Showing posts with label contemplations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemplations. Show all posts

Saturday, 15 August 2026

GOX - the game that NO ONE has heard of & thus NEVER played!

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 I see you with my little eye...
  I see you.  Even when you are not there.  Seek me.  Dead though I be, I need thee.
  Feed me...
  I cannot live without thee.
  So I say again I need thee - do not let me live a forgotten memory of the dead...

For even dolls have eyes 👁👁
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Greg Parsons was playing his video game, King For A Day, and was bored to death.  He had been playing the game for a week and he just couldn't stand playing it anymore.  There is only so much one human being can take playing ONE game, the same game, over and over again!  
  MADNESS was setting in!
  Chucking the controller onto the floor:  'What an awful game this is!  A King For A day!  What a lot of rubbish!  The person who programmed it must have been a lousy idiot!  I just can't keep playing this rubbish.  I need a new game!'
  But that was the problem...
  Greg could not afford new games.
  He did not have a Saturday job or a paper-round to generate pocket money.  
  And his parents, well, they didn't have any money in general, only a small treasury stored for cigarettes and booze.

  Paper-round?  Working for that snivelling weird guy who run the minimart across the road?  
  Sod that!  

  Life was too short for that type of nonsense - wasting your life away moving your weight around for another human being?
  No way!
  Greg just wanted to play games...
  But he only had ONE game.
  O very well.
  Back to it then.
  Back to 'A King for a Day!'  Hooray!  
  'The guy who programmed this game must be a really stupid fool,' Greg moaned as he started firing the game up.  'Who would waste their life building a game about a king who died 700 years ago?  O well.  It's a game so I might as well try and enjoy it!'
  It's better than working for a living...
  Hehe!

  I just need to convince my parents that I do not need a job...   
  Maybe I will tell them I am sick?
  Maybe...  O wait!  I know what to say to them if they talk about me getting a job again - I will tell them that I am busy with school work and that I am planning on going to...  University!  That's right!  that's what I will say to them.  It should work, and keep ME out of work for a couple of years.
  Hehe!  I am such a pesky devil!  
  Now let us get back into the game...
I love playing games even if I hate the game I am playing.  
Anything beats talking to real people!

It was Sunday and it was time for another depressing and unwanted family meeting.
  O poor Greg hated those things whenever they (the family) popped up.
  His boomer father and even boomier grandfather just didn't get the modern way of things - it wasn't 1956 anymore.  Life was not about getting a job, getting a house, getting married having kids and dying.  NO.  WW2 ended in 45.  Those days were done.  Over with!  This was 2026.  This was the new age.  And the new age had a new way of doing things.
  Life on 2026 was about...
  ...Playing video games - arguing with people you have never met before online in some forum somewhere - O yeah and it was also about getting AI to do things for you, like your homework etc...  
  Greg couldn't understand why AI hadn't take over the world already.
  
Let it happen!
Give me a game console, a place to live and a universal income any day!
Bring in the new world order!
Yes!
Then I won't have to go back to school again...

'You need to get yourself a weekend job, boy,' said Greg's grandfather.  'Why at your age I had two jobs and three babies from three different women to raise.  I had to roll up my sleeves!  No lounging around for me no taking it easy no sir!'

Well that was your decision to get three women pregnant, you stupid idiot.
My decision is to play video games - so suck it up!  Boomier boomer!

'I had children to feed!' the grandfather went on wearily.  'Damn you Greg!  You don't known you were born!  Do you know what life was like for me and my family after the war?  I saw it all, boy.  The town was a ruin!  You had to fight to find food.  You had to fight to live.  That was the world I was born in, and it was even harder in my Dad's day let me tell you!'

O!  Here we go.  Another lecture about the hard old days.  Grandfather and great grandfather and the war...
  Like I really care...
  The only war I care about is the one going on right now in my video game...  At least in my video game wars nobody gets hurt.

'Your Great Grandfather, my Dad, was a member of the resistance...'

O really?  Like you haven't already told me a 1000 1000 times!
  Damn it!  Just stop already!  

'You need to buckle up boy,' grandfather rolled on.  'There is an old saying that is as true as apples grow on trees...  what goes round comes round... it is a true saying.  So you watch yourself!  There will be another war one day and it will be you who is the one fighting in it.  You need to man up, do you hear me boy?'
  
Man up?  Right!  Sure.  Now that nightmare family meeting is over, again, it's time to head back to the bedroom and back to the game...

Greg only had one video game.  And mirroring this sad fact he only had one mate as well and he was fat guy named Pete.  
  
For Pete's sake where's Pete!?

