Wednesday, 22 May 2019

The Game of Life

I have recently adopted the idea that we are inside some kind of video game - or holographic world.
Consider this.
Everything is made up out of atoms.
But there exists nothing inside of the atom.
Therefore there is no such thing as anything being physical.
And when nothing is solid then nothing is really there. 
We are living in a dream.
You, I, the world, are an illusion and we've kidded ourselves into thinking it is the only thing.
I think it's an awful tragedy and a waste when someone takes life seriously.
Don't take it seriously.
Laugh at it!  In all things laugh.
When the game kicks you down, and spits in your face, don't stand but sit on the ground and close your eyes and laugh because none of it is there.
We come and go, we rise and fall, but whatever must befall, the game won't get me!
So don't take it seriously.
Open your heart.
Who are you?
Be that that thing you crave.  All that you need to do us to believe.   
Breath Positive in and out.

Let it into you - the good thoughts, hold them, plant them, let them take flower in your soul.

We are all one like an ocean.  One.  Right now we are a point of attention in that ocean - a ripple, a glint of sunlight, but in the end the ripples and the reflections blend together - because we will always be the ocean - ONE with it and complete.

  But when we enter this video game universe we get this idea that we are this one singular thing - and we eventually grow obsessed with the labels we have created.  We say "I am this and that and I am so important."

  NO.

If life was visible it would be a dance.

The plants, trees, water the air, all these things sway - like a they are caught up in a great rhythm.

And that is life.

So dance then!  

Be happy.  Sing!  Forget the burdens you  carry for they are not real.

It's all a game.

All a game....

Put doubt into a pretend box and cast it out of a window.

You are not an outsider, you are ONE with the world - you are life - like the tree, like the stone, like the water.  Like the air.  They all move in unison.   Move with them then.  Be not afraid.  Live like life- like the water that flows.   Put the life of the sun and the earth in your heart.  

Every star is beautiful.   

So is every living thing.

​Be happy that you are part of that cosmic empire.

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My Games

Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

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Wednesday, 17 April 2019

Tree Eye

It is a game
I feel this, more than I know
It is all a façade.
We are all so caught up in the game it would be tragic if it wasn't so funny!





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My Games

Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

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2000 year old tree

This tree really makes you think about the world, and life, and what it really is all about...










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My Games

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

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Friday, 22 March 2019

The circle of madness

Who am I to know its weaves -
Or where its fronds do twine:
Where its tendrils grow...
Deep in the mind...
The darkness,
The Space...
The universe
Around and around it does not sleep:





My Games

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

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Saturday, 16 March 2019

The Amazing Mr Carnival Man


The Amazing Mr Carnival Man

You can take an illiterate 30 year old man, a man with the mind of 18 year old, who can barely utter a few sentences outside of a mumble, a man whose only talent appears to be his ability to holler curses, vulgar and distasteful, with a brain span of about five minutes, you can take that man body and soul and transform him into a poet in about five years –
- Give or take.

Here is the trick…
Lock him in an empty room.
Give him only food and water.
Nothing else.
Never speak to him.
Never see him.
Leave him with nothing except himself.
In the years to follow that man will pass through four stages:

ANGER

DESPERATION

DEPRESSION

ENLIGHTENMENT

Before he entered the room he had no dreams.
Now he lives in dreams.
Now he feeds not on bread and water, but on his mind, on his soul.
He feeds on himself.
He draws nourishment from his mind.
Now he is a poet – and an artist like no other one Earth!

