The Pipes!!!!

PART 1

Don't put me in the pipes!

I beg you!

I claw and I scratch.
I try to hold THEM back.
They won't let go.
They whisper threats and I say no!
They whisper:
"To the pipes to the pipes with you!"

ANYWHERE BUT THE PIPES!

"Leave me be!" I cry. 
They don't listen.
OR they don't care.
The latter more likely.
I cannot go to the pipes!

But they won't let go!

PART 2

I was walking one day, maybe my last day, around the corner of what I thought to be nothing more than a safe street a mile no less from home.
  Then it happened...
  They came at me, hands grabbed, like snakes at rats, terrible tendrils of mighty strength.
  They bark like dogs too.
  They throw curses at me.
  Their leader, who stands aside and does not attack, looks down at me, and I see the end of the world in his eyes.
  I knew he meant me ill.
  Then he whispers:
  "We're taking you to the pipes!"
  NO!
  I scream it again NO.
  They do not listen.
  I don't think they care. 
  They muffle my voice and take me away.
  I fight.
  They restrain me with strength!
  NO!
  I cannot bear the thought of the pipes!

PART 3

They carry me far across the city.
  Many eyes watch with lids closed tight.
  And on we go, into the midnight.
  The moon cares more than their sallow faces.
  There is no hope as we draw closer to the pipes!
  "Curse you all!" I cry at the hilt of my lungs.
  "This was not my path!  You broke my road!  I cannot be undone!  My words live like flowers!  Tree pollen survives the root!  So will my words!  I will hold fast like stars, and still burn when the our beloved sun shuns them.   And then my words will burn as bright as the sun!  The mighty star!  I shall hold.  And though you my assailants might shroud me in clouds as deep and as dark as a pit, the star will always hold true.  As true as stone.  Fast We shall hold!  Bring on your waves O dreadful pitiless foe.  Bring on your words!  I shall laugh at them.  For many years I have held my head low, and kept in good favour with many a soul - living and dead.  Now time owes me a favour and it will come back with a trinket to haunt you!'
  I arm myself with this.
  I care no longer for the pipes!

They take me to that sullen location I feared most. 
  Worse than nightmares.
  A shell of a city that once lived.
  The pipe opens its mouth - it calls of me with a hiss of foul smelling vapour.
  They place me inside with little care.
  They close the lid.
  It's all dark.
  It is silent.
  I am trapped in the pipes...
  So helpless I must sing -
  and hope falters with a sting:
  May the air abandon my lungs.
  May my stomach sink.
  I dream for nought but death - sweet dreams take me there!
  Farewell sweet dreams!

THE END


========================================================================
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My Uncles Christmas Disaster!!!!!

It was the middle of a cold wet and drafty December when my Uncle Clyde was walking home from work, completely minding his own business, when this crazy man he had never met before leapt out of a hedge and rugby-tackled him to the ground.
  My uncle had the fight of his life trying to get free from the crazy lunatic, when his assailant let him go, brushed himself down and apologised, saying:  'Sorry mate I thought you were someone else!'
  'That's okay...  I think...' my uncle replied.
  He was still lying on the ground, bruised and battered.  The lunatic had the decency to give him a hand up.
  The lunatic introduced himself.
  'My name is Banksy,' he said.  'So what do they call you stranger?'
  Clyde told him his name.
  'Yeah!  I recognise you!  You're the cleaner in that shop right?'
  'Yes I am a cleaner,' my uncle replied.
  'Don't suppose you can put a good word in for me with your boss and get me a discount on any of the food - or anything?'
  'I don't think I can do that!'
  Banksy laughed and slapped my uncle on the shoulder as if they were old friends or something!  'Just joking mate,' he said.  'I like to have a laugh with people that's all!'
  'Well okay I had better get going then...'
  My uncle was desperate to slip away - but it wasn't going to happen that day!
  'Hey what's wrong you?' said Banksy stopping my uncle in his tracks.  'Getting all funny with me?  I thought we were mates!'
  'Look here son I have never met you before!'
  'Well that's nice,' said Banksy.  'I give you a hand up, treat you like a mate and in return you brush me off like I was some kind of dog in the street!  Well that's nice!  And where's your Christmas spirit?  Eh?  Don't bother mate don't bother!  I know when I am not wanted!  I am going to go now but I will remember you!  Clyde!  This isn't over.'
 After that Banksy walked away, and with a sigh of relief, my uncle returned home

  Who was that guy?
  He was mad!
  Back home Clyde made himself a nice cup of teas and went to bed.
  When the morning came round he was back at work again, with his bucket and mop, doing the job he loved so much.
  Clyde was just wrapping up his morning shift, when he heard a voice he hoped never to hear ever again!
  'Alright mate!'
  It was Banksy!
  He was back!
  Clyde's spirits fell right down to the bottom of his tatty boots.
  O no!
  What could that lunatic want this time?
  Banksy walked right up to Clyde and started shaking his hand.  'Good to see you again buddy,' he said.  'And how are you doing my old mate?'
  'I am doing my job.'
  'And so am I,' said Banksy.  'You stay there and I will speak to you in a minute.'
  Banksy vanished into a cloakroom and reemerged wearing a red suit and a fake white beard...
  Clyde couldn't believe it...
  Banksy was plying Father Christmas that year in the shop!
  Clyde couldn't get his head round it!
  Of all people why had his manager chosen to employ such as crazy lunatic to play Father Christmas?
  'Ho ho ho and all that rubbish!' said Banksy laughing and shaking Clyde about.  'This is such a wonderful time of year!'
  'Is it?'
  'Hey!  I'll have less of that miserable attitude from you mate!  This is the season to be jolly remember!'
  'If you say so...'
  'Look Clyde I don't suppose you could do me a favour?'
  Clyde wasn't given the chance to respond - but all the time he was thinking "I hardly know the man and he expects a favour out of me?"
  'I don't suppose you could take over my shift?'
  'I beg your pardon?'
  Banksy explained that he had a bad back.  'I don't think I can do Father Christmas today,' he said.  'But you could.  I will fetch one of my spare Santa uniforms and we'll get you suited up and ready for business.'
  'I don't think so!'
  'You're not even going to think about it?'
  'No!  I'm not!  Damn!  I'm still working!'
  Banksy was furious!
  You could see it in his eyes!
  'Well ain't that nice?' he shouted.  'Here I am, a good mate who needs a little help, you turn him down at his hour of need.'
  'I hardly know you Banksy.  I only met you yesterday, after you attacked me for no reason!'
  'I didn't attack you I was just messing around.  You're too sensitive that's your problem mate!  Now are you going to help me or not?'
  'No!' and Clyde took his bucket and mop and walked away.
  Clyde needed a break.
  He made his way over to the coffee shop but before he could reach the counter or even grab any change out of his pocket, Father Christmas himself came bounding over several tables towards him, dragging this green sack behind him.
  'Excuse me Excuse me!' he was saying as he was pushing people aside.
  He stopped when he got to Clyde and broke the souls of many onlooking children by taking his beard off so he could talk.
  It was Banksy of course.
  He pulled another Santa costume out of the sack.
  'Go on mate!' he said to Clyde.  'Be a sport and put this on!'
  Clyde was incensed with the strange man at this point.
  What was wrong the guy?
  Could he be raving mad?
  But Clyde was determined to hold his ground against the boisterous beast.  'Look!' he said.  'I am not dressing up as Santa  not even if you paid me!'
  'Okay!' said Banksy.  'I'll put it in another way.  If you don't dress up as Santa and take over my shift I'll beat you up!'
  'Are you being serious?'
  'Serious is as serious does!'
  'You're threatening to attack me?  That's a criminal offence.'
  'Not if I take you out in the middle of a back alley where no ones watching.  Then it will be my word against yours.'
  'You're mad!'
  'Not yet!  But I will be unless you put this costume on!'
  Clyde couldn't take it anymore!
  Pushing the lunatic aside he made a run for it!
  He left the building and ran and ran!
  He could hear footsteps echoing in the street behind him!
  He dared to look back!
  And there was Banksy hot on his trial.
  'I am going to beat the living daylights out of you boy!' he was shouting.
  Clyde ran and ran, his legs going like a pair of crazy clappers dancing in a musical play!
  He had to get away!
  But Banksy was the faster man out of the two, and before long Clyde had this crazy Father Christmas bearing down on top of him and finally grappling him down to the ground!
   'Okay you lunatic I will put the damn costume on!'
   Clyde had given in...
  He had no choice.
  He would do anything, ANYTHING just to make the crazy man go away.