'Ah!  There he is!  What have you got me for me today Pete?'
  'Alright mate!  Sorry mate I have only been able to rumble these few games...' said Pete in his weary sloshy gushy voice.
  Pete was a big fool!
  All he did was sit and play games.  And indeed he looked like the man who did just that - because he was indeed just so fat!  
  Pete handed Greg a box with his blubbery sweaty hands.
  'You will find lots of good stuff in that box mate,' he said.  
  Greg fished through the box like a desperate man and he was so disappointed of what he found in it he groaned like a hungry man denied a meal.
  'No Pete!' Greg whined.  'These are copies of the same game...  look!  That's paperboy!  You have got four copies of paperboy!'
  Greg always hated the paperboy game because his parents were always threatening him to get a job as a paperboy...  'Yuck!  I don't want that rubbish!'  Greg always resisted getting a paperround!  'Look Pete we play games to escape reality right?  Do you really think I want four copies of a game about a thing that my parents are nearly forcing me to do in real life?  You know what the answer is Pete.  The answer is NO!  You have got to have more games I can play?  This can't be it!  You are the biggest gamer in town, literally and metaphorically.  I bet you are hogging some of the best games out there and you are just not sharing them with me!  And you call yourself a mate!'
  'Those are not copies of paperboy,' said Pete.  'They are different versions.  See?  In version two you get to get to run the policeman over with your bicycle.  It's a laugh!'
  'That is not the point, Pete!  For goodness sake.  I just don't want to play a game where I am playing a paperboy!  Do you know how much pressure my parents put on me to get a paper round?' said Greg.  'The pressure is daily Pete.  And you giving me these games it is like you are trying to torture me!  I thought you said you were going to get that new one for me - Car Escape?  I want to play Car Escape!  Lend it to me now!'
  'I can't!'
  'Thanks mate...  You are such a good mate!' said Greg sarcastically.  
  Greg was so disappointed.
  Pete pushed in with his excuses:
  'I don't have it yet!' he said.  'Look I will buy the game and once I am done with it I will lend it to you.  I promise!  Keep the box!  There are other games in it.'
  'Right I am sick of the sight of you Pete!  I will keep the box but I need you to get out of my room!  I will speak to you tomorrow if I feel like it.'

Greg grew bored enough to take a another look in the box.
  There was a plastic card in the box.  On the front of it in pencil were sketched in capitals these following letters:

GOX

  Those letters didn't mean anything to Greg.
  If it was a game Greg had never heard of it before.
  Well anyway it wasn't paperboy so Greg plugged the card in and started playing.
  GOX - can you complete it?
  He was greeted with this dull uninviting screen:
  

What is this?
  Couldn't be a game.  No way!
  Anway.
  Greg was bored so he clicked begin.
  And then GOX started.
  It was a bunch of objects slowly floating about.  Greg clicked them and kept clicking them.
  Clicking and clicking!
  Gosh was it ever boring.
  Greg wanted to turning the wretched thing off and paradoxically didn't want to turn it off.
  Why did he not end the boring experience?
  Because Greg was many things but he was also a curious fellow, quite inquisitive, a man driven by logic and he could not accept that a game, no mater how silly the name, could be utterly POINTLESS.  
  NO.
  Nobody would ever waste their life essence making a pointless game.  
  There had to be a meaning to GOX.  There had to be a point to it.
  THERE HAD TO.
  An so Greg clicked on.
  And clicked on.
  And on.
  And on.
  And his head started to nod - he was feeling sleepy.  His lids started drooping.  His fingers were still clicking but it was three in the morning and he was an automaton at that time.  
  His eyes lids shut for what - maybe half a second?
  Yes, not long but indeed long enough for him to miss something...
  DAMN!  He cursed himself.
  The GOX clicking game stopped and an image appeared on the screen...
  But Greg the idiot had fallen asleep in time to just miss it, and yet also see it long enough to remember it when he awoke again.
  It was back to the clicking game again but Greg could remember seeing an image on the screen for a split second - not for long BUT it was there!
  
I saw something I know I did!
  
  Back to it then.
  Back to the clicking.
  And then it was FOUR in the morning...
  Even though he had nothing to do that day (or any other day really) Greg still needed to sleep...
  
I will sleep and find that image again tomorrow!

  Greg went to bed content.  He was looking forward to a new day!  Good gosh he had not felt such a way not since he had been an eight year old waiting for Christmas!
  THIS WAS IT!
  He finally had a mission!
  GOX was boring horrible and dumb - but there was something else weird going on behind the game...
  There was that image that appeared for a fraction of a few seconds...  something weird was in that image, something unique, and Greg was going to find it again.  He was going to solve the riddle of the game...
  


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Friday, 14 August 2026

Bear In The Night.

Welcome to the laboratory!

Let the fun begin...

We have two fun characters to begin with let me give you their names:

Pete

Sendrick

AND SO WE BEGIN...

Pete:  Ah you have returned!  Welcome back old friend!  You will be pleased to know that the experiment is over - thank goodness.  Are you ready to start our observations?

Sendrick:  Isn't that what I am programmed to do?  Ha!  Just joking.  Of course I am ready.  I am looking forward to it!  How are you by the way?

Pete:  O!  You know me!  Same old - same old.  Ah!  Same old songs, same old films...  same old games - I used to love all of that stuff!  Such a shame I can't dance anymore - shame I can't hear music either.  But ah well!  At least I am still breathing, hey, that is the main thing or so people keep on telling me.  I envy you, Sendrick!  You can turn yourself off.  But ah well!  Maybe with time I will enjoy the luxury of gloom.  Ha!  Gloom in a room!  Ah well.  Such is...  such is...  Anyway.  Here is our boy the TEST!  (looking at TEST who enters the room)  I forget your name, we get so many souls in here, so I am just going to call you TEST.  How are you feeling TEST?

TEST:  (stammering - shacking)  I...  I don't know...

Pete:  Can you see me?  Can you hear my voice?  Good!  Then let us start.  Did you follow through with what you had to do?

TEST:  Yes...