PART 1

He had it all…
His own business.
A good sized house.
Lots of land.
A swimming pool.
Plenty of money and plenty of enemies…
“I am like a piece of meat in a pool full of piranhas,” he told the reporters.
And they came for him, those piranhas and they ate him to the bone…
‘I’ve got to get out of this damn country.’
‘But my dear friend there is a way,’ said Silus. ‘I have given you the way long ago but you have ignored me. You could afford to ignore me back in the day. You can’t anymore. Will you listen to me?’
As far as hope was concerned Greg was a starving man – a cornered rat stuck at a dead end, a man with no options. He agreed to listen.
‘Five years ago I took ten thousand dollars with me to the Philippines, married a local girl and became a citizen. I bought a house and a car. Ten thousand dollars in the Philippines makes you a very rich man. You can buy anything you want. You can live like a king!’
Greg sat listening intently to his friend.
Silus had this voice that sounded so convincing. He could make you believe in anything! If he told you he had found a way to turn ordinary rocks into golden nuggets you would believe his word without question.
‘DO you know what else I did with my money? I built a studio. I display art. I love art as you know. Underground art. Dark art. It’s my thing. I have purchased many of the works of Sgt Baroos, and Gier Toffman. Their works are like the interior of a complex brain. When I think of the inside of a brain, and of course I refer to human imagination, I imagine a huge house with a spiral staircase inside going up and down forever. That is what I say in the dark swirls of their art.’
His passion was inspiring.
He made the life he lived abroad sound like a perfect little dream.
Greg wanted a slice of it!
Greg decided to stab his friend with a question.
‘How much do you think I would need to become a citizen and settle down?’
‘How much money can you get your hands on right now?’
‘I’ve got two thousand. That’s all.’
‘That’s enough,’ said Silus. ‘That’s about twenty thousand. If you are that keen to go, then you can leave with me. I’m catching a plane in two weeks once I have finished business here. You can stay in my studio. You will have upkeep – but don’t worry about that too much. I am not interested in money. But there will be one or two tasks I will want you to carry out.’
To the ears of a desperate man like Greg the offer sounded too awesome to decline.
His friend was willing to put him up in his studio rent free!
So he would have a few tasks to carry out?
So what?
Greg wasn’t afraid of hard work.
So he accepted the offer.
‘Then mu friend when you return to the Philippines I will go with you!’
And so the date was set and the deed was done.
Greg’s fantastic journey saw him flying halfway across the world to the city of Manila.
From there they took flight to the archipelago of Milas, and then after a five hour trip inside this tight little vehicle the locals called a Jeepney they made for the local town of Malatas.
But this was not the end of the journey.
It was time to do some backpacking.
They left Malatas on foot, heading in the direction of a great rise in the land.
Silus pointed to the hilltop and said to Greg, ‘That is where I live! Let us make haste!’
It was a long and dirty journey which lasted three days.
All Greg could think in all those days of hiking was how far off the beaten track they were.
Why weren’t they following a road or a path?
Why were they cutting their way through the wilderness?
Surely there had to be a safer swifter route to home?
But finally the shrubbery subsided and they saw it!
The villa, stood against the warm blue sky – tranquil among the trees like a painting.
This was the home of Silus. They had finally reached their destination!
Silus stood at the doorstep and said to Greg, ‘Let me welcome you to my abode. My home is now yours. It is good to have a new worker living here with us!’
