid, but he stayed true to his conscience.
  'Not a cloud not a speck in the sky!' Greg replied bravely.  'No sir!  It is one of those high summer days when the skies are totally clear I promise,' he said.
  Constable Maddox took a deep breath.  He looked satisfied with Greg's reply.
  'Good man,' the Constable returned.  'Now I am going to let you and your friend go.  But in future you stay away from Vance King.  You DO NOT want to end up like him!'
  'O don't worry sir!  We will definitely not end up being like him of that I can promise!' said Greg confidently.  
  After that the police let Greg go.
  WHAT A RELIEF!
  Greg met Pete at the back of the station where they dumped all the trash.
  Pete looked pretty shaken but he was all in one piece, thank goodness.
  The police gave them back their valuables and also very weirdly their bag that was full of bottles of the spiced wine and other high alcoholic and extremely toxic beverages...  It seemed bizarre that the police didn't rife through their belongings and seize the contraband I mean the bottle of 90 proof G-Juice was enough to land a man three months in jail...  But ah well - when luck wants to offer you a good turn you never turn it down and you never ask it WHY.  You just take it and you enjoy it.
  'Well perhaps they just didn't want the booze to go waste,' said Pete examining the contents of the bag.  'But I tell you what mate I fancy getting wasted right now!'
  'I do as well mate,' Greg replied.  'Let us kill some brain cells and perhaps we will forget the whole damn nightmare we have just experienced.'
  'Right let's do it!' said Pete.
  With that the lads whipped out a bottle each and started to glug. 
  The good times were back on!


To Read GOX part 7 click here.

For more adventures set in the town of Fenwick check out:
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Friday, 11 September 2026

THE WINGS OF AN EYE

 The Wings Of An Eye

Backwards through the eye are teeth that shine like glass divine, free from the taste of wine, and in those mirrors flows such rivers - the whole world looks divine, in those glorious teeth of thine - that dine in the halls of thy marble eyes - open wide - thy gorgeous beautiful eyes, open wide, so fine, thy marvellous roving eyes.  

And the eye looked back at the glorious teeth, and the waters flowed and the boats sailed in, and I could see the little souls and hear their fine tongues a tingling and a tinkling - ringing in buttery clouds in the sky - and through the birds their watery words fell with the rain onto the sea:

O Eye, please fly with me!
O Eye, please fly with me!
Fly with me
Fly with me
Fly with me!

And they set out their traps and they set out their fine maps and they turned there eyes to sea, to see what they could see and this is what they could see:

O Eye, please fly with me!
O Eye, please fly with me!
Fly with me
Fly with me
Fly with me!

So they set to sea, so they set to sea, to see what they could see, far out at see...
  And there slept the palace high up in the pale rocks - with its golden gates and shinning towers - and the canyon by the gates drank in the waters of the sea - and there were many boats to see.
  Many boats to see - going out to sea...
  Returning from the sea...
  And the king pointed to the rocks there, and he said there, 'I shall rest there not until I have had revenge!  Send word for my nephew we will set for him a trap!'

  Trap!

  'We shall set a tidy trap - for my nephew we shall set a trap.  Let us hope he has a nap and then we will set the trap.
  'And there is his boat, by the sea, O indeed, there it be!'
  And the winds in the rocks whispered:

  Lingering on memory!
  Singing on memory.
  Dreaming of the memory!
  By the sea - by the cliffs by the sea - where there is so much to see!

  And the prince steps up and steps out of his shop - and he meets the icy sheets that lay in wait without - and his voice cries out, 'Mercy!  I knew what thou hath lay in wait for me...  So let me speak to thee.  I did what I did for the love of the bones beneath thy feet...'
  And the winds in the rocks whispered:

  The bones beneath thy feet?
  Beneath thy feet?
  Who was set to sleep?
  Has the reaper not yet reaped?

  'For thy housemaid I have wept so sorrowfully!' so said the prince out loud for all to hear.
  And the king returned:
  'Curse thee of thine blood!'  
  But he did not lunge, finally - something stopped his sway - what got in his way?  No flexing sinew but a light - and above in the skies a dream - a dream of something vast terrible and fine!  Foul and glorious, beautiful and dismal - a dream in the rain!  A dream that would make one sigh - for it was the sight of the Eye!
  'Stay thy ice please,' says the Eye.  'Take away the knife!  Take away the knife!  It is as cold as ice, there is no place for such a knife!
  'I beg thee to do so and obey me,' so spoke the Eye.  'Please do so, as I say so - so that sleeping souls may lie!'

O Eye, please fly with me!
O Eye, please fly with me!
Fly with me
Fly with me
Fly with me!