Pete:  How do you feel now that the deed has been done?

TEST:  I...  I...

Pete:  Speak!

TEST:  I am afraid...

Pete:  Come on you coward!  We gave you the once in a lifetime opportunity to rid the world forever of one man.  Just one man!  We gave you permission.  You wanted to do it.  You asked for this.  Now it is done.  It is over with no consequence on you.  You should be relieved.  You told us yourself you hated the man!  You told us the story you told us that he made your life a living hell.  Well now by your hand he is gone.  You did this.  You got the job done.  Now you are free.  He will not be bothering you ever again.  Now you are crying?  I can see tears in your eyes...  I don't understand you.  You should be happy?  Why aren't you happy?  Speak!  Your reaction makes no sense.  Sendrick make notes...  TESTS reactions make NO sense!

Sendrick:  Make notes sir.

TEST:  I...  I am ashamed.  I put the metal...  in his mouth...  his teeth popped out everywhere.  He screamed.  I wanted to stop.  But he would not stop screaming.  I had to hit him to stop him from screaming.  With time he went quiet and then I stopped.  After that there was no more screaming.

Pete:  And now how do you feel?

TEST:  I feel like screaming!

Pete:  You can go!

(TEST leaves the scene)

Pete:  Step up Sendrick!  It is now time for you to do what you have been programmed to do!  I need you to follow him.  Watch him...  Return when you have new information.

(Sendrick nods and leaves.  He returns three days later.  He has information).

Sendick:  I followed him.  I watched him.

Pete:  So? How was he? How did he behave after the experiment?

Sendrick:  Well!  I will start by saying this:

I saw him walk in the streets,
Like a bear in the night,
Like a bear in the night.
There was something swift that moved in his feet,
Like a bear in the night 
Like a bear in the night.
He just seemed to move with glee,
Like a bear in the night 
Like a bear in the night.
He didn't need no company,
Like a bear in the night 
Like a bear in the night.
I saw his hands and they were red,
Like a bear in the night 
Like a bear in the night.
He had a look that looked quite dead,

Sure he was dead,
Sure he was dead.
Roses are red, passions are dead.


Bloody red hand and tooth came into sight,
Like a bear in the night 
Like a bear in the night.
It really was quite an ugly sight...

LIKE A BEAR IN THE NIGHT! 
LIKE A BEAR IN THE NIGHT!

Was the experiment a success or not?  It is up to YOU to decide the answer!

THE END

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Tuesday, 11 August 2026

Glorious Defeat

 I remember the lights.
  There they are again - what thing:

Swirling like a dream, o yes, like a summer beam, in the trees shimmer please, let the birds please with songs so sweet... sweet songs sing of things done and forever done - things that will forever be - within and without, forever without doubt.

  I saw the lights dancing around the figures, the figures were like little shadows from where I was, but I saw the lights, yes indeed I did I saw the lights, dancing around them I declare the lights were swirling with joy around the figures.
  Such joy!
  And then I heard the music - I saw it in their faces just as clear as I saw the wind in their hair, I do declare, I saw the wind in their hair.  Add I heard the music, sweet in the air, and the light was dancing with it, and the figures were no longer shadows, but little faces, I do declare, little faces with wind in their hair with little faces full of colour like the colour that was dancing in the air.
  
The Sargent looked up and shouted, 'What are you doing sitting on the roof?'
  I told him I liked the view, what about you?
  He shouted nonsense.  
  I didn't listen.  
  Eventually I climbed down to stop his bellowing from echoing in my ears.
  'Listen up you!' shouted he.  
  'I am listening,' said I.
  The Sargent had this cluster of words for me to listen to:
  'I have a job for you to do,' he started.  'Look down the hill.  See the houses?  The enemy might be there.  BUT we don't know.  So fire it up!  That's your orders.  Remember what you are fighting for!  You are fighting for liberty.  Now get out there and get on with it!'
  Standing to attention I replied, 'I will do it!  I will do it for freedom!'
  And together our voices echoed in union like we were together in prayer - for freedom!  We sang the word right into the air!
  'I will do it for freedom,' said I.
  'Good man,' said the Sargent and we soluted.

  FOR FREEDOM.
  
  For freedom yes.  It was our cause.
  So I stepped up and did what I had to do, and I blasted my fires right into the view.

FOR LIBERTY.

  I returned to the roof.  What a view what a view!

  And then there were the lights and the dancers,
Still the little dancers with their little faces with the wind in their hair,
I do declare the wind was in their hair.
And all the colours as well,
Were there in the air,
 So many colours.
  And I heard the music and I saw the music in the lights,
 The same lights I saw sparkling around the dancers,
 The dancers with the little faces,
The faces where the wind,
 - the wind - 
O yes it was still dancing the fair air,
 Yes,
 It was still dancing
 - I do declare - 
It was still dancing in their hair...

THE END

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Saturday, 8 August 2026

If Streets Could Please

 If streets could please, then please with ease, say yes.  I would be pleased to be pleased by the streets...
  But not yet.

Clippety Clop

Hear that sound?