So Clyde returned to work buckled up as Santa.
  It must have looked strange, Santa going about with a bucket and a mop, but that's how it was.
  'Only a few more hours and I will be free,' thought my uncle.  'I'll just give this floor another going over and...'
  Out of nowhere two stocky people appeared in his view, and standing side by side their used their great frames to block the corridor off.
  Who were these two horrs?  And they looked like they meant business!
  'You're coming with us Banksy,' said the one who must have been the leader.  'You owe us big time, and you are going to pay up, no matter what it takes!'
  Clyde had to make a stand at this point.
  This nonsense had to stop!
  'Now look I'm not Banksy.  But I do know the guy you're looking forward and I can show you where to find him.'
  'We've heard all before Banksy,' replied the tough looking guy.  'We're running out of patience with your lies and excuses.  We're taking you in now and we're going to finish this our way.'
 There was to be no reasoning with these two...
  Clyde could see this...
  So he did the only thing he could do.
  RUN.
  He made for the cloakroom.  Luckily there was a window just about large enough for him to fit through.  Then when he was in the streets he ran like a mad hair with a couple of hungry weasels on his tail!
  It must of been a sad sight for all the children looking in on the scene, as their hero Santa ran by, without saying a word, with two tough-nut thugs hot on his trail and hurling insults after him.
  Clyde wasn't able to lose the thugs; no matter what alley he turned they were also there in his shadow.
  Clyde thought the nightmare was going to go on forever!
  Then he heard a little voice whisper in the corner, 'This way my friend!'
  Clyde followed the voice.
  Finally he came to and saw a tall man standing at a dead end of a street.
  He was indeed a very tall man, tall and thin, but he was also hunched and his ugly thin face was dressed in a tatty old beard.
  He was holding a sack open in his clawed maw and gesturing it to Clyde.
  'Hey son!' he said.  'Jump into this sack and you'll be safe!'
  'No way!' Clyde cried.  'I don't even know who you are?'
  'Do you believe in elves?' said the strange tall hunched man.
  Clyde replied saying that he did not ever believe in elves.
  'I am going to give you a nice little Christmas wish,' said the tall hunched man.  'Climb into this sack  here and I will save you from those nasty thugs that are after you!'
  Clyde was loath to do it - but the two thugs were  only a few minutes away, and he knew he had no choice.
  So he unwillingly trusted the words of the old crooked man, and stepped into the sack!
  'You won't regret this!' said the tall hunched man.
  As soon as Clyde entered the sack something truly strange happened.
  Something so strange it was mystifying!
  Passing through the stringy texture of the sack my uncle found a door, which he took the handle of and turned, and he ended up entering a beautiful house!
  O it was marvellous!
  Like something truly out of a dream!
  The living room was beautifully decorated and full of Christmas warmth.
  There was a great hearthstone full of a great golden glow of a mighty fire, and its dancing yellow arms cast their light on a great table which was covered in a gorgeous feast!
  'How did I get here?' and Clyde had the right to be confused and amazed - for it wall such an astonishing thing to see and accept.
  The tall crooked man stepped in through the same door behind Clyde.
  He slapped Clyde on the shoulder and smiled.  'This is Elf magic!'
  Elf magic?
  'I am an elf, you see.  A real elf.  I guess you thought elves were like little pixie things that squeak and scuttle about the place.  O no!  Elves look like this, tall, and hunched, and dressed in dark rags with hedge-like beards full of moss and twigs.    We carry frogs in our pockets and wear damp shoes and never wash, for we love to smell of the earth!'  And the elf shoved his armpits in Clyde's face so that Clyde got a good blast of the elves disgusting body odour.
  'Smell my magical breath!' said the elf, and then the thin crooked man breathed freely and heavily into Clyde's face, making the poor man almost pass out with pure disgust!'
  'I am a true elf,' the elf went on.  'An elf of magic!'
  'Well thank you for saving me,' said Clyde.  'I better get home now.'
  'What about the feast?'
  Yes.
  It did look rather nice.
  'Well I suppose I could stay for a bit,' said Clyde, puckering up at the sight of all the lovely mouth watering food.
  'Take a good look because you aren't having any of it!' said the elf.  'You owe me for saving your life!'
  'Owe you?  You can't be serious!'
  'Seriously serious!' the elf replied in a crafty but very jolly voice.  'Your gonna spend the day mucking out the reindeer!  Now!  Here's a bucket and a broom!  Get to it!'
  So Clyde spent the day out in the cold, tidying up after the beasts...
  And my!   A dirtier bunch of reindeer you never did see!
  Covered in muck, the brutes!
  But o well - it was Christmas, and Clyde tried to be jolly about it, and contended himself by looking through the window of the beautiful house, at the feast that the elf gorged on all by himself!
  Imagining what the feast tasted like was almost as much fun as actually eating it!
  In fact, my uncle thought to himself, the thought of eating the feast in his imagination was better than reality!
  Because at least he wasn't going to put any weight on!
  Merry Christmas!


========================================================================

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The 1st time my uncle got himself arrested! (part 3 - Finale)

My uncle Clyde had gotten himself into a mess.
  He had gotten caught up in a drug scam..

And now he was the captain of a ship being run by Russian gangsters!