When Greg stood on the balcony and saw, properly, for the first time, the scene of turquoise sea, and green flecked islands, Greg truly felt he had made the right decision to flee his country.
He felt in his heart that he had found some kind of redemption.
It was like his worries were finally over!
How wonderful!
Silus slowly appeared from the back room, and stood at his side on the balcony. He was sipping whiskey while letting his eyes fly across the gorgeous view. ‘I often wonder why I live here,’ he said. ‘Then after a few months in England, I return and then I am reminded why I chose to plant my roots here. My hotel in London has a window looking upon a sight filled with block after block of gargantuan stone. Each window block has a thousand windows with a thousand eyes looking out in all directions. I see them, looking all about and yet looking at nothing, because there is nothing to actually see out of those windows. There’s just a lot of noise, that’s all. A lot of noise that drums inside the skull. It drums away inside endlessly without stop. It never loses energy because it is constantly supping away at the essence of your soul. You grow sick without knowing it. Then I stand on this balcony, see that view right here, see the real world, and I am cured. It’s the same for you right now I imagine, Greg? You didn’t realise you were sick a few days ago but I imagine that you do now? Don’t worry about it. Breathe in that air. Relax! You are finally free! Enjoy the cure. See the world as it is. This is your new life now.’
Greg breathed it in.
Good times were ahead!
His soul breathed lightly and his heart was glad.
Silus patted Greg on the shoulder. ‘Time to get to work,’ he whispered.
‘Yes I am ready to earn my keep,’ said Greg.
‘I am glad you understand the score between us,’ Silus replied. ‘I helped you, and now you will help me. Tit for tat if you will.’
‘I am ready to work,’ said Greg. ‘You got me out of nasty mess. You have given me a new life in this country far away from any of my old enemies. I am in certainly in your debt.’
Silus smiled.
For some reason the smile made Greg feel uncomfortable.
He didn’t know why.
Silus had the look of contempt.
Greg had never seen his friend hold such a look before.
Now Greg started to think very deeply about things.
Lots of thoughts were racing around inside his head.
How long had he known Silus?
Answer?
He didn’t know!
He couldn’t remember!
Did he know him enough to trust him?
Did he trust him at all?
Had Greg agreed to pack up and leave abroad with Silus because he was panicking?
Had he really thought any of this through?
The answer?
NO!
That was all the voice in his head screamed:
NO NO NO!
Something about this is not right!
‘You are indeed in my debt very much so,’ Silus replied. ‘And all debts must be paid in full. That is the policy in my house. As long as you understand this, Greg, we will get along quite well.’
Greg retired with those words in his head – “You are in my debt. All debts must be paid in full. Understand this, Greg.”
Greg couldn’t sleep.
This new sense of dread kept stinging his conscious mind.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in trouble.
Finally morning arrived, hot and humid and full of the sounds of birds and beasts, and Greg was called into the living room.
There Silus told him that he had a task ready for him to complete.
Greg was so tired but he agreed to go along with things.
‘Alright what must be done?’
Silus called for his Filipino servant Penchy Gisborn. The dwarf stepped into the room bowing before his master, but as he swept Greg by he gave the man a strange dark look.
Silus now addressed Penchy directly:
‘Penchy! Let me introduce you to Greg. He is your servant from now on. He is to be put to work in the fields. You will oversee his labour, and provide additional tasks if need.’
‘I understand master,’ said Penchy.
Penchy looked at Greg and sneered. ‘You are my servant now, boy.’
‘You are free to beat the man if you feel it is necessary,’ said Silus, to Greg’s surprise, he spoke that sentence quite casually to his dwarf servant.