CLIP CLOP

Whose around?
  O.
  Just me and my thoughts.
  Better not linger.
  I have had my drink of vinegar so it's on with the boots and the coat and out into the race.  Better quicken my pace, time to face what I have to face.  
  Onwards and onwards.
  It was late.
  The city was looking pretty - a desert bathed in dreams.  Its dreams were all crumbling stone and tangled wire kissed by the moon.  A forest of desire warped by work and dying quickly with the slow and meaningless caress of entropy.
  I like to walk at night - out of sight.
  It was my way.
  No one to get in the way...
  Except a friend or two...

CLIP CLOP

The night was the place for me to meet the people I actually liked.  
  So I turned a corner, following the ways of the dreaming desert.
  And there was a shop home to dirt and memories.  
  And old Richard Banks, or just Rich for short.  He would have invited me in if he needed to.  I closed the door and sat on the stool.  He offered me a glass of vinegar while eating his rice.
  'Fine night for the moon,' said he.  'The old dream is looking fine tonight.  I am glad to have these old walls behind and around me.  Some of the homeless lads used a table they had stolen to ram a shop open a little ways down the road.  Stole all the bread and beer!'
  I heard his story out and chuckled grimly.
  'Or they could just walk in through the door like me,' said I in the darkest voice I could muster.
  'O I.  And steal what exactly?'  Rich chuckled in return.  'Anyway.  Want some rice?'
  I told him I liked to keep my stomach clear - silent guts kept things in shape for the vinegar to  do its thing better.  'I will have a smoke though if you are offering.'
  'Got work tomorrow?'
  'Never do,' said I.
  'Six hours till the sun beats the moon down!'
  'I don't care about that,' said I.  'I always sleep when the sun is up.  I haven't seen her glowing corpulent globe in years.  Not since I lost the job at the docks - since then its been Joy paper and vinegar for me!  And let me tell you Joy has swallowed a lot of paper lately, and I have certainly been swallowing a lot of vinegar too.'
  'Ah!  I walked passed your place two days ago, I think it was.  So that is what you were doing?  I heard a violent sound - the sound of thundering and drumming,' said Rich.
  'My fingers are forever bleeding,' I replied.  'My plan was to write my way out of the dream.  But now I write because I have to - the vinegar would eat my mind if my bloody fingers did not go beat beat beat all night through.'
  'How is the work going?'
  'Been writing about an odd thing - something that has been happening to me lately.  I don't know if it is a dream or not - even though I do dream a lot.  I blame the vinegar for that,' said I.  'I woke up once in the scorching heat of the sun sweating like an old soldier marching to war.  Felt as weary as one too!'
  'You told me you had never seen her corpulent face not since the dock days?' said Rich pointing out my folly.
  I chuckled and juggled the stones in my belly with a glass of vinegar.  'I felt her anger that's all - my blinds were drawn.  Nightmares are worse when you have them during the day, when you wake up in all the heat - when you hear the folks in the streets and kids playing and the dogs howling...  O the noise!  The noise.  The heat.  What a stew!  Make for the most potent nightmares what say you?'  
  'Don't drink vinegar.  That is what I say to you.  So you are writing about your nightmares then?'
  'I think so.'
  'You either know or not.  You can't have it both ways.'
  
CLIP CLOP

  'One nightmare in particular,' said I.  'A true nightmare.  A horse.  It walks the streets and watches me as I sleep.  A horse.'
  'Sounds pretty darn creepy to me,' Rich replied.  'Maybe you should get some sleep.'
  'If only I could!  But sleep is for the mellow man.  The vinegared man can never sleep - he can only dream and then dream of nightmares.  Thanks for the drink.  Good day to you Rich.'

CLIP CLOP

I spent the rest of that night spilling more blood on the keys.
  And before the corpulent orb could show her glowing face I dived under the sheets.
  All day I could not sleep.
  It's eyes were watching me...
  It was the horse!
  At night I tried to write about it again, but the words would not step up.
  There was no vinegar - all empty bottles about the feet of my bed.
  So I chose instead to take out my coat, and my boats, and my old halloween mask...
  The mask of a horse.
  And dressed in such a way I crossed the broken dream of man till I reached the shop of Richard Banks, and I walked right in on him and he leapt from his chair screaming, throwing his drink and his rice into the air!
  'Gave you I fright did I Rich?  Like how I am dressed?  Like my face?' said I to the frightened man cowering behind the counter.  'Ha!  And to think I did all of that without being drunk!'
  I took off the mask and laughed at him.
  The wonders of sobriety!
  Indeed my life must be improving!
  That night I was a better man.

If streets could please then say yes o please, with ease, let them please.


(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)


For more adventures set in the town of Fenwick check out:
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Friday, 7 August 2026

How a seal ended up serving at His Majesty's pleasure

 This is a normal story about a normal seal and how he ended up being detained at his Majesty's pleasure...