Clyde was finally introduced to the ships captain - Mr Buster (as he called himself) - and funnily enough he wasn't Russian either.
  Not really a surprise, what with a name like Buster!
  Come on!
  Russian?
  Buster?
  Really?  And what goes well with electricity!
  The only Russian thing about the man was that he enjoyed a glass of Vodka every now and then.
  Glass?
  ...O sorry I meant bottle.
  Yes.
  Mr Buster was the very picture of a drunk.
  He slurred his words.
  And when he walked he leaned ever so dangerously to the left...
  ...and to the right...
  ...and to the ground!
  You could stick a picture of him in a dictionary with the words THIS IS WHAT A DRUNK LOOKS LIKE AVOID HIM AT ALL COSTS and everyone would be fine with it.
  How he ever became the captain of an ocean liner was a mystery more profound than the Bermuda Triangle.
  'Buster Ruster,' said the man, introducing himself while shaking my uncle by the hand.  'But people who know me well call me Reese Vandell Chandelier for short!'
  'I will stick with just Buster thanks,' my uncle replied.
  'No problem.'
  'Good!  So long as your not offended!'
  'Why would I be offended?  I wasn't the one who sneezed?'
  'Okay...  Let's change the subject.  So, Buster, what do you want?'
  'O nothing sir!  Just wanted to check in to see if you are okay!  And also to let you know the ship is about to crash.'
  Clyde heard the man out and laughed.  Of course he thought Buster was only joking about the crash.
  But even though he was drunk Buster had a serious look about him.
  It was the kind of look that made Clyde feel ever so slightly nervous.  'You're not joking are you?'
  'That's why I am drunk right now sir,' said Buster.  'The thought of drinking just makes me want to forget about things!'
  'You want to forget about the ship crashing?'
  'Sure I do?  Who wouldn't want to forget something like that?  If one is going to die then it is better for one to out of this evil world blank drunk.  I mean, who wants to experience death sober?  It's a painful business, sir.  Why, I remember when my old Sally died...'
  'Sally?  O was that your wife?  I am sorry...'
  'No sir, Sally was my pet hamster.'
  'Right okay.  Now listen to me.  You need to tell me more about this crash.'
  'We're currently heading towards an iceberg!'
  'Really?  Good lord!  It's happened again!'
  Here Buster started laughing.
  'Just joking sir,' he said.  'But wouldn't it be great if it was happening like that again?  Why wouldn't that be romantic?  Ha!  And that guy, David Cameron, will be making another film like he did last time.  And we'll be famous and dead!  How wonderful!'
  'Okay.  If we are not crashing into an iceberg what are we really crashing into?'
  'Well you won't believe this sir but we are really crashing into a great big fat old whale!'
  'A whale??!!'
  'Aye sir and I don't mean the country.'
  They were speeding into a whale?  No way!  Buster had to be beyond drunk to be speaking about such crazy things.
  Surely?
  Or surely not - as it turned out they were indeed heading directly towards a whale...
  Clyde didn't who to feel more sorry for, the ship and its crew or the whale.
  'There are two whales out there,' said Buster.  'They are in league with each other, and plan to bring our ship down.'
  'Since when have whales ever been violent?'
  'Since we started charging them for swimming in the Atlantic sir,' Buster replied.
  'Okay.  Look.  We need to get the crew off the ship.'
  Buster heard Clyde and cried: 'Forget that malarkey!  We've got to get ourselves off first!'
  'I thought the captain was supposed to go down with the ship?'
  'Forget that old fashioned nonsense!' said Buster.  'This isn't the golden voyage of Sinbad!  You've got to think about number one in this day and age!'
  'I still feel quite about it.'
  'Fine!  You drown in cold salt water.  I'm getting off with or without you!'
  'Now hang on a minute!'
  Clyde was not a brave man, he wan't afraid to admit this.  He found the idea of drowning abhorrent, so he willingly followed the madman Buster into a safety boat.
  And soon they were adrift amid the might waves - lost in the titanic grip of the sea!
  Clyde look back and he could still see the ocean liner - apparently doing quite well.
  It hadn't sunk yet.
  'The whales don't seem to be attacking?'
  'And they won't sir,' Buster replied.  'I was only kidding you earlier!'
  'What?  No!  You need to get us back!'
  'No chance of that happening now,' Buster replied.  'We've got to keep going to wherever destiny takes us!'
  'You madman!  Why have you done this?  We have no food or water and we're stuck in the middle of the ocean!  We could die!  This must be a joke!  A bad dream!  I'm going to wake soon!  O please wake up Clyde you fool!'
  'No sir!' said Buster.  'I said what I said and did what I did because I felt that we both needed an adventure!  And here we are!  In the midst of the sea, the unknown, the world our oyster!'
  'I preferred it when the world was a snail, stuck in the same place!'
  'Well it ain't all that bad then,' said Buster.  'Snails and oysters are related.'
  That wasn't the answer Clyde wanted to hear.
  'Look, I'll tell you the truth,' said Buster, 'I am not a captain.  Actually, I used to be a bus driver.  I've never been at sea before, you see...  And I am a coward to boot.  I'm the kind of guy who'd hide behind his pet dog in a fight.  I am a mess of a man.  I once did a postman's round for a whole morning because someone threatened to beat me up.  So I am sorry to get you in this mess.'
  Clyde looked at Buster, the drunken oaf, and felt deeply depressed.
  'What about a joke to lift the mood?' said Buster.
  'Go on then,' said my uncle.
  'Why was Watt Taylor called Watt?  Because he kept asking WHAT all the time!'
  My uncle sighed and replied, 'Congratulations, Buster!  You've just been entered into the Guinness Book of World records for creating the worst joke ever in the history of mankind.'
  Buster grinned.
  I guess he saw being the originator of the worst joke ever as something to be proud of.
  But then he was drunk of course so everything was great as far as he was concerned.

Eventually they sighted land...
  Clyde couldn't believe it!
  Hooray!
  Maybe things weren't that bad after all!
  The water carried their boat right up onto the lovely golden beaches of the island, and Clyde leapt out and cried, 'Thank mercy we're saved!'
  And then he had to think for five minutes, and then a little niggling thought yapped in his brain, 'But are we really saved?'
  They could be anywhere!
  Buster was still sat in the boat, moaning very loudly and holding his head with both hands.  'Darn it!  I think I be sobering up!  It's a miserable thing indeed sir it is indeed!  Don't suppose you have a bottle of vodka at all?'
  Buster tried to stand, and then fell down.
  Clyde did not speak to him again that day and was happy not to.
  There was a jungle in the middle of the island.  It was vast, and dark, and very frightening to look at!
  Suddenly an old withered  man came stumbling out of the nearby foliage.
  'Stop there my son!' he cried.  'You are new here?'
  'I hope so,' Clyde replied.  'If I have been here before I wasn't sober.'
  'Well that's okay then,' said the old man.  'My name is Flinster.  I'm a bit of a spinster.  And  a twister.  Nice to meet you!'
  'Hi Flinster.  So where are we?'
  'O nowhere except the middle of old nowhere!  There's nothing here except me and my bubblegum!'
  'What?'
  'Didn't you hear me correctly, sir?  That's right!  I sell gum!  Bubblegum!  The best fruitiest most favourable gum in all the land!  No joke!  Try some!'
  Flinster forced some gum into Clyde's hand.
  Clyde, out of disparity, tried it.
  It actually turned out to taste quite good!
  'I like this gum!' he said.
  'Thank you!' said Flinster.  'I work very hard to make the best most favourable gum.'
  'How long have you been stuck on this island - making gum?'
  'Ten years now,' Flinster replied.  'I make gum in the name of my beloved Samantha...'
  And here the man looked sadly at the ground.  'We built our little gum business together, but sadly she died five years ago.'
  'O I am so sorry!  Was Samantha your wife?'
  'No!' said Flinster suddenly.  'Samantha was my pet chicken.  I've never had a wife.  I never got into all that marrying business.  I'm pretty bad at taking orders you see.'
  'I understand what you mean,' Clyde replied.
  'If you've got time I'll show you where I work.'
  Clyde was stuck on a strange island in the middle of nowhere and wearily explained to Flinster that he was going nowhere fast and he had all the time in the world to do anything random and stupid.
  Flinster heard this and was very pleased.
  With great enthusiasm he led Clyde through the ways of the jungle...
  After some travel they reached a large thatched barn.
  They enter, and Clyde beheld an amazing sight...
  A whole factory of pipes, tins, and huge cauldrons heaving out rings of multicoloured smoke.
  The whole building was alive with the sound of drumming and pipping as the machinery turned and swirled the fruity juices in their steel gullets and vomited out line after line of delicious gum.
  Clyde was amazed, impressed and frightened at the same time.
  Flinster had been very busy - carrying out his industry with great zeal and fervour.
  But the man had to be insane as well  to have built all of that - all those machines...  He could have done anything - ANYTHING.  I mean he had the resources, obviously, why not build a boat and sail away?
  But yet he chose to remain...
  ...And build a factory...
  HE HAD TO BE MAD!!!!
  Flinster started to speak:
  'Do you know what the main ingredient is to my beloved gum?'
  'Apples?  Coconuts?  I don't know you tell me?'
  'It used to be antelopes.  But then we ran out of those.  So now we use...  HUMANS!'
  Flinster grappled Clyde to the ground.
  Clyde tried to shove the madman off - but Flinster had his claws in him and struck out with the strength of a madman.  'I am going to put you in the cauldron boy!' Flinster cried with lunacy flowing freely in his voice.  'I am going to cook you up and turn you into gum!  That's right boy!  We're going to make bubbles out of you!'
  Just when it seemed it was all going to end badly for Clyde there was the sound of gunfire - above and below it came - and before you could say oranges and lemons they were surrounded by the American Army!
  One GI took a hold of Flinster and threw him aside.  Another grabbed Clyde by the hand and pulled him to his feet.  'Thanks son,' said the soldier.  'You helped us track down Flinster McSpinster.  Number one wanted criminal in the known world.  He's been turning people into bubblegum for nine years now.  We didn't know where he was, but thanks to you and your radio message we finally got him!'
  RADIO MESSAGE??
  Just then Buster entered.  He shook Clyde by the hand and explained that he was a secret agent working for NASA all along.  'Thanks for keeping us amused Clyde,' said Buster.  'The drunken thing was really just an act, though I did get drunk in real life in order to make sure nobody discovered my secret identity.  It may have given me gout but it was worth it to get our hands on this most terrible criminal.  Thank you Clyde!  Is there anyway we can do to repay you, son?'
  'Well it would be awfully nice if you could take me home.  All this being adrift is terribly depressing.  I just want my normal life back, yes even my boring old floor cleaning job.  Anything is better than being chased around jungle-islands by mass murdering bubblegum producers.'
  Buster said he was more than happy to help, and within a day Clyde was back home again!