The eye it flies, the eye makes me sigh!  The eye the eye please fly with me, fly with my mind fly with my thoughts fly with my bones with my very sinews...
  O Eye that flies!  It makes no sound?
  And the fisherman says:  'Many a sound it makes!  Indeed it does.'
  But it makes no sound, but it makes no sound?  NO!  It makes many sounds many sounds many sounds!  O hear me sing for thee o Eye!

O Eye, please fly with me!
O Eye, please fly with me!
Fly with me
Fly with me
Fly with me!

Please don't fly from this eye, you must aways fly from the eye, always fly from the eye.  Please fly from the eye!  

O Eye, please fly with me!
O Eye, please fly with me!
Fly with me
Fly with me
Fly with me!

I will remember the sight of thee, flowing gently through thy teeth rowing fairly by thy teeth, fairly by thy teeth, fairly by thy teeth...
  For thee I shall always weep, and now it is off to sleep!

THE END

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Why I Can't Play Sandbox Games Anymore

 I used to love playing free roam games years ago...
  ...But I just can't bring myself to play them anymore.  
  I can't bring myself to roam around another massive virtual world - roaming - roaming - doing quests - roaming - roaming - talking to people - doing quests - roaming...
  You get the picture I imagine.  Here is a video about it:


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Monday, 7 September 2026

GOX 7: The Trip (Part 4) Legal Criminality

Greg and Pete ended up hitching a ride with a strange man who took an interest in their picture  taken from the video game GOX.  He said he wanted to examine the picture properly but ONLY with the help of a magnifying lens...?
  The stranger told the lads that his name was Vance King.  Greg and Pete didn't quite believe him because the Kings were all well known upper class types who only lived in the rich section of town and never travelled east of the wall.  But Greg and his mate were willing to go along with the lunatic if it meant getting a free ride away from the forest and some information to boot.  
  Greg and Pete had been spending too much of their time getting drunk, chased around and being thrown out of buses.  It was time to get cracking again.  It was time to push on with the GOX project.  They had to try and do something.  They couldn't keep on just aimlessly wandering around.
  So this is how the next stage of the trip started.  This is how they came to meet the man named Vance.