There was once a seal who lived down by the coast - a great big cheery lump of blubber named affectionately by the locals Bill - because Bill rhymes with seal...  see?
  Bill was a hopeless feckless bungling creature, forever rolling around, blocking roads and breaking fences.  A true nightmare!  But everyone loved him because he was extremely entertaining to have around.  He would make strange barking sounds and was very clever at playing little pieces of music with a whistle that he had recovered one day while far out at sea.
  Bill was having a good time of it, enjoying a rather nice life - jumping about and whistling tunes.  Things could have gone on like that forever, until the day came he met the wandering Frenchman Jean de Orléans.  
  Now if you thought Bill was an odd character with his whistle and bungling blubbery ways well let me tell you the seal had nothing and I mean NOTHING on Jean.
  Jean was an absolute madman - a rollicking and rambling lunatic.  A deeply unpopular character.  Jean was spend all day making a pest of himself, harassing random people and getting into brawls with the local lads.
  Jean was also a drunk to boot...  People would often find him wobbling about with a half empty bottle of wine in his hand!  His drunkenness only enhanced his unpopularity further.  
  There is this one story that tells of Jean wandering around the beach one day when he found a couple sunbathing on the sand.  Jean walked right over and started emptying his dirty soggy boots all mover them explaining - 'Don't worry!  Tis only water!  And there is plenty of that around as you can plainly see!'
  The couple were furious, and immediately made a complaint to the police.
  The curious incident of the soggy boot got our boy Jean a few days locked up at his Majesty's pleasure, and made him a great enemy of Constable Maddox's, the fierce head of the police department, who always had his eye on the drunken Frenchman:
  'I know you Jean!' said Maddox one day while out on patrol - Jean had been up to his old tricks chasing people around with soggy fish he had plucked out of the sea!  'You are a menace to society!' the constable went on.  'If I could find a way of getting you permanently locked up...  O if only!'
  Jean responded by taking off his boot and throwing a wet sock at the Constable!
  The Constable gave chase but Jean just giggled and ran away!
  Old rascal - he had a hiding place, you see!  Down by the sea there was a cave and whenever Jean was in that cave the police could never find him (because they never ever thought to look there...  for some bizarre reason.  It was the ONLY place they never looked, and maybe, just MAYBE might be the place where he might be hiding - but ah o well).
  Each day when in his cave Jean would prepare all of his tricks ready for a fresh spring of harassment!  He would bathe his socks in the sea water so they were nice and soggy ready to be thrown at people!  And he would collect fish and crabs because he liked to put them in peoples pockets when they were not looking...
  This might all sound rather strange but it was just Jean's way!
  And then one day our boy Jean, while out looking for crabs, stumbled upon the lump of blubber named Bill!
  Bill looked Jean up and down and started barking at him.
  Jean clapped his sides and exclaimed:
  'My gosh!  Dear seal!  I understand what you are saying!  I can understand your language!  What a blessing hey?'
  'Really?' said Bill.  'Well isn't that nice!'
  Jean asked for the seals name and the seal gave it over freely and fully.
  'Bill the seal hey?' said Jean curiously.  'It is good to be in the company of a fine beast like you.  A beast who can understand me!'
  'Indeed,' Bill replied.  'We are both damp and sea washed - yes!  We have a lot in common plainly.'
  Jean asked the seal if he liked to drink wine.  The seal said no that he did not.  Jean responded to this by making a strange O shape with his lips.  Jean then asked the seal if he liked to smoke:  'I have a smoke for you if you would like to have one.'
  Bill explained that he had never smoked anything before.
  Jean patted Bill firmly on the head and said, 'You are a wise fellow!  Now I have a plan!  I want you to put on this old scarf and hat I have here.  My mother knitted them back in the day!  That's right!  Put them on there's a good fellow!  Ah yes!  You look good dressed in that.  Now we are going to go on a mission...  We are going to tackle as many people as possible today!  My plan is to move along the breadth of the beach.  Now listen up, Bill my son...  we might get into trouble with the police for what we are about to do.  If we do get into trouble I want you to tell anyone who asks that you are my son and the heir to my estate - my worldly possessions that collectively equate to a couple of shells, this old boot, this here pipe, this bottle of wine and yes - this old crab as well.  I want you to have them - because you are my son!'
  'Yes!  I am your son.  Thank you father for these wonderful things I will treasure them when the time comes,' Bill the seal yelped happily.
  'Good man,' Jean replied.  'Right!  To business then!  Let's get out there and frighten some people!'
  The Frenchman and the seal set out on a right rowdy rampage!  
  They chased people here.  They chased people there.
  Outside one of the locals pubs there was a couple of people in suits sat to a table having a business meeting.  Jean just rolled up to them and put his dirty wet old boot on their table!
  It was a lot of fun doing that but sadly it was the last straw for the mischievous duo.  The one lady sitting at the table got up and cracked Jean out with a good hard clean slap to the face!  
  She addressed the two rascals:
  'You two are a disgrace,' she said.  She was talking to Bill as well.  She actually thought the seal was a human being dressed in his delightful scarf and hat!  So she pointed a finger accusingly at the seal and said, 'I have never been so offended in all my days!  I am outraged and I will not stand for it!' 
  The woman pulled out her phone and made a little tinkle to the police.
  It wasn't long before Constable Maddox turned up with his boys.
  Maddox was ecstatic!  He finally had the chance he had always been looking for to lock up Jean for good...  
  'And you are not getting away with it either!' Maddox said to Bill the seal.  'You two are going to be locked up for a decent length of time!'
  And that is how Bill the seal ended up in prison!  
  Bill served five months before he was finally released but our poor boy Jean didn't make it.  NO.  Sadly Jean died in that prison.
  When he was free Bill returned to Jeans cave to enjoy his inheritance.  
  'I shall look after your legacy Jean,' said Bill.  'Your dirty old soggy boots will be safe with me!  I shan't forget you you crazy old dog!  You were the best friend I ever had!'

But for now I will bid you adieu as the memory of you still lives between the stars and the seas...