What a crazy time!
  'I better get to bed and get ready for work!'
  Just then Clyde felt in his pockets and brought out piece of Flinster's fruity bubblegum. 
  Clyde looked at the gum and chuckled to himself.  'A souvenir from my adventures!' 
  I don't think so!
  'You don't know where that bubblegum's been!  I don't want it!  Good riddance to gum!'
  Clyde rolled the gum up and stuck it on a nearby lamp post.
  Time to go home...
  Then a voice shouted, 'I saw that!'
  And a policeman jumped out of a hedge!
  'I've been watching you!' he said.  'You looked suspicious, loitering around this quiet and peaceful part of town.  And then I catch you red handed!'
  'Catch me red handed doing what?'
  'Defiling that lamppost of course!' said the policeman.  'That's littering that is sir.  That is polluting the atmosphere!'
  'Polluting the atmosphere?  You must be joking?' 
  'I never joke sir!  And I don't like your lip either!  I shall be adding verbal abuse to the list as well!'
  'Verbal abuse?  List?  Look here I can just grab the gum...'
  'It's too late for that my boy,' said the policeman.  'I am taking you in!'
  'You actually going to do this?  You actually going to arrest me?'
  'It's my civic duty sir,' said the policeman.  'Now follow me to the station!'
  Clyde was eventually charged with loitering, littering, backchat in the presence of an officer of the law and disrespectful conduct in a public area.
  He got a criminal record and spent a week in prison... 
  And that was how my uncle Clyde got himself arrested!
  And it would not be the first time it would happen either...

But that is another story!





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The Way of the roads

Follow Rudwin on a new adventure!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbzySuWTV60&t=2770s

Does Easy Miner mean anything?

So there I was - far down at the deep end of the cave.
But even that far down I could still see.
The crystals in the rock shone - they shone on the walls - above me.
Like stars.
Thousands of stars shining in a thousand ways.

There were many strangers in that room...
They all talked to me, like they knew me, like we were all friends of old.
But I did not know them, and so our words were as empty as clouds.

And so was carved in the stone the words, "Easy Miner."
Did that mean anything?
Did it have to mean anything?

...I've tried to find a way - but maybe climbing isn't the answer:
Maybe it's time to sit and think.
Maybe it's time to dream, and float.
Maybe I will float to the top -
Maybe my dreams will grant me a prettier picture.

There are set of steps I always see.
They go up and up.
But I just can't get to the top of them.
I know there must be a way.
The gulls make their nests at the top - I hear their wings beat...
But I can never get to the top.

Enjoy the silence if you can get it.
Silence let's you think.
And when you can think who knows what you can come up with?

Your dreams are yours.
Tend them as you would a flower;
Let the garden in your head show many wonderful colours.
Let the songbirds come down to nest,
and dance in their songs.
Paint every colour with your thoughts and cherish them.

THE END

========================================================================

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Play Given 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Also take a look at:

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My Books

Thoughts

beer when I am writing, whiskey when I am thinking, wine when I am happy

Happiness...

Happiness is a state of mind.

The 1st time my uncle got himself arrested! (part 2)

My uncle didn't have that much luck...
  Obviously...
  But luck struck him that day!

It came at him like an arrow!

Straight and true!