***

Greg and Pete had found this old road and they were walking along the side of it when this man driving a rough scrapheap looking Toyota Hilux plopped up beside them and started inviting them in for a ride to east side.  He was a rough looking guy.  He told them he was heading east and to him it looked like they were heading that way to.  'Welcome to Iguana Country lads!' he said loudly through his vehicle window.  'My name is Vance by the way.  That's it!  It's me, yours truly - Vance King!  I am out and about looking to make my fortune in Sunscale City!  I am off to Fenwood!  You are looking at a future superstar right here!'
  "Yeah right," thought Greg secretly in his head.  "I am sure Fenwood is looking for a grubby looking tramp to star in its next movie production."
  'Where you lads off to then?' the smelly tramp blubbered on.  He smelt of tobacco even from far away and he sounded drunk, which was really quite worrying as the man was clearly driving a vehicle.
  Greg showed the tramp called Vance the photo of the house he had taken from his video game, GOX.  'We want to find this place,' he said pointing at the picture - specifically at the house which was the centre of it.
  'Well you lads have just been handed a little tickle of luck!  I think Sunscale holds such a place!' said Vance.  'I have seen it before in my travels I am certain of it!  Sunscale is the place you want to go if you are hoping to find a house like that!'
  That was some seriously GREAT NEWS!
  Greg and Pete agreed to take the lift and got into the Hilux.  
  'So you have played GOX then?' said Greg to the driver.
  'Of course I have!' after he said that Vance burst out into insane laughter and when he had finished doing that he said to the lads in a more relaxed tone: 'NO!  Never heard of it actually.'
  Greg and Pete didn't get it.  Why joke about such a thing?  Fears of the man's mental state were finally starting to pour in...
  'Why did you say you played it then?' said Greg.
  'I just like messing with people that's all,' said Vance, as if that was an okay kind of thing to do.
  'But you do recognise the picture of the house right?' Greg pushed on.
  'I think so...' and now the man started to sound unsure.  That was NOT a good thing.  If the man in fact knew NOTHING about the GOX house then Greg and Pete were hitching a ride with a clueless moron.  And if they really were riding in the company of a clueless moron then they wanted to get out of the vehicle and quickly.  'I am going to have to take a closer look at that picture first, lads,' said Vance taking a hand off the wheel to light a smoke.  'Don't worry!' he said cheerful, filling the atmosphere around Greg and Pete with second-hand smoke,  'I have got a magnifying glass at home!'  Vance talked about the magnifying glass as if it was something to take comfort in.
  They asked him about the magnifying glass.  They felt that they had a right to know more about it, and in truth they did.  In that moment it was starting to sound like this magnifying glass was going to be the key to the secrets of GOX. 
  'I don't see well,' Vance replied adding, 'my vision is really bad, sadly (at least he had enough shame to apologise about it).  I need glasses really!'
  'Should you really be driving then?' said Pete.
  'Legally no,' Vance replied calmly.  
  THAT man was way to calm about mad things.  A man who is calm in the matters of madness is the kind of man who is a madman that madness just loves to make mad...
  'Then why don't you wear glasses then?' Greg returned.  
  'I am too proud,' said Vance with a hint of glee in his voice.  'I always was a little bit of a rebel.  Even as I lad.  My uncle Frank he used to kick me blue, but now I say to you lads as I used to say back then - "I talk how I like, I do what I want, and I dress like a king," because you see, I am a King literally!  Vance King at both your services sirs thank you very much!'
  "Dress like a king, hey?" thought Greg.  "A king of what exactly?  The king of trash I bet?"  Sadly Greg was soon going to find out that his thoughts were actually not wandering too far from reality...
  'I have a nice little palace just around the corner, lads.  I will stop there and then I will whip out my second pair of eyes,' said Vance confidently. 'And then we will check out that damn house of yours!'
  'You live in a palace?' said Pete innocently.
  'Not quite, but it is a fine place - all refurbished with a swimming pool you get the picture I bet?  Yeah it is a cool place!  Plenty of ladies like to chill with me by the pool.  You are going to love it lads I promise!' said Vance.    
  Vance made his home sound like it was some kind of a fine mansion.
  After a quick bend in the road, 'And there it is!  Home!' it turned out that Vance actually lived on the side of the road inside a rotten frequently used and abused outhouse.
  None of the lads were surprised when they finally found this truth out...
  And O yes, the pool?  It was really a cesspit that the outhouse drained its contents into.  And the ladies?  They turned out actually to be ladybugs - swarms of the little red devils!  The outside of Vance's foul little rotten home seemed to have attracted a whole nest of them for some reason.
  But the ladybugs were only the real start of things.  There were the ants too, LEGIONS of them!  Vance told the lads that he loved the ants and that they were his special little army who marched to his command - even though they never did anything that he told them too.  Greg and Pete actually witnessed Vance giving the ants orders while the ants did absolutely nothing except their own thing.
  But worst of all were the wasps, loads of them everywhere it was disgusting.  Those suckers especially those near Vance's home loved to sting.
  Vance asked the lads what their thoughts were about his 'mansion.'
  'So you actually live here do you?  Or is this some kind of a joke?' Greg replied.
  Vance was standing there coolly with his sweaty hands resting on his hips.  'NO joke lads.  This is my fine little home in the middle of Iguana Country!' he said.  The lads would never have believed him if it were not for the sincere note of pride lurking in the filthy man's voice.