Silus farm grew coconuts.
The warehouses were full of busy people jostling and shouting, buying and selling.
It was loud and smelt bad
Greg was quite out of his depth.
Penchy stood next to Greg laughing.
He was enjoying Greg’s discomfort. He held a stick up to Greg’s throat. ‘I expect you to sell fifty coconuts by the days end, or I feed you to komodo dragon!’
And he laughed O my how he laughed!
All Greg could in that situation was panic…
And he sol no coconuts.
Penchy sighed, tutted, and started to shake his head.
‘It’s punishment time for you my boy,’ he said.
Greg’s heart was in his mouth!
What punishment had this dwarf in mind for him?
Just the thought of this alone was too terrible for him to bear.
Greg tried to plead his case to the dwarf.
‘Please,’ he started. ‘I am new to this and I don’t know what to do! At least train me? Tell me what to do! We can start again tomorrow.’
‘I give no second chances to you,’ Penchy replied. ‘Punishment will do you good! I punish you right away!’
Penchy took a very forlorn Greg towards a barn full of giant snakes!
Greg counted at least ten of these terrifying reptiles.
‘You will sleep here for the night,’ Penchy told him. ‘I will lock the gate and you will stay here with these beasts, in the dark!’
‘But they will kill me!’
‘You will fight! Penchy fight snakes! Penchy work alone on the coconut farm. Snakes attack me all the time. And dragons! They attack me. They try to kill me. But Penchy fight. I have scars,’ he rolled up his sleeves and showed the great scars on his arms.
His index finger had been severed by a giant lizard.
He revealed that his left leg was made of wood – a crocodile had at him, but Penchy , versatile slippery Penchy, escaped the iron grip of the monsters jaws.
‘My right eye is made of glass see,’ he said to Greg.
Greg saw the fake eye.
The eye was red, like a lunar eclipse.
‘Great cat attack! Penchy alone. Fight the beast. It take out my eye. But Penchy does not run. Penchy bight with teeth, like a savage. Penchy win. Penchy live to speak another day. Penchy work hard on Lord Silus farm. Penchy bleed for Lord Silus. Now you bleed for Penchy!
‘I beg you not to do this to me!’
But Penchy wasn’t listening.
He had no mercy in his heart for Greg.
‘You go in barn now!’
Greg was no going inside that barn.
Not for anything.
Run.
Run!
He ran.
But where could he go?
He was alone and lost in a land that was alien to him.
And Penchy knew the countryside.
It was not long before Penchy found him, collapsed, exhausted, and shaking with terror.
Penchy got together a few of his boys and they carried Greg back home.
There, in his house on the hill surrounded by the beautiful turquoise sea, Silus was waiting.
He was not happy with Greg.
He was holding a glass of wine in his hand, and poured the contents out on Gregs head.
‘You are a fool Greg,’ he said. ‘I expected more from you.’
‘I don’t know how to sell coconuts! And I can’t fight snakes! Come on man! You know this!’
IN a fit of anger Silus snapped, and tossing his wine glass onto the floor he grabbed Greg by the hair of his head and pulled the man’s left ear to his mouth.
Then he hissed, and spoke:
‘Damn you! Ungrateful dog! I take you in. Save you from the lone sharks after you the money lenders sold the loan they gave you. They were going to gut you like a fish if they got their hands on you. You would be dead now if it wasn’t for my generous heart giving you a second chance at life. I gave you so much! A roof over your head and good food and drink! All I asked was that you worked for these goodly things I have given you. I give you good honest work so that you had the chance to repay me! Is that too much to ask? I believed in you Greg! I had hopes in you. And then you ran away from me. Damn you! Poor Penchy had to send his men to hunt you half way across the island. They walked miles, so that they could find you and drag you back to me like so worthless animal. You cost me time, Greg, and like in all business time is money.’