My uncle was a janitor by trade, and he was walking from toilet number two to toilet number three when he bumped into a customer asking for directions to the fruit and veg section.
  'It's...right at the front of the shop.  When you first enter the door.  The first thing you see.'
  The customer slapped his sides and laughed.
  'I'm not that good with this sort of thing!' he replied.  'I don't visits shops often.  I spend most of my time in the country.  I sell scarecrows by trade!'
  Marvellous!
  A scarecrow trader!
  When my uncle heard this he quickly devised a plan.
  'Do you have a scarecrow on you right now?'
  'I have a couple in the back,' said the man.  'I can fetch you one now if you've got the money.'
  '...I've got the money...'
  He didn't.  He's wages had been docked.
  He would have to find some way of getting the cash!
  'O that's great!' said the scarecrow seller.  'I'll be right back!'
  Now my uncle needed cash.
  His plan wouldn't work without it.
  So he walked up to one of the tills and pretended to have a seizure.
  The person behind the till ran off to fetch help, and so my uncle had his chance.
  He ran up tot he till and grabbed all the cash!
  Excellent!
  The plan was going well so far!
  Once he had what he needed he ran and hid in the back.
  He waited for the scarecrow man to return.
  It took about five minutes.
  Brilliant!
  My uncle thrust the cash into the other mans hand.  'Take this!' he said.  'The scarecrow is perfect!'
  'I am glad you think so,' said the other man.  'I work hard on my scarecrows.  I try to make them look as lifelike as possible!  Them crows, you see, them be getting mighty smart of like.  Me think they be watching a little bit too much of the old Hitchcock's stuff!  Har har!'
  My uncle grabbed the scarecrow and ran away to the far corners of the shop.
  He then set up a scene.
  He stuck a broom up the scarecrow, so he could stand, then shoved him next to the bucket, and a toilet.
  He needed to be next to a toilet of course, to show that he was working!
  Excellent!
  He hung a sign around the scarecrows neck reading:
  "Hi!  MY name is Clyde!  I am a janitor and I work here!"
  His manager would see the scarecrow later that day and mumble to himself:  'That is one fine worker I employed.  Such a decent man!  Works so hard on just one toilet!  I wish I had more staff like that!'
  Clyde's plan worked a treat!
  It was now time to get out of the place and find his car again.
  He sooo desperately needed to find his car.
  I mean what fool wouldn't?
  It had a dead body in it!
  Clyde finally found the car, he had to run a couple of miles, but he made it, through desperation.
  Good stuff!
  Sweating, and exhausted, he checked the boot.
  Yes!
  The body was still inside.
  Nobody had stolen it!
  He now had to think about what he was going to do.
  Just then, as he stood thinking, the packages of drugs fell out of his coat!
  He had been carrying the drugs around with him all day!
  At police station...
  And at work!!!!
  Damn what crazy thing!
  He got into the car and drove home.
  He thought he would hide the body in his house for a few days.
  Just as he pulled his car into the car park and turned off the engines, a limousine drove into view.  The limousine stopped right next to his own car, so Clyde had no choice but to face the fancy vehicle when he stepped out.
  What was a limousine doing driving around this dingy part of town?
  The door to the limousine opened and out stepped a tall bold man dressed in black, with black shades over his eyes.  He stood there, arms folded, looking at my uncle, as he stepped out of his car.
  Now here my uncle had a dilemma.
  Should he get back into his car and drive away...?
  Should he ignore the man in black shades...?
  But what about the body?
  He couldn't leave it in the car unattended...
  Okay.
  So he decided to say hello.
  The man in shades was not impressed.
  'What have you got in the boot of the car?' said the man in shades.
  Uhh...air?
  Again, the man in shades was not impressed.
  To my uncles surprise the man in shades introduced himself.  He shook my uncles hand and gave his name freely, 'My name is Mila Dimitri.'
  'Good to meet you, Mila, sir.  My names Clyde.'
  'I like your manners Clyde,' said Mila.  'Have you by  any chance met a horrible little man called Edward Price?'
  'No sir. Never heard of him.'
  'A pity.  I would pay a man well for any information on Edward Price.  Edward Price is my quarry.  I hate him.  If someone was to kill him I would not only thank them, but hug them, and pay them well.  He has done much ill to me and my family in the past.  I want him dead more than anything in life itself.  If only somebody would kill that vile man!'
  'That's interesting,' said Clyde.  'Can we talk in private?'
  'Of course!'

  My uncle was invited inside the limousine, there he was given a cigar and poured champagne.
  They drove him to a very fancy restaurant with some french name my uncle couldn't remember.
  Mila ordered a fine meal and it was three hours before they started to talk about Edward Price again.
  By that time my uncle was thoroughly drunk and relaxed.
  'Edward is dead,' he said.  'I killed him.'
  Mila stood from his chair, dropped to one knee, and kissed my uncle Clyde's left hand.
  'You are a hero to my people,' said Mila.  'You have killed  a great enemy of my family.  I will pay you well for this deed!'
  Marvellous!
  But Mila had one more thing to ask before business was done.
  'Was Edward carrying any certain packages?'
  My uncle Clyde smiled, gave Mila the wink with his right eye, and slide the drugs into the other mans hands.  'I think these are yours,' he said.
  Mila removed his dark shades and my uncle saw the light and joy sparkle in the mans blue eyes.
  'You are the greatest man I have ever met!' said Mila to my uncle.  'I shall make you a king beyond kings for this!'
  'That's very kind,' my uncle replied.
  'Follow me.  I have something to show you.'
  They returned to the limousine.
  They drove a long way.
  Long enough for my uncle to sober up.
  Finally they stopped by the docks.
  They got out of the car and Mila showed my uncle a huge cruise ship.
  It was a real fancy ship, very impressive.
  My uncle was thinking at the time, "Maybe I have won myself a nice little cruise!  It will be wonderful to have a break after all the crazy things that I have been going on!"
  Mila slapped my uncle on  the shoulder like a friend of old and pointed at the cruiser.  'It's yours,' he said.
  WHAT??!!!
  'I want you to take care of my ship for a few weeks,' Mila explained.  'I have urgent business to attend to.  But I don't want to leave my ship unattended.  The Sevastopol is yours!  She's a fine ship, comrade Clyde, so be a gentleman and take care of her!'
  'This is a bit much you know...'
  'I know you can handle it,' said Mila.  'You area man of action, Clyde.  I can see that.  You are someone who thinks on their feet.  Running my ship will be easy to a man like you.  I would trust no one else apart from you Clyde to do this thing.  You killed Edward Price, my sworn enemy.  Not even my best assassins could take that man out.  But you succeeded where they failed!'
  ASSASSINS??!!!
  Mila showed my uncle aboard the ship, and introduced him to the crew.
  They looked terrified when they saw Mila, like men at gunpoint, and when they saw Clyde they bowed several times.
  'They will serve you loyally,' Mila told my uncle.  'Your first destination is Cuba!  Enjoy your trip!'
  So Mila took h is leave and my uncle Clyde was left standing on the deck of the ship, with several navy staff who wouldn't stop bowing and thanking him for being such a great leader.  He didn't have a clue what to do!
  This was the first time he had ever managed a cruise ship...
  ... Funnily enough...
  What could go wrong???






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MY NEW BOOK: Octopus in the Brain!

"Do you remember the fair?  Do you remember the dancing man?  The man in the chequered suit?  I saw him fifty years ago...  I saw him the other week - and he hadn't aged a day...  Ever since I saw him again I can't stop dreaming about the sea and the Octopus...  And I can't shake the image of a town sinking under the ocean waves."

* * *

Two thugs are dispatched on an assassination mission to take down a crime lord.  They seek the man out, take him in, but lose their nerve at the last minute - the rest of their journey is a road into darkness and beyond.

There's something rotten in the heart of Summer Time Town...

...Something ancient, something vile, something eating at the soul of the town.
  And it needs to be destroyed...

ABOUT ME:

Sean Wadley lives in Tewkesbury and works full time in a Medical Pathology Laboratory.  In private he enjoys writing.  His works encompass, mainly, science fiction, mystery and the eccentric.

=========
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Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

The Walls

  I had lived for decades in a room with nicotine stained walls – and dirty windows I couldn’t bear to look out of.  I lived with the same stench of smoke and mildew swimming around my nostrils.  I became part of the smell – the fetid odour, weak, and dribbling, slopping about, just about existing – wafting from one segment of open air to the other.  
  Drifting.
  Drifting.  
  Like a foul smell.
  I would go from my room to my job.
  I walked under the black skies.  
  It was always dark.  
  So much smoke in the air.
  NO stars.
  The moon was a dream.
  What was the moon?
  What was the sun?
  All dreams.
  Just thoughts that go into the mind and jump about and play games with each other every now and then – fun games that just about keep the boredom at bay.  
  I always liked to dream of a sunny day.  Damn!  Just one sunny day…
  Can you imagine a sunny day?  A walk in the park?  The wind singing in the trees, the water kissing the beech, sending a sweet hiss into the air?  Seagulls screaming – happy to be alive.
  Just a dream.
  All a dream.
  There was nothing else but dreams when you live in one room with yellow walls – with one road leading to work.  
  You need dreams when you walk under the night sky.
  And the evil thing about life, with all its smoky smells and mildew, is that it tries to steal your dreams.  
  But you have got to say no.  You’ve got to hang on for dear life to those dreams.  Carry them as crystal rings on your bony fingers.  Let those beautiful diamonds shine somewhere, in your heart if there’s nowhere else and if some foul stench tries to rip them away put a cage round that vital piece of beating muscle, put soldiers there with knifes and assassinate that fiend without guilt and sorrow.
  Just do it.
  Fight the assassin.
  Beat the rigour of that phantom.  
  Don’t let it steal your dreams.
  But it will.