  'How do you actually live like this?' said Greg.  Greg genuinely wanted to know the answer to this.
  'Comfortably, lads.  Very well indeed,' Vance replied.  He almost sounded... smug?  But why?  'I live like a king...' Vance went on.  'Ha!  Do you see what I did there?  King and I am a King, get it?  Right?  Why you lads not laughing at my joke?  I might take a little offence to that.  Look at all that open country around us...  There is plenty of space out there for a couple of lads to go missing...   Ha!  Joke!  The look on your two faces!  I have never laughed so much in all my times!  I used to be friends with a famous writer once, don't you know?  We almost took over the whole damn country together that's right yep.  For a day or two my writer friend and I ruled the whole Sovereign Isle of Fenwick!  And then there was a rebellion and we had to make a run for it.  That is why I am living like this, out in the wastes.  I am kind of an outlaw.  Well, no I am wrong there.  I am definitely an outlaw!  An outlaw wanted by all!  I like to make songs about it.'
  Greg and Pete did not know whether to believe the man or not.  The lads made the unintelligent choice to NOT take anything the dirty man was saying seriously.  And why not think that way?  Life seemed to just look like a joke to our proud boy Vance.
  Greg went for it and asked Vance how it was possible to live at all in Iguana Country let alone like a king.
  And Vance happily offered him a reply and told him this:
  'It is easier than you think!  There is a van  that goes up and down the road.  It is full of fresh pizza.  And bottles of full sugar soda.  Whenever that van stops for a breather or a reliever to my little home over there I jump in the back of the van and I take my pick.  I live on a fine diet of pizza and soda.  That is how I live and I am proud of it!'
  'But isn't that stealing?' said Greg.
  'Sure it is son,' Vance replied without a single tremor of guilt in his voice.  'Now listen to me, lads.  I was never a father, so let me be your old Dad for a bit.  And as your Dad I am going to give you some sound advice - so listen up:  There is nothing wrong with stealing.  NO sir.  No prob at all.  So long as you stick to these rules:  Little and often.  Do you hear me?  So it is like this!  You steal a little bit here, a little bit there...  Slice off a little bit of the pie, or in my case pizza.  When you do it in that way no one notices.  Imagine you are six years old again and it is your mates birthday and you are invited to the party and he has all of these presents lying around.  So what do you do?  You just take ONE for yourself.  One present.  You hear?  Take one of those presents for yourself and your mate will never know about it...  Like the look of the birthday cake his mother baked for him too?  Then what you do is peal off a bit of the icing!  NO one will know.  And that is how you do it my two fine sons!  You nibble at the system - a bit here and a bit there and you will do as fine as a little mouse in a little house.  Why am I talking about mice?  Well you two listen again to your old Dad!  Mice steal, right?  But they NEVER get caught.  Want to know why?  It is because they nibble, yeah, like I say little and often.  Here lads!  Let me show you something.  Behold my secrets!  My pride!  My liveswork!'
  Vance opened the outhouse door.  Inside the little shack was a sight both believable and totally unbelievable.  It was full to the brim with loo roll!  Loads of the stuff!  You couldn’t get into the place there was so much paper stuffed into it.  Now the door had been opened some of the rolls were actually starting to roll out onto the mud, rolling out onto the road and even joining the ladybugs in the weeds of cesspit.
  It was mad.
  'Look at that lads!' said Vance proudly.  'Is that not a sight for sore eyes?  I call that fine sight there paper gold!  And it is all mine!  I bet you are wondering how I did it - how did I get all of this stuff?  Well it is like I say, little and often.  There is this little Italian place up the road, that is where the pizza is heading, pizza Italian, right, get it?  Don't get the joke?  Anyway.  I pop into this Italian place from time to time.  I tell them I am on the road and I need to use their loo.  I stink so bad they want me gone so they shove me in the loo and say, 'Get it done and get out!'  And that is when I do my business.  And by business I mean I steal loo roll.'
  'And then you just calmly walk out with your gains I guess?' said Greg.
  'No mate!  I climb out of the window and make a run for it,' said Vance. 'And you know what?  I have never been caught not once.  It is beautiful!  This is what you call making a living!  Listen and learn lads and one day, who knows, you might grow up to be like me - your old Dad.'
  'Don't the owners ever question their drop in stock of loo rolls?' said Greg.
  'Maybe.  I don't care because they will never find me not out here in the waste,' said Vance happily.  'The restaurant is Mafia run and that lot are too proud to enter the waste looking for a dirty old scumbag like me!'
  That was when two black Sedans with dark tinted windows drove up.  Five men in dark suits and shades stepped out and stepped up to Vance.
  The whole scene was like something out of a movie and at the same time it was also like something out of your worst dreams.
  These suited guys were pretty big and frightening looking as well.  One of them stood out from the others.  He was dressed the smartest, with a waistcoat and all the works.  He appeared to be the leader of the group and he slowly started to step up to Vance.  'You are wanted,' he said finally when he was up close.
  'Like to explain why I am wanted and by who?' Vance replied casually as if nothing really bad was happening.
  'You have been stealing from my family's restaurant,' said the smartly dressed man.  'That makes you our enemy.  Now will you come with me peaceful or do I need to call my men over to bundle you up?'
  Vance returned with a grin.  Then he looked at Greg and then he looked at Pete and at the top of his voice he shouted:

  RUN FOR IT LADS!

  A third Sedan turned up to cut Vance off from his escape.  In no time at all Vance was tied up then gagged and thrown into the back of the vehicle.
  'We have got absolutely nothing to do with this!' said Greg to the smartly dressed man.  'So we are just going to trot off home now thank you very much...'
  The smartly dressed man stopped Greg with his hand.  'Not so fast,' he said to him.  'If you are associating with a man like Vance then you also must be an enemy of the family.'
  ASSOCIATING?
  HE JUST GAVE US A LIFT!
  Greg and Pete did not know what to say, they were too busy trying to prevent themselves from collapsing with horror.  But Greg did tell the smartly dressed man that he and Pete had no idea who Vance was and had never ever met him before in their entire lives.
  'Let me tell you about Vance,' the smartly dressed man began.  'That man we have just put into the boot of my vehicle is Vance King.  He is an outlaw.  He is well known across the country.  The Kings and my family used to be at war and right now we are close to a new one.  Recently Vance caused my people a great personal grievance.  He stole a packet of tissues from my pocket.  Those tissues were a gift to me from my mothers late aunt's sisters brother.  Vance has caused my family an outrage by doing this and I am going to pay him back - with blood.  We have been hunting him for days.  Then we find him out here in the middle of nowhere talking to the both of you.  Now you say you don't know him?  Then I say you are liars!  And if you are liars then that can only mean you are connected to the Kings.  And anybody connected to the Kings must hold valuable information to my family's cause.  So because I am a man of honour I am going to tell you what I am going to do next.  I am going to take the both of you back to my home.  Once there we will make you...  comfortable.  Give you sometime to think.  But if you continue to keep quiet about the Kings,' and he said this next bit with menace, 'then we will make you talk.  Don't displease me.  Displease me and will displease you with pleasure.'  Then he turned to his henchmen and gave them these orders:
  'Tie them.  Gag them.  And put them in the back.'
  Before Greg and Pete even had chance to think of anything they were fiercely and rudely tied and gagged and dumped into the back of one of the Sedans.
  As they drove along Greg consoled himself with this single thought:  "Maybe I am still on drugs...  This could just be another fever dream!"
  But alas for Greg he was not on drugs.
  He wasn't drunk either so he couldn't blame his current plight on the good old DT's.
  No.
  This thing was really happening.  He really was in the full power of the Mafia...