Silus let go of Gregs hair, and walking to the other side of the room he sighed. ‘I will pay you back now, Greg, for the time you have cost me. I will pay you back double for the money I have lost today.’
Silus turned to Penchy the dwarf and nodded his head.
He had given him a sign.
‘Throw him in the pit. We will see how long he lasts without food water or company.’
Penchy grinned like some demon of old, and gleefully snatched Greg up with his arms, and with strength that seemed almost impossibly inhuman for a man of Penchy’s small stature, carried Greg over to the edge of the pit, and through the man down into the darkness!
When Greg reached the bottom of the pit he hit his head on the hard ground and fell unconscious.
Penchy stood there at the edge, and spar on Greg. ‘You try to climb up again boy and I beat you freely. I beat you till your legs fall off! Haha!’
Penchy laughed like a mad dog before retreating into the darkness beyond.
So there was Greg at the bottom of the pit, trapped in the dark alone.
It was the worst kind of situation anyone could find themselves.
When Greg finally awoke, opening his eyes to see absolutely nothing, he panicked!
Was this some kind of purgatory?
Then his memory came slowly sliding back and then he saw it all and knew where he was.
It was the end of the road, Greg knew it.
He felt so foolish!
Why had he trusted Silus?
He asked himself that question again and again.
There was only one answer.
He had been stupid.
Utterly stupid and now he was paying the price.
A harsh price but that was just the way of the world.
No second chances.
Make one mistake and you’re finished.
Days would go by.
Food was thrown down to him from above. So Silus still wanted to keep him alive.
Greg couldn’t understand why this was so.
Why torture him in such a way?
Why leave him to rot in the dark for such a long time.
Absolutely nothing made sense anymore.
After a few weeks Greg stopped trying to understand.
He’s lot now was the darkness.
Darkness inside.
Darkness outside.
That was it.
More weeks went by, and then something strange happened.
The despair that Greg felt evaporated.
He had grown used to the darkness.
After another few weeks he actually began to feel that he rather liked it.
At least at the bottom of the pit, with constant food being thrown down to him, he had nothing to worry about!
And then after the passing of more time, now weeks months and years had become one, Greg made a friend in the dark.
Greg couldn’t remember how they started talking.
It felt like his new friend had always been there, not just in the pit, but with him at his side on his journey of life all along.
He just hadn’t bothered to say ‘hi,’ not until the pit – and well now there was no one else to speak to, so he might as well speak up to the friendly soul he shared the darkness with.
He was called the Face of Fate.
‘How long do you intend to stay in the pit?’ said The Face.
‘I thought that much about it,’ Greg replied. ‘As long as I have to I suppose.’
Then The Face asked him some questions.
‘Do you want to be free?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know what being free is.’
‘Do you feel like a prisoner?’
‘All the time. Even before the pit I felt like I was in a cage. I couldn’t go anywhere. I had enemies on all sides. I don’t think I can be free.’
‘Do you like being a prisoner?’
‘I don’t like it. It’s just there is nothing I can do about it.’
And The Face asked Greg once more:
‘Do you want to be free?’
This time Greg answered: YES.
‘I can help you,’ said The Face.
‘Can you free me from the pit?’
‘I can free you from EVERYTHING.’
‘Help me.’
‘I will help you, Greg. But you must help yourself first. Are you willing to let go of everything you know to be real?’
‘Nothing is real to me anymore,’ Greg replied.
‘Open your mind, Greg. Let me enter your brain – and the journey will begin.’
‘How do I do that?’
‘Lie down and relax,’ said The Face. ‘Think about NOTHING! Just relax. Let all thoughts fly away!’
Fly away!
Fly away!