The 1st time my uncle got himself arrested! (part 1)

This is the story about the first time my uncle got arrested.

He has been arrested many times, since.
But this was his first time.

My dear old uncle Clyde is very accident prone...
He's a kind person.
Tries to do right, but no matter the situation he always messes it up.
On this occasion he messed things up very badly indeed.
And all he wanted was to be helpful!

Poor fool...

He was working as a janitor for Wilkinson's at the time, this was four weeks after being sacked from Tesco's where he had worked fort eight years as a floor sweeper:

He had dropped his bucket onto a customers foot...

Clyde was driving home, minding his own business.  It was nine in in the evening, winter, dark, and in the flash of the car light he saw a fellow stranded on the side of the road and frantically waving his arms for help.  It appeared that their car had crashed into a bank and there was oil spilling out everywhere!
  He was a stranger by my uncle was still up and willing to help!
  It was his way.
  My uncle stopped his car and stepped out an asked what the problem was.
  'Just crashed me old car,' said the stranger.
  'I can see that,' my uncle replied.
  'I don't suppose you could help us out could you?  It would be great, mate, if you could.  I just don't know what to do!'
  'Are you with the RAC AA?'
  'No mate I don't do that sort of thing!'
  'I will call the police!'
  'No mate!  Don't do that!  I don't want the police involved in this.  This is a private matter, mate.  Private!  And private means no police, like!  I just don't want those police sticking their noses into my business!'
  'Well,' said my uncle, 'I don't know what to suggest.'
  'I don't suppose you know a mechanic?'
  'No.  Do you?'
  'Are you a mechanic?'
  'I am a janitor.  Formerly a floor sweeper of Tesco.  I have been demoted.'
  'Sorry to hear about that, mate. Look.  I need help here.  I don't suppose I could use your car?'
  '...I can give you a lift...'
  'I need somewhere to stay?  Hey!  I have an idea!  Why not let me stay with you!  That sounds like a great idea!'
  'Well I don;t know...'
  'How about one day?  How does that sound son?  I stay at yours for one day!  Come on man!  Where's your charitable spirit?  We are all brothers of the road here!  We've got to help each other  out!'
  My uncle agreed to help.
  You can stay for one day!
  That's all.

Back home and the stranger made himself nice and comfortable.
  My uncle was amazed to see this!
  The stranger just walked in, grabbed a can and spread himself out on the sofa.
  'Cheers mate!'
  My uncle was in despair!
  How had he gotten himself into this utterly mad situation?!?!
  My uncle said he had to get up early for work.
  'Good for you mate,' said the stranger.
  'What's your name?'
  He was called Edward Price.
  He didn't ask for my uncles name.
  He didn't care.
  He was too busy rubbing his dirty boots on the arm of the sofa.
  Just then there was a knock on the door.
  Edward jumped behind the sofa.
  'Tell them I'm not here!' he screamed.
  MY uncle opened the door.
  It was the police!
  'We're looking for a man called Edward Price.  Seen him?  Here's a picture of him.'
  My uncle said he had never seen the man before.
  He was a loyal fool.
  'Let us know if you do,' said the police officer.  'He's dangerous and wanted!'
  They left.
  Edward emerged from his hiding place patted my uncle on the shoulder.
  'Good man!' he said.  'You and I are like brothers!'
  'I... don't know about that...'
  There was another knock!
  Edward retook his position behind the sofa as my uncle opened the door.
  This time it was two large brutes!
  They were big lads!
  Not the kind of guys you wanted to mess with!
  'Can I help you gentleman?'
  One of them spoke.  'We want to look behind your sofa!'
  What?
  'Not so fast!'
  It was Edward!
  He was holding a Berretta 9mm at the two thugs.  'You won't get me this time!' he cried.
  He shot one of the men dead.
  The other thug fled into the dark, barely escaping...
  Edward fired two more shots, then turned to my uncle!
  'Get into the car mate!  They'll be back with more lads before you know it, and then we will have a war on our hands!'
  'A war???!!!!'
  My uncle couldn't believe what was happening.
  I don't think anyone in his situation would either.
  'Get in the car!' Edward screamed.
  Not feeling in the mood to argue with an armed man my uncle got back into the car.
  Edward sat at the back, and placed the guns muzzle at my uncles temple.
  'Stay calm mate,' he said.  'Just drive!'
  'Drive where?'
  'Anywhere!  Just keep going otherwise those lads are going to find us again!'
  So my uncle turned the car on and drove.
  Edward said my uncle was a good guy, and then added, ominously, 'But I will shoot you if I have to.'
  They drove along quietly for a while.
  My uncle was tired.
  He was hoping he was going to wake up from this nightmare soon.
  'I've got a six o clock shift you know?  Those toilets won't clean themselves you know?'
  'Keep those lips from moving,' said the madman Edward.  'Remember who has the gun!'
  Just then another car pulled up.
  My uncle saw it steer into view from his right screen window.
  A dark beetle, black against the night.
  'I can walk to work if you just want to steal my car,' said my uncle to his captor.
  'Silence boy!' Edward screamed.  'You and are brothers in this war.  We are in cahoots.  We need each other to survive against the dark forces.  If things are going to end in a blaze of glory then let us go out together.  You and I!  To the end brother!'
  O no!
  The drivers in the black car behind pulled down their windows and started shooting.
  Bullets were ringing around everywhere!
  Edward wound down his window and fired back.
  'Go em!' he cried.  'Those Russians won't get me!'
  Russians????
  'Yeah!,' Edward replied.  'Russians gangsters.  Been tracking me for the last few months!'
  Good lord!
  'There are a few more turning up!  Keep driving lad, and I will keep firing.
  My uncles car sparkled with bullets!
  It might have looked nice, in a movie, or somewhere else.
  This is a living nightmare!
  'Did I tell you I start work at six in the morning????'
  But Edward didn't car.
  He just kept firing.
  He was actually quite a good shot!
  'This isn't your first gunfight is it?'
  'NO,' Edward replied.  'I am fighting a war remember!'
  Great.
  The Russian cars disappeared from view.
  Thank goodness!
  'Pull over!' Edward cried.
  My uncle obeyed.
  'I've been shot!' said Edward.  'I am bleeding out man!  I won't last the night!'
  'I'll call the ambulance!'
  'No son!  Don't do that.  No ambulance!  No police.  I want to keep this private, remember?'
  'Yeah.  Sure.'
  'Listen.  Take this.'
  He stuffed several paper packages into my uncles hands.
  Edward said they were drugs.  'Take care of them!'
  'I don't want them!'
  'Just take them!' Edward cried in pain.  'This is all I am worth!  My legacy!  Sell them if needs be!  Make some dough for yourself.  You deserve it!'
  No!
  'Better put the fuel on son!  I hear police!'
  Edward died there and then.
  My uncle was in despair, again.
  What was he to do?
  'What the heck am I going to do!?'
  I think in every human brain there is this little thing - this little cell - and it kicks into action in a crises and makes rational (by that I mean boring) people do crazy things!
  And so my uncle did a crazy thing.
  He got the dead body of Edward and bundled his corpse into the boot of the car!
  There was blood everywhere it was crazy.
  Just then the dark road lit up yellow and blue.
  The police were there in force.
  A police officer slowly got out of his car and casually strolled over.
  'Let me see some ID citizen,' he said.
  'I don't have any on me right now officer,' said my uncle.
  The police officer chuckled.
  'Don't worry son I just like to say that to scar people,' he said.
  'That's very good officer.'
  'Indeed.  Anyway.  I need to ask you some questions.  Are you ready?'
  'I guess.'
  'Good!  Now are you aware that this road has just been turned into a warzone?'
  'Ah... no...?'
  'What?' the officer exclaimed.  'You mean you didn't hear all the crazy explosions?'
  'Very very bad hearing...'
  The officer smacked my uncle round the face.
  'You refer to me as sir, do you hear, son?'
  'Sorry sir.  Yes sir.  I didn't hear all the gun-firing and explosions, sir.'
  'Good man!  Shame you didn't hear the explosions.  Damn Russians!  At it again!'
  'This sort of thing happens regularly, sir?'
  'Indeed my man.  Regularly!  Every other day.  There's a war going on, don't you know son?'
  'NO sir.  But I do know now, sir.'
  'Have you seen anything suspicious tonight?'
  'Not really sir.  Saw a...  wagtail, in a tree, and they are usually asleep at this time of day.  Like I should be, sleeping and getting ready for work!'
  The police officer slapped my uncle again across the face again.  'Are you disrespecting me boy?  Are you saying you would rather be in bed, getting ready for work, than helping me solve this terrible crime?'
  'NO!  NO not at all!'
  The police officer smacked my uncle for a third time, then adjusted his tie.  'Good!  And you forgot to call me sir,  that was what the last smack  was for.'
  'Sorry sir.'
  My uncle bowed his head.
  'What's all this red stuff up and down you?'
  'O...That's just some wine I spilled before I set out on my peaceful enjoyable evening drive.  I wasn't careful, sir.  It was a good wine!'
  'The wine is all over you!  Don't you know how to drink properly?'
  'Obviously not, sir.'
  'We can remedy this!  Follow me back to the station and I will teach you the best way to enjoy wine before an evening drive!'
  'I'd rather not sir.  If it's okay with you...'
  'NO it is not!  And here is another smack for not calling me sir and another smack for your ignorance.  Now get in my car.  We are going to the station!'
  My uncle spent the whole night at the station with the officer, in a cell, where they shared a bottle of Burgundy red and watched several policemen try to eat a Chinese with chopsticks and fail.