(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)


For more adventures set in the town of Fenwick check out:
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Sunday, 26 July 2026

A Clown Is About So Watch OUT!

The Last Clown in Town

I shall tell you of Bollow the Blue Clown:

Bollo had a full set of blue hair.
  He dyed it daily.
  Because you see...
  Bollo was a clown!
  And a successful one!
  Back in the 90s, that was Bollo's heyday, the clown was generally well liked, he had plenty of friends and fans and Bollo would rock up to parties on his one-wheeled unicycle, juggling his clubs and pins and tickling people with his jokes.
  So people young and old thought he was great and Bollo was having a generally good time of it - until the winter of 2002.  It was in that year Bollo met and eventually married a strange witch-like women.  Many believed she had woven some kind of cruel spell over the clown, but after the marriage Bollo was never the same man again...
  Never again...
  Bollo the blue clown was literally gone - the laughter, the joker, all a memory...
  Poor Bollo.
  After nine years his strange witch-like wife divorced Bollo clean.  She took his house and all of his money.  She took away his beloved unicycle threw it out to the trash - hell!  She even took his dignity.
  And that should of been that for Bollo - BUT the Blue clown kept trucking on like a true hero - but his reputation as a fun loving soul was in the dirt...  That marriage had broken him!
  These days the clown could still be found performing tricks, but time and age had found a way to steal most of Bollo's clownish charm that had made him popular back in the 90s...  People in town grew to dislike Bollo very deeply - some even started to consider him a menace.  
  Bollo hung around pubs, you see.  He lived on the streets where he begged for drinks, waiting and hoping for some charitable soul to take him in and give him a roof for a night or two. 
  Bollo grew a reputation as a dirty drunk, some would say Bollo was an outright degenerate, and Bollo had adopted a very annoying habit of spraying water on people and later apologising about it saying he had confused them for a window.  Those kind of old-school tricks might have worked well with the kids during a birthday party back in the day but fully grown professional adults did not appreciate being randomly sprayed with water in the streets.  One man, who was actually the exchequer for the local council, was so angry at being sprayed in the face with water that he had Bollo arrested and Bollo spent a full solid week in prison.
  When Bollo was released from prison he was utterly spent.
  And that was when he met Jon Kent.
  Kent found Bollo sitting outside the local drinking house - the Short Tailed Fox.  The clown was sitting near a table, one foot up on a stool, a dirty stinking smoke hanging out over his blue lips and beside him tin of a beer gripped by a quivering nervous hand.
  Yes!  That was him.  That was the clown.
  Bollo was a man who was fully broken and yet somehow he was better for it.  He was a man who accepted his own defeat.  He didn't fight it.  He just knew what he was...  or more precisely what he wasn't.  And Kent saw this right away and respected the clown for it.
  Kent introduced himself right away, throwing his name out and after that his hand.  The two men shook and sat and ordered drinks.  Bollo offered Kent a smoke, and Kent accepted - he slipped one out and started puffing on it with the eagerness of a cat with a tin of cream.
  'It is good to see you alive and well, Bollo,' said Kent puffing out a full sized cloud of grey smoke and blowing it over in the direction of the broken and derelict clown.  'I remember watching you as a kid back in the day, with all those tricks you used to do!  I used to love watching you.  Especially when you started spraying us with all that water and then apologising afterwards, telling us you thought we were a bunch of dirty windows!'
  'That is my favourite trick,' Bollo replied, and then the clown fell solemn.  'But people these days are so serious...  They don't enjoy my tricks not anymore.  I sprayed a man in the face the other week.  It was only water.  I explained I thought he was a window in need of a good darn cleaning - that I was just doing my duty as a citizen of the town keeping the place tidy and all that.  Well this man had been locked up for a whole week!'
  'Damn!  That's rough!  So you actually went to prison?'
  'Yep!  Locked up with the lads!  They gave me a hell of a time inside there.  This one lad told me I used to bully him at school, though I can't remember it I told him he had confused me with another clown...'
  'O!  Maybe it was Billy the Green Clown?' said Kent.
  'That's the one I am sure,' Bollo returned.  'I said to this lad, I told him, it was Billy the Green Clown who used to bully him.  But this lad wouldn't listen to me no sir.  Instead he flushed my head down a toilet.  And then after that he tied me up by my legs and beat me freely.'
  'Damn you have had it rough!  It ain't right, Bollo.  You are a good man!  You deserve a break.'
  'All I wanted was to have some fun in my life,' Bollo replied weakly.  'I just like spraying people with water!  What's wrong with that?'
  'Nothing wrong with it at all, my son,' said Kent.  'You should be allowed to do what you do.'
  Bollo lit another dirty smoke...   'At the end of the day I am not bothering people.  I just like cleaning windows!  Ah wait!  There is another window over there.  Better get to work...'  
  A very posh looking business lady holding a briefcase was walking down the road.  She was returning home from work.  As Soon as Bollo saw her he jumped up and ran right over.  When he finally got within range of the women the clown started spraying her with water.  The business lady responded by kicking Bollo fully in the crotch before stalking away raising her phone to her ear possibly making a little tinkle to the police.
  It would take twenty minutes for Bollo to recover from this incident.
  Kent had to help the clown climb back into his chair.
  'You see that?  You see what she did to me?  This is what I am talking about.  I try to do a good deed and that is how I get repaid,' said Bollo sadly.  'Why can't I be left to clean windows in peace?' 
  'I don't have an answer for that, Bollo I am sorry.  I wish I could be more helpful to you,' said Kent.  'But ah well, such is life...  Life is tough sometimes, yep.  Life can be tough as old shoes!'
  'Or old socks,' said the clown.
  Kent heard this and chuckled.
  'Everything started to go bad for me twenty years ago,' Bollo went on.  'I used to be this really popular character in town back in the day and then BOOM!  Everything just started to go wrong - like dominos falling down you know what I mean?  It was like I had stepped from one universe into another.  Nothing made sense to me anymore.  I married this strange witch-like woman.  She brought me down good and proper.  She took everything I had as well.  I think she put a spell on me you know?'
  'Sounds bad!  At least these days you are free from that nonsense, right?'
  'Right.  Since she divorced me and left on on the streets I started writing all these songs,' said Bollo.  'Do you want to hear one of my songs, Kent?  Let me sing you the best song I have ever written.'
  'Go for it!  I am all ears!' said Kent.
  So Bollo sang his song.  It went like this:

I don't trust dogs...
DU DU DU DU DU
I don't trust dogs!
DU DU DU DU DU
O no!  I don't trust dogs!
DU DU DU DU DU
I say I don't trust dogs...
DU DU DU DU DU
O no sir I don't trust dogs
(But I trust badgers)
DU DU DU DU DU
I just don't trust dogs,
Dong trust dogs,
No sir I don't trust dogs!
DU DU DU DU DU

'What a brilliant song!' said Kent clapping his hands.  'What is the song called?'
  'Have a guess!'
  'I can't imagine!'
  And so Bollo told him, 'I call that song:  A swift walk among the wild ways of the road on a summer day - o!   With a summer breeze flowing with ease in my hair, & with the soft grassy ground of the fields beneath my feet O please summer breeze please!  Ease the heaviness in  my old heart and lift the lightness the light that sparkles in every corner every memory every scar woven into my soul lift it with ease so that my heaviness might float away with the breeze.'
  'That's a great name for a song,' said Kent.  'It gives the listener a good idea about what they are getting into when they attempt to embrace your wonderful and refined music.'
  'I agree,' Bollo replied.  'My music is all that I have since the divorce, since my old witch-like wife took my beloved unicycle away from me.  I loved that unicycle you know?  Sometimes I think I should have just married the unicycle instead.  At least the damn thing kept quiet.'
  'You've had it hard, Bollo mate.  That divorce sounds truly rough.  But there is a silver lining to all of it at the end,' said Kent.  
  'O really?  Enlighten me?' said Bollo.
  'You discovered your passion,' Kent returned softly.  'You have discovered what you are really all about in life - you are a song writer with a golden tongue!'
  'Thanks a lot Kent!  You are a true mate!  I have enjoyed today.  Hey!  Let me make you a brew.  A nice hot cup of tea?  What do you say?' said Bollo.
  'I would love that,' said Kent.  'Bring it on!  Bring on that cup of tea!'
  'Okay!  This is going to be a very rich cup of tea.  The sort of tea that only a clown can make,' said Bollo.  
  'I am looking forward to it,' said Kent.
  Bollo left for a few minutes and returned holding a large and full cup of tea.  He starts to hand the cup over to Kent, but in the last second pulls the cup back.  What was this?  Some kind of clown's trick?  
  'O wait!' said Bollo.  'There is something I forgot to do before I serve you!'
  And that was when Bollo took off his shoe and dunked his dirty greasy sock right into the cup of tea.  'There you go, Kent my friend!  You can drink it now!'
  Kent thought Bollo was joking, clowning around as it were, and returned with a laugh.  'I am not drinking that,' he said.  'It's got a dirty old sock in it!'
  'That is my special sock that is,' said Bollo.  'I haven't washed it in twenty years!'
  'And that is why I am not drinking that cup of tea,' said Kent.
  'You will drink that tea or I will take offence to you!' Bollo bellowed.
  The clown sounded serious...
  'Please tell me this is a joke?' said Kent with a quiver of fear in his voice.
  'I never joke about socks and tea!  Now drink!' said Bollo.  It really sounded like he was trying to intimidate Kent.  'I want every drop of this richly refined grease tea down your throat by the end of the day!  Do you hear?  Drink!  DRINK!'  Bollo started to lose his temper and he screamed once again out loud for ALL to hear:  DRINK!
  'I can't drink this tea, Bollo.  It has got a twenty year old unwashed sock in it.  I will end up killing myself if I drink this!' said Kent.
  'If you do not drink the tea of your own free will then I will have to grab you and force the tea into your guts!' cried Bollo.  'Now drink it up!  I want to see you enjoy it!  Do you hear me boy?  I want you to ENJOY this tea!'
  'Don't do this to me Bollo!  I beg you!  I thought we were friends!'
  'I thought you were a friend as well, until you freely rejected this special cup of grease enriched tea I have tenderly prepared for you!' the clown roared on and now Bollo was really starting to sound like a pure and true lunatic!  
  Kent was in a fix and he needed an escape route, fast.  The clown was clearly going out of his mind and Kent couldn't cope with all this nonsense about tea and socks.  Kent had a life to lead.  He had work to attend in the morning.  He couldn't get himself ill drinking sock enriched tea!  NO!  He started looking left and right: "There has got to be a way for me to get out of this!"
  'I can see that you are planning to make a run for it,' said Bollo to Kent.  'It won't do you no good, lad.  I will just follow you.  No matter where you go, I will be there, an inch or so away, or in fact in the way of your shadow.  So let's end this business between us now and drink up your tea!'
  'Please don't make me do this, Bollo!  I can't cope!  I am begging you as a fellow human being don't do this!' said Kent.
  Kent couldn't handle it no more.  He sprang up and started to make a run for it!  
  RUN RUN!  Run as fast as you can!  From a distance you might have confused Kent for the gingerbread man!
  But it was no good.  No matter how fast his feet carried him the clown Bollo was still only still feet away - the clown always seemed to just keep within a good distance of Kent, like Kent just couldn't shake the crazy clown off.
  But Kent kept going, turning this way and that.  But every time he looked back there was the clown holding a cup of tea with a sock in it chasing him!
  Kent could not escape that clown!
  Kent was not a fighting man no.  Kent was more of a lover than a fighter.  But he knew in that moment that he had to stand his ground against the clown.  And so he did.  He managed to grab the clown, being the younger larger stronger guy he was able to tip the clown over off of his feet.  Then Kent grabbed the tea cup and emptied it onto the street and he threw the cup and the sock as well into the nearest bin.  
  Then Kent ran for it again.
  This time Kent succeeded in escaping the clown...