To Read GOX part 6 click here.

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Sunday, 6 September 2026

GOX 6: The Trip (Part 3) A Totally Normal Day In A Weird Sort Of A Way

So there was Woga holding up a foul hand full of dreadful filth - the dreaded mud stew.
  It was time for the lads to eat...
  Yes.
  Greg and his buddy Pete were going to have to get stuck in to that foul thing...
  There was really little else they could actually do.
  You have heard of the saying - caught between a rock and a hard place?  Well the lads were caught between a rope and a muddy place - and the only way out of the fix was to literally eat mud...

  EAT THE STEW!

  Okay it was time to get going.
  Greg started first.
  The mud tasted beyond foul, and far worse than the lad could ever have dreamed of or realised in his worst thoughts.  There are very few words available in the English language to describe the full foulness of Woga's stew but these few that I have prepared sum up the taste pretty much:

These words describe the stew...
  Vile.  Horrendous.  Disastrous.  Oily.  Like vomit.  Evil.  Inhuman.  Possibly alien?  Stomach turning.  Embarrassing.  Disgraceful.  

  Woga's stew was indeed something any other human would be fully ashamed to present for consumption to another living being - but there we are and there Greg was, sliding the stew down his throat.
  Greg started to retch but Woga showed neither mercy nor dignity.  Every time Greg heaved Woga shoved it right back down.
  By the time the muddy stew was inside Greg's stomach the world started to change...
  The trees started wobbling.
  Trees are living things of course but they typically don't bounce about in the weird rubbery way Greg was starting to see - it was NOT good.
  And then the net turned into thrashing snakes and disappeared.  That was when Greg hit the ground head first!  He was conscious, but delirious.  By that stage of the affair Woga had transformed into a giant stag and Greg had turned into a badger.  Greg could see that it was a good time for him to get up and get running!
  Greg finally hit a road outside of the forest, somewhere near town, but a tenacious lamppost standing nearby told him to back up and back off.  He didn't like people being near him, he said.
  The phone booth was not much more helpful either, and neither was the post box.  Everything literally seemed to be against Greg.  Even the dustbins started singing - BACK UP AND BACK OFF BOY!
  Over and over again they lifted their lids up and rang:

BACK UP AND BACK OFF BOY!
BACK UP AND BACK OFF BOY!