They finally let him go in the morning.
  Now my uncle had two problems:
  1.  He was late for work...
  2.  And he had a dead body in his car.
  My uncle had to literally run to work.
  He turned up ten minutes late.
  His manager was not impressed.
  'Do you know how many people out there in the world would love to have your job?' he said.
  'I am so sorry sir I will get my bucket and broom at once!'
  The manager wasn't having it.
  He dragged my uncle aside and pushed him against a wall.
  'I shouldn't do this.  But I will.'
  The manager punched my uncle right in the gut.  'I guess you are thinking about suing me?  Go for it.  There are no witnesses and no one will listen to you, a janitor, with no money.  SO you will take it, right?'
  'Yes sir,' said my uncle, trying to get his breath back.
  'Good.  At least we understand each other.  You will do double shifts today.  I am also docking your wages for two days.  You speak against me and you'll be sacked, and find my boot up your backs side so fast Santa's home for Christmas!  Do you understand me?'
  'Yes sir.'

As my uncle was cleaning the toilets all he could think about was the dead body in his abandoned car.
  He had to get back to the damn thing!
  Anyone could find it!
  But he had to work double shifts?
  What was he to do?

That will have to wait for part 2...

New Game: Given 'em Hell!

My new game is ready to play!

You are promoted to manager of your office.

Your objective is to give your members of staff a really hard time!

You have three people working for you, Jim, Bob, and Phil, each one will react differently to your decisions.

HINT:

Drink lots of whiskey at the beginning!

You will need the help of your imaginary friend Billy!

Play Given 'em Hell

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A scream in the night - the Owl Man strikes again?

I feel like I am involved in a living nightmare that will not end.

He was in the window.
I was beyond scared!

I saw it - this looming shadowy shape:
By the way it was just standing there I could see it contained some kind of darkness.
It was sinister - and horrible.
You could see no eyes but I knew it was watching.
How long had it been there?

I moved to another room.
Anywhere away from its great dark shape.
As large and terrible as the creature looked why did it not try to enter?
Surely it could have broken through the window if that was its intention?
But it did not?
But then why was it there why was it watching me?

By the time morning arrived there were no signs that the creature had been there.
I opened the window and checked.  I looked for anything, claw marks, but there was nothing.

Of course then doubt started to set in.
I must have dreamed it the shadowy shape, right?

But then the night came in again, as it's doomed to do,
and outside in the dark I heard a sound.

An ear splitting screech!

I climbed towards the window.
Nothing is out there.
But I feel no relief.
That sound was made by no normal animal that exists on the earth.

It can only be him:
The Owl Man.

What does he want?

==============
Poem about dreams:

The mare steals dreams,
One must think hard, doubly hard,
and hold onto what is yours,
For your dreams are the most wonderful things,
and they are yours.

Resist the mare - forget his stare -
Do not let his deep eyes look into your brain,
For when he is inside those caverns he is hard to drive out.
And he will take your dreams
In bags of gold,
And swim away into the night.

Play Elfin Quest

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My Books

Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Further signs of the Owl Man...

I am not comfortable speaking about this...   But it must be said.

I  have seen him again!!

I recognise him anywhere.

A great dark shadow standing in front of the light of the world.

I knew I should never have taken the shortcut.

It was a foolish decision on my behalf.

And every fool on the earth must pay a price -
my price would be unbridled terror.

For I heard its screech at first - it was the foulest most terrible thing you can imagine.

The vile sound turned the blood cold: drove your mind insane!

And then I heard branches snapping as this vast shape started to move my way.

I knew something foul was on me so I picked up my pace.

I saw red lights flashed in the dark - I heard the screech again, and heavy breathing - and then another terrible sound, like a great blast of air - and the branches of the trees shook and leaves flew up all around me so it became more than difficult to see where I was going.

I ran madly, in any direction.

Anywhere that was free of the sight of its shadowy shape.

Then I found the Church, and shelter for the night.

I did not see that thing again.

 But I know it is out there, in the forests.

It is powerful and it is at large...

If you ever see a man standing in a tree DO NOT trust him.

He is your enemy.

Always remember this in your heart.

Play Elfin Quest

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Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Never trust a man who looks like an owl...

I fear not the hobgoblins, sneaking in the glades...
  I ignore the whisper of the haunted trees.
  I know their lies from old, experience has made me wise.
  I know the spirits that live in the roots, that drink up the water, dry up the life, sink into the wood, and speak through the branches and leaves in evil tongues.
  I know their ways.
  I am old.
  Experience has made me this way.
  I am no stranger to the dark.
  I have seen the mare charging through the night.
  I have seen the eyes gleaming in the firelight.
  Green eyes, watching me.
  Music helps keep it at bay, but it knows me and knows my way.
  I do not fear the goblins, or the whispering of the trees.
  In the deepest part of the forest, you find none of these.
  Because like me they know not to go there...
  Like me they fear the Owl Man.
  The Owl Man...
  The Owl Man...
  They know where he lives, where he sleeps at day,
  They know where he stalks at night and keep well away.
  Up in the trees he fills the air with a screech that's hard to bear, he calls up the spirit folk, and speaks in many tongues.
  He haunts our dreams at night, and he is talked of in many songs.