When Greg opened his eyes again he saw a thousand million colours…
That is to say Endless colours.
Colours going on forever into the abyss so that even the abyss was full of colour.
Colours that had no name.
Colour had no meaning in this land.
It was almost too much for Greg to bear, to begin with, but the Face of Fate was there to pick him up and guide him.
‘Follow me!’ said The Face.
And Greg followed The Face, by many strange twists of vibrant Gloon and Cherry Splasm Bloor, up jewelled stairways of shining Floorshell, by lakes of glistening Tollandon, and by ravines filled with screams of banshees toiling in the red and yellow waves of Embriscien.
Finally they reached a precipice, the edge of the great blue Mountain of Gond, the end of their journey. The Face of Fate turned and around and said to Greg, ‘Are you ready to breath in the power of this world?’
‘I am ready for anything,’ Greg replied.
‘Know something friend Greg,’ said The Face, speaking in a solemn voice. ‘You have a good heart. Your heart will affect the power you wield. You will wield the power for good. And in turn you will do much that is good in time. But you must know that it cannot last, for there cannot be good without evil. The balance cannot be broken. One cannot be at all without the other.
‘You cannot have red without blue.
‘You cannot have stars without human minds to write them.
‘No pleasure without pain. No life without death. And no death without life.’
‘I understand,’ said Greg. ‘I am ready for the power.’
‘Are you ready to wield the power forever?’
‘I am!’
‘Why are you ready?’
‘Because I know that everything in the universe is one, a circle. Nothing ever ends.’
And The Face of Fate cried – ‘And so thou shalt wield the power!’
A streak of bright green light flowed into Greg’s eyes.
The power was leaking into his brain. Greg could feel the power flow from his mind into all his sinews. It melted his whole body into a pool of slime, and then out of the puddle pulled him back up and reshaped him from the liquid into something new.
Something completely new.
‘Greg you were but now no longer!’ said The Face of Fate. ‘Now you live and breathe as the Amazing Mr Carnival Man!’
Inside a streak of living lightning he returned to the world.
Greg no more.
Now Mr Carnival Man.
He looked at himself in the reflection of a lake.
Now he was a creature from another world!
He was a jester, with spikes, and wings, and elfin features. Beautiful and terrifying!
And he could move like a bird, but he also felt like had the strength of a typhoon, and that he could pull up trees!
He could be here there and anywhere in a streak of lightning.
‘Silus I will find you!’ he cried into the sky.
He found Silus, in his office, with Penchy and three other shady characters – business associates.
The three strangers fled in terror, jumping out of windows!
Penchy hid in a corner, and was shaking like a frightened puppy.
Carny looked down at the frightened dwarf – but could not find it in himself to take action against the man. He felt only pity for him. As evil as the man was his cruelty had never been plucked out of desire. The little man had found himself in that dark place by following a long and sad road of trauma and hardship.
Carny looked into the dwarf’s heart and saw this.
He felt the dwarf’s pain.
So Carny forgave Penchy.
‘I forgive you Penchy. Go now! Return to your family. Make haste afore I change my mind and remember the evils you did me!’
Penchy fled in terror and was never seen again.
Now that Penchy was dealt with Carny turned his bright eyes to Silus, the man who had really been behind all his troubles and pains.
The man who had tricked and betrayed him.
The man who had left him to rot and go mad inside the darkness of the pit.
It was time to have revenge and deal justice to the villain!
Carny could see fear in the eyes of his enemy.
He had never before seen Silus look this way.
His face had become a mask of terror.
Finally Silus understood the shape of things: his evil actions, deeds that had made him powerful, now struck back like a viper - the universe had turned its back on him. The sun and the moon that had once danced to his tune had sunk into the hills and now he was stooping beneath the shadow of the Amazing Mr Carnival Man.
‘What will become of me?’ he said.
Carny knew already what he was going to do long before the man asked.
And so Carny replied, ‘I will deal with you as you dealt with me.’
He grabbed Silus by the throat and drawing him to the edge of the pit, ‘Know thy evil with thine own eyes,’ and with one stroke of his hand he threw the man into the deep dark hole.
Carny stood still and waited for the screams of his enemy to end, and then walked away.
He had defeated his enemies, but there was something in his heart that began speaking to him, relentlessly pouring words in his mind. When he looked into himself he saw that it was not once voice that was talking to him inside his soul, but thousands of voices, in song, singing in unison. Like a thousand birds singing with the arrival of the sun, a thousand songs were playing in and around the harpsichord of his soul.
There were no particular words being used inside the soul at the centre of his soul, but Carney felt that he understood what the song was all about.
He was needed in the wide open world.
There was still more work to do.
And so he set out, striking suddenly like lighting whenever there was any kind of evil at work.
Anything sinister, no matter how small, how great and terrible, The Amazing Mr Carnival Man was there to smite, drive out and to avenge.
He was everywhere at every time, a stream of purity and hope being continuously transfused into a nearly deceased planet.
When the Earth had been plucked out of the slime of destruction, polished off and put back on the shelf beside the other planets, The Amazing Mr Carnival man sat aside the sun, somewhere warm and bright, so that he could look back on the world, and it was safe, and have some much needed rest.
The Amazing Mr Carnival Man slouched on his bed of eternal ebony, looking about at the stars and planets he sighed and thought: “My work is done.”
Then the Face of Fate appeared, above, below, in all directions its voice spoke. ‘It is never done!’ it said.
After that Carny spent seven months meditating on the moon. While he sat ruminating on that great rock, The Face of Fate appeared again, and started speaking out of the abyss.
He told Carny a story.
This was it:
‘I found Silus in the pit. I trained him as I trained you. Now he has emerged from the pit and has in his hands the same powers like you, only he carries the shadow fully in his heart, and so great evil is flowing through him and out of him. You must face him now! You will meet him on the field of stars where the ultimate battle will be fought.’
So Carny heard out the words of the Face of Fate, and looking up into the dark he cried out in a voice that echoed in the corners of ten thousand stars: ‘Then I shall meet him and we shall do battle on the fields of eternity!’
And so the Amazing