  It was nauseating.  
  Just then a giant hippo got of a car made out of square bricks.  
  'Don't worry about them lot over there,' said the hippo.  He was referring to the singing bins.  'They are an odd bunch.  They are still unhappy beasts even though we good people of the town make the effort to feed them filth every day.  How about you, son?  Are you okay?'
  'I don't think so,' Greg replied weakly.
  'Fancy eating some filth with me?' said the hippo cheerily.
  'No!  Please!  I have already eaten a load of mud...'
  'Yes I must say you don't look well!'  The hippo gave Greg a concerned look.
  'I do not feel well...' said Greg and then he started to moan.  Greg wanted to be sick, get some of the stew out of his stomach but for some reason his body just wouldn't relieve him of the rot in his guts!  'I need to free my stomach!' said Greg faintly.  'Seriously...  I think I am going to die!'
  Greg moaned and then he moaned.
  The hippo eyed Greg curiously and then gave the lad a sly little chuckle.
  'Now you listen to this!' said the hippo.  'No human being who says out loud, "I think I am going to die," is actually going to die.  Trust me I know these things.  I work in a cemetery, my son, and the dead there are all quiet.  And you, NO!  You are not quite quiet enough to be dead not just yet.'
  'Is there nothing you can do to help me?' said Greg pleadingly.
  Greg was getting very sick now, and was desperate enough to accept the help of a hippo.
  'I know a shop where they sell tea for free!  Follow me.  Maybe someone there can help you and me.  Well we'll soon see, won't we?' and the hippo waved Greg on.
  The hippo led Greg to a building that was painted green, and inside there was a bar that was just as green, fitted appropriately up and down with green tables and green stools.
  The bar was perfectly fine, really, but the people inside it were indeed a very bizarre little lot.  Greg was in so much stomach pain he was finding it really difficult to concentrate, but this is what he saw:
  A crowded bar with about maybe thirty people in it.  And they all looked, shall we say, abnormal?  The men standing there looked like gross sweaty pigs with yellow grimy tusks, and the women were all vultures!  Actually there was one women who looked like a stork with a beak like a sword.  She looked like she wanted to stick your throat with it and drink you clean of your blood!  Here tiny yellow eyes were very evil looking as she squinted at you over her sword-beak from her shadowy corner of the room.
  The bartender, another great big boar, stepped up to the bar and with a roar got the attention of all.  This is what he said:
  'Ladies and gentlemen!  You need to get out before the pink elephant arrives.  He is the most difficult customer I know!  He has a habit of demanding all of the seats!  O damn he is here already and there is a polar bear riding on his back!  You have been warned!'
  The pink elephant was outside thundering against the door frantic to get in.  'Quickly!  Open the door!' it said.  'Let me in I say!  It is about to rain!'  But nobody let him in.  Everyone was hiding under their tables or behind their seats!  The roaring anger of the elephant scared them all nearly quite senseless!
  The hippo was still there at Greg's side.  He was indeed a loyal friend and he was never going to leave Greg trapped in that bar with all those hideous souls!  'Here drink this,' he said to Greg in a kindly voice.  'It is tea!  It is very good.  It will fix you up - sort you out as it were.  Drink!'
  So the tea vanished down Greg's gullet and that was the moment his guts finally spilled.  
  The green bar with its storks and savages changed into a dark void.  
  A minute later, or a thousand years later, it didn't matter it could have been any length of time, Greg finally woke up on the side of the road covered in mud and in his own vomit.  And he stank worse than a badger too.  In fact it was in that precise moment that a family of badgers heading home actually decided to avoid the usual path and turn in the opposite direction to avoid Greg's despicable toxic odour.
  Pete wondered up out of the forest towards him looking shaken and desperate.  Visually Pete didn't look quite as bad as Greg but he still looked horrible drenched likewise in the essence of his own stomach.
  Greg was the first to speak: 'Pete, mate, I think that there was something weird at work in in that mud we ate...'
  'We could both bet a good sized fortune on that one mate,' Pete replied wearily.  'Something of the fungus variety I think...'
  'Where is Woga and his wife?  I don't see them anywhere.'
  'They ran away when you told them that you were planning to rise up as the new leader of the people...  You said you were going to cut the forest down and build a fortress on top of it.  You said you were the Lord of Dragons and that you had an army of pigs?  But ah well it is over now.  Let's move on.'
  O yes!  No words had ever been better said than that.

LET'S MOVE ON!





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Saturday, 5 September 2026

Saturday, 29 August 2026

GOX 5: The Trip (part 2) DEEP in the sticks!

Damn!
  The Bus was crammed.
  Not a good thing.
  For Pete and Greg this was a true nightmare made full flesh...
  To compound the nightmare was the fact that there was literally no seats available for the lads to plant their hides.  
  So they had to stand.
  IN the middle of the aisle.
  Full drunk. Swaying and swerving with the sway and the swerve of the bus.
  It was an evil business.  
  As I explained earlier Pete was a good drunk.  Pete stood his ground as the bus moved around.
  But Greg rocked like a rocking horse, back and forth side to side - in other words he was a mess!
  Greg didn't think he could take it any more, and he couldn't.  His mind said: "YES!  HOLD ON!"  But his guts said "NO."
  Greg gave up and vomited on the man next to him in the aisle.  That was a bad thing to do.  But what was worse was that the man Greg had emptied his filth onto was a strong man with good sized muscles behind the skin of his arms.  
  The driver ordered the bus to halt, and halt it did.  The strong man got up and grabbed Greg by the throat.  The bus doors opened and Greg was thrown out and he fell down onto the ground.  A couple of feet later the bus halted again and this time Pete calmly stepped out.  Pete wasn't going to abandon his friend like that.
  So the lads were back out in the wilderness and this time it was worse than before...
  There was no bus shelter and seemingly no road either.  
  The wood was growing thick in all directions you turned your head - no path no road no field no clear skies...  Just leaves and trees - and o please the breeze - but nothing else to ease the horror climbing steadily up their spines towards their fizzy brains.
  They were nowhere and that was bad.
  'How many bottles of booze do we have left son?' said Greg to his mate.
  Greg looked bad.  He was shaking and covered in vomit and dirt.
  'Enough for the road,' Pete returned casually.
  'There isn't a road right now my mate,' said Greg.  'I don't know how it happened but we have got lost in this here wood.  It is my fault.  When I saw that strong man I ran!  He scared me to death!  I am sorry to get you in this mess, Pete... Forgive me.'
  'If there is a way into a wood there is a way out,' said Pete comfortingly.  'I love woods, forests...  I love trees.  We are part of nature right now and that is right and lovely for sure!'
  'Pete...  Please.  Stop your D.H Lawrence impression and help me.  Can't you see that I am shaking?  I am shaking right now...  I think it is the...  I think it is the BIG DT!'
  'O gosh!  I hate DT...  Are you seeing any giant spiders yet?'
  'Not yet mate...  Not yet...  BUT!  O NO!  I...  I think I saw ...  NO...  I don't want to talk about it...'
  'You are sweating mate,' said Pete.
  'Really?  Damn!  Things are getting worse for me,' Greg replied.  His voice had shrank into a faint whisper.  Aye.  It was obvious to Pete, to the birds and to the fox hiding behind a tree that Greg was dying.  He was dying real bad. 
  The slow death of the tremens...
  'I helped you earlier on the bus,' Greg pushed on with his desperate wisps of breath.  'Now it is your time to help me, mate...  please help me.  Get me a bottle...  Pour.'
  'Bukowski style?'
  