Kent had nightmares that night.  He kept on seeing the clown in his dreams chasing him with socks in his tea cup!
  It was awful.
  But at least it was over...
  Right?
  No more clown business!
  'I shall not be speaking to random clowns ever again,' said Kent as he got ready to start the morning.  
  He heard a sound downstairs somebody had put something through his letter box so he went down to have a look at what it was...
  And to his horror he saw a soggy socks on the floor!  On one of the socks there were these words written with red paint:  I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN!
  Kent had to sneak out of the back door in case Bollo was waiting for him in the front yard.
  Kent didn't know what to do.
  The clown called Bollo was homeless and knew every street.  He could be watching from any corner, any nook and any shadow...
  In a state of horrible anxiety Kent finally sought the help of the police.
  Constable Maddox was happy to hear Kent's story in his office.
  'You said you wanted to speak to me about a certain clown with blue hair?' said Constable Maddox.
  'Yes!  It's Bollo the blue clown,' said Kent.
  'Ah yes!  Him...  He's he been up to mischief again, right?  That old clown is such a fool!  I arrested him last week.  I thought a stint in jail might have straightened the freak out, but not so it seems.  So what has he been up to this time?  Washing you like a window I guess?'
  'No sir,' said Kent.  'It's worse than that.  He has been trying to force me to drink a cup of tea with a sock in it!  This morning a sock was put through my letter box!  I have never been so scared!'
  'Yes.  This sounds really bad.  I am sorry for you,' said Maddox calmly and he started to brush his chin - the man looked like he was in deep thought.  'We dealt with a case like this before a few years ago,' Maddox returned.  'This isn't the first time Bollo has needlessly harassed a member of the public with a pair of socks...'
  'Is there nothing you can do about the man?'
  'Bollo is a tricky fish to deal with,' Maddox replied.  'You see he is clever in a mad sort of way.  He knows how to sail just above the wide curtain of the law - he knows what kind of crimes he can commit and get away with.  He might not seem to be very sharp, our boy Bollo, but he knows what he is doing.  The last time I got him it was because he assaulted the exchequer of the council.  You see that is how it is.  Bollo needs to attack someone official.  That is the only way I can reel him in.  It's a sad business, but there is nothing I can do to help you right now!'
  'Are you being serious?  Are you really trying to tell me that I am going to be harassed by a clown and his dirty socks forever?'  
  'Listen son.  There is only one option left for you as far as I can see,' Maddox continued calmly.  'You are going to have to leave the country.  There is a train leaving this afternoon for the UK.  I will pay and you can get out.  What say you?  Different country?  Fresh start?  No clowns following you?  Sounds good to me.  I know I would take up my offer - especially if I was in your shoes.'
  'Fine then!  If you are paying then I will get that train.  Thank you Constable.  I do have relatives in UK so I will stay with them for a while until I get things sorted out.'
  'Good man!' said Constable Maddox.  'Now then, before you leave do you fancy a cup of tea?'
  'That's not funny Constable!' Kent returned coldly.
  The very thought of tea just made Kent shudder - which is really sad because Kent did used to love tea so much!
  Constable Maddox slapped Kent on the shoulder and started to chuckle.  'Alright son!  Let's get that train and see to getting you out of this country!'
 
Kent was on the first train out of town...
  He finally felt safe.
  He was free of the clown!
  Kent was looking out of the window watching the rocking mellow green countryside go sliding by:

  New life and new home at the end of these wheels.  Go wheels!  Go wheels!  Take me home!

Perfect!
Kent closed his eyes.
It was time for a nap he had a lot of sleep to catch up on.
Kent was about to drift off when he heard a mad little voice crackling in his ear...
And the voice said:

Fancy a cup of tea with a sock in it boy!

  THE END


(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)


For more adventures set in the town of Fenwick check out:
===========================================================