  Do not trust the owl man!
  He will give you sweets, and speak sweetly.  He will offer promises, and speak to you in poetry.
  Do not trust the owl man...

His eyes are vast like moons,
He watches you in dunes,
In dreams,
In worlds made of a thousand thoughts.
He lives in trees,
He lives in our hopes,
But at nighttime you are sure to be caught.
For the night is his domain,
And you are a fool should you remain,
On the open road at night.

He will sail over you, a vast cloud of doom,
Darker than night,
Fear him!
The owl man!
He is no friend.
Ignore his words and fear his eyes...

Should you ever see a man standing on a branch,
In the middle of the woodland glade,
Fear him, fear him!
Fear the Owl man!
Flee if you can!  Don't get caught in a trance!

Get away from the woods...
Seek your homes...
Lock your doors and windows...
Because he knows,
Lord of dreams,
The wild ways of the human mind.


Put light to the shadows.
Turn away not from the dark...
And pray for morning rise,
To wipe away the lies,
Of the Owl Man's power -
For he is the Lord of Dreams.



Play Elfin Quest

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My Books

Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Elfin Quest! Chose your own adventure game ready to be played!

Prepare yourself for an Elfin adventure across the magical lands of yore.

Elfin Quest awaits!

Play Elfin Quest

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My Books

Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Drunk on water?

I once knew a man from Leeds

Who used to deal in seeds...

Poppy seeds don't you know?

He told me he had a problem with water. 
  I felt so sad for the fellow.
  'Every time I drink water,' he said, 'I always get stone drunk.    It's so awful!'
  I said to him, 'That is so awful.  How do you get by without drinking water?'
  He looked so forlorn.
  'It is a struggle,' he replied.  'A desperate daily struggle, a struggle where I suffer very badly.  What I do is, whenever I need to drink, I mix my water with cockney tea blend.  It tastes strange, and makes my head go all weird, but it works and it is the only way I can drink water.
  The other day, at work, while at a meeting someone got me some water from the dispenser unit.  I drank the water because I didn't want anyone to think I was being rude.  I got so drunk and made a fool out of myself.  It was awful.  I danced around on the desk and my manager was outraged.  I tried to explain my situation but he thought I was lying, and he sacked me there and then for drunken misconduct...
  'It was a sad moment for me because I worked so hard to get that job.
  'Now I am a washer man - but whenever I get a drop of water in my mouth I get drunk and end up getting into fights with people.'

I felt I needed to help this person out.
  So I did some research. 
  And after some time I discovered this strange ancient Shamanistic method for removing Drunk Water Disease.
 
One day we decided to carry out the Shamanistic method.
  It was going to be a day of cleansing.
  So we sat out in a forest, and I read the ancient words, and blew honey dew leaves through a fire. 
  My friend inhaled the honey dew and already I saw a change come over him.
  He started to speak:
  'I feel...
  'I feel!
  'I feel happy!  Happy happy Hippo!'
  And then I watched with my own eyes as my friend transformed into a great big fat old hippo!
  Ha Ha!
  What  a sight it was!
  'I am going off to find my friends now,' said the Hippo.
  And he plodded away to a zoo.
  So he was a hippo all along, eh?
  That explains a few things.
  Now my friend could relax in a swamp with all the other big hippos, and get a drunk as he wanted because he didn't have to work anymore!

THE END!!!

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Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Almost a dinosaur

Ha ha!

Amazing!

Prehistoric beasts roaming the earth.  Imagine being stuck in a jungle.  Your plane crashes and your trapped in this place, all alone, armed with nothing but your wits.

Because that is all that you have got in, the deep jungle.

It is like a whole new world to you.  Everything in this new dimension wants to kill you -

the plants

the insects

the reptiles

Everything is after your blood.

It is a foul thing.

But your worst enemy will always be yourself.

Panic you lose your wits, and then you die. 

But there are times where it really doesn't matter how skilled you are - when you are taken out of your chosen environment you drop to the bottom of the food chain - and then survival is more about luck, than skill.

Because there is something out there in the forests.

It's bigger and badder than you.

And nothing will hold it off.

And once its got you,  it's game over, and your elements will join with the dense living underground of the underworld - that vast jungle where man has no influence and no power.

IN the jungle all is as dark as night.

For in that place there are creatures who breathed air before man, vast monsters who care not for the rule of man. 

This is there domain -

They survived the thing that killed the dinosaurs - and they will rule in the dark forests long after man has sunk under the the shadowy mountain of fate.

15 foot crocodile

---------------------

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Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Living Ghosts

You can always have a  laugh at ghosts stories...

Are they real...

Are they fake...

You can film them and everyone will just say - "Great special effects son!  Did you do that on Windows Film Maker!"

It's crazy crazy stuff...

But then there is the strange world of the sea...

O yes!

The sea is the strangest place of them all!

The last great mystery!

Who knows what is going on in that beautiful and deadly place.

And I don't mind not to know either.

I prefer the deep gloomy depths of the inner world to remain as dark and out of bounds as the confines of a madman's mind...

Living ghosts...

PS

New game in the works

Elfin Quest...

the more upbeat sequel to Witches Brew!!!!

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Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

Witches Brew !! New interactive story game...

Enjoy my interactive story...

Witches Brew game

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SWW Productions Facebook Page

Witches Brew

Flight of the owl

A strange poem about owls, space and magic...

IVAN DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE !!! - Without Death 3

This short movie is part of the Without Death series.

This part lies somewhere between the Timeline Disaster, and the first Without Death movie.

Ivan cheats death by manipulating time using his new invention - "The Time Elevator."  With the help of the time elevator, the mad scientist Ivan, and his reluctant sidekick Clyde, traverse the different ages of earth, explore some very weird time zones, and finally end up lost in White Space!

---

This is a short experimental movie i made for fun!!!

The Adventures of Inspector Prattly !!!!

He is the most skilled private inspector in England.

He's name is Prattly and he is about trying to solve a murder - keeping the criminality of the country under lock and key.

With his magnifying glass and pipe nothing can stand in his way!

Short wacky comedy video!

Alien Vegetables from outer space investigate Hippos !!!

Just an experiment, idea, I have been messing around with.

I plan to make more episodes but I am in the writing stage right now...  need to brainstorm some new ideas!

Best wishes

Sww Productions.

We dream of Lakes & Rivers

In this video I share some thoughts I have about this crazy mad mad world we try to live in...

Single grain How to Drink A whole Bottle of Whiskey POEM

A poem about how to drink a bottle of whiskey in one go.
Magic words include:
Single Bottle,
Single Grain,
Single session.

I know where the Reaver lies

A short dark poem about a mysterious entity that lurks in the dark corners of the world...

It was a quiet night...

Here is another strange flow of a poem!

MR RETYPE

What would you do if you could undo your mistakes?

???

What if you made a truly terrible mistake and your life was left in a mess?

What if you could go back and undo that mistake?

...

If given that chance would you just go back and do it all over again?