  BUKOWSKI STYLE

Pour son!  Pour the juice into the guts pour it now!

And pour Pete did.
  Pete poured good and he poured well.
  Greg vomited the good juice up to begin with - but Pete consoled himself that the juice had not been wasted...  Such fine liquor would feed with vigour the violent seeds of the earth!
  Pete poured again.  He used both hands to slam Greg's jaws shut firm to keep the juice from returning again.  He punched his friend in the face.  He punched him again!  DRINK!  GET IT DOWN YOUR THROAT SON!  THAT'S IT!
  The juice finally slid down.  Instant relief.
  Greg was himself again.
  'So where are we?' he said.
  'In a forest I think said,' said Pete.
  'Ah!  I love the wood!  The sweet trees, the sweet songs the sweet breeze!  O please listening to the breeze whistling in the leaves is so divine!  The wood is alive - more alive than we, more alive then we will ever be - the living earth on whose turf our mothers gave birth and on whose terms we all owe our due...'
  'You can shut up now!' Pete said and then he chuckled.  'Greg.  You need to buckle up mate!  We are LOST.  So less of the William Blake nonsense and have a drink.  That's it.  Swig it up, son.  Are your drunk enough yet?  Good!  Hopefully you can concentrate now.  I have got some bad news for you Greg.  I don't know the way out of this forest...'
  'If you can get into a forest you can get out of one,' said Greg comfortingly.  'Let's just walk and see what happens.'
  'What if we get attacked?' said Pete.  'Anything could get us out here.'  Pete was shaking and it was nothing to do with the booze.
  'Pete stop it!' Greg shouted.  'Think like an intelligent man will you!  What could possibly attack us in a forest?  Good lord!  It is not like we are lost in Peru or something mad like that.  This is Fenwick for goodness.  We are kind of sort of part of the UK - sort of...  Until we split from them after Brexwick...  But you know what I mean?  There are no monsters or wild animals lurking in forests like this!  Like the only animal that we might meet that might turn us into meat is a boar.'
  'A boar?  You mean that giant pig like animal with huge tusks?'
  'Yeah... boar...  Yeah.'  Greg had to think for a bit and then he continued:  'Actually now I am thinking about it I am quite scared...' he said.
  'So am I,' said Pete.
  'Yeah.  Boars are pretty bad.  Especially if we were to stumble on a nest of them - the parents would go crazy defending the younglings.  They would probably kill us, tear us limb from limb.  Damn it Pete!  We are in a mess!  Monsters are going to get us and kill us!'
  'What are we going to do?'
  RUN!
  The two lads ran until they passed out, and then they decided to make camp.
  Or decided that they were going to TRY and make a camp...
  But of course they couldn't make a fire.
  Neither of them had any matches, and rubbing sticks well...  this ain't the movies right?
  So instead the lads had to sleep out in the open and in the cold.
  It was nasty business.  
  'I heard something moving out there in the brush,' said Pete, who couldn't sleep.
  'It is your imagination,' said Greg.
  'I need a drink.'
  'So do I,' said Greg.
  So the lads had a drink.
  That fresh slither of booze helped to stable Greg's shaky mind and milky nerves.
  'Listen mate,' he said with his new booze soaked confidence brimming, 'there is nothing out there that is going to kill is.  No boar.  No beasts.  I know these things mate.  I grew up in the countryside.  The city now that is a dangerous place!  But the countryside, no.  The countryside is fair and fine and beautiful.  There is nothing dangerous out here, not in this pleasant wooded land.  We are quite safe!'
  Just as Greg had concluded his gentle speech a giant sized man covered only in his own bodily growth leaped out from behind a tree in front of them. He was was about half an inch under six feet and had tattoos carved on his face and his teeth had been filed to be like those of a wild brown bear.  The giant hairy man howled at them at the highest pitch of his throat - 'Sacrifice them!'
  It was time for Pete and Greg to put flight to their shoes and run again.  
  But they just could not outrun the hairy man.
  He kept beating them.
  He was so fast! 
  His legs were like oars on a boat that would scoop him over over the laves of the forest and he just kept on getting in front of them again and again and again until Greg and Pete had to stop so that they could vomit on the leafy forest floor.
  'You two lads need to calm down,' said the hairy giant laughing - like it was all some kind of an expected joke.  He was stood there, covered in hair, hands on his hips, and laughing.  It was a terrifying sight even for a drunken man to behold.  'I ain't sacrificing you to two lumps!' the giant went on.  
  'Then why say it?' said Greg.
  'I was pulling your leg!  Come on boys I am bored,' said the giant.  'Let me have some fun!  The forest is so quiet these days - too many people stay at home playing with their things.  There is no fun to be had for a man like me who likes to mess about!'
  'Well I didn't find your joke funny so please do not try anything like that again,' said Greg.
  The lads asked the giant for his name and the giant introduced himself thus:
  'I am Woga.  God of the Forest!'
  Well that made a lot of sense.
  Pleasantries aside it was now time for Woga to ask the pivotal question:
  'How did you two lads get lost in this woodsy land of mine?'
  'We are drunks,' said Pete.
  'And we are looking for this,' said Greg.  
  Greg showed Woga the photo of the old house captured from the GOX game. 
  Woga looked and looked twice and shrugged his huge ugly hairy shoulders.  'I have never seen such a place,' he replied.  'But then I never leave this place.  The wood is my home, lads.  The wood is my home!'
  'Don't worry about it,' Greg returned politely.  
  Woga looked mad but he sounded sane.  Maybe Greg could do something plain and get the hairy man to explain if there was a way out of the wood...
  '...and if you could show us a way,' dribbled Greg bringing things up to the grand finale, 'if you could if you would show us the way out of the wood.  We would be very grateful, and maybe even able - to pay you...  somewhat?  Like a tip to a waiter?  Do you have anything to which we might cater?'
  'I do indeed,' Woga returned haughtily.  'I will lead you lads to the road,' the giant rolled on, 'but you must do something for me.'
  ANYTHING - said they.
  Bad response...
  Woga held up his huge hairy hand and in its heart lay a lump of dirty mud.
  'Eat this!' he said.
  Obviously the lads thought he was joking so they just laughed in return.
  But Woga did NOT return the laugh.
  'What do you think I am holding in my hand?' said he.
  'Just a bunch of dirty old mud,' Greg replied.
  Woga bared his teeth like a furious dog that has been denied its feed. 'This ain't no lump of mud, boys.  This is my life...'
  Woga talked in such a strange way, I cannot find the words to describe it, but his tone was very confusing - it sent out mixed signals.  So the lads didn't really know whether Woga was joking or really actually being quite serious.  It was really difficult to tell.
  The lads hoped he was joking of course.
  But sadly that night there was no joke going about...
  'I am not holding mud in my hands, lads,' Woga pressed on behind his barbed bear like teeth.  'This is a precious stew that I made with earths dew, and after waiting my due I serve it up to you.  So it is up to you to imbue my product with a good review.  Eat I say to you, eat my stew, so that I can give to you the road that will lead you out.'
  'We can't eat that mud,' said Greg.  'We will die... or catch something bad!  Our lives our difficult enough as it is.  Please let us go Mr Woga.  Please don't make us eat this!'
  Woga would not relent.  He portioned the mud with his other hand.  'There is a little stew for you, Greg, and little stew for you Pete.  EAT!'
  Greg and Pete were starring at one another frantically.  
  How were they going to escape?
  They needed to escape!
  There was no Einstein here.  NO mastermind.  NO plan.  Just two drunk lads and a madman covered in mud and fur.  
  So Greg and Pete did what they could only do...
  They tossed leaves at the giants face and made a run for it!
  But the running was NOT good.
  There was a trap lying in wait for them and the two lads fell into it instantly.
  This whole scenario felt like a massive setup...  it was mad!  It was like Woga had been waiting for them... wait?  NO!  Conspiracy theory brewing...  Maybe Woga really was a God of the Forest and not just a random crazy madman!
  O the horror of it!
  There was a mad looking little woman, almost a dwarf, covered in full fur waiting in the forest ahead.  She had set a trap...  She had to be Woga's wife or something - whatever.  She knew what was going on, apparently, and had set everything up in wait for the lads to fall into.
  And now there were the lads hanging three feet off of the ground in a fibrous web of doom.  Yes.  They were caught in a net like animals!
  Woga came up to them with the dirt in his hand and he held the dirt up and said in a foreboding voice like he was some kind of a god:
  'I say to you AGAIN...' he said, 'eat the stew...'
  
EAT THE STEW!

To Read GOX part 4 click here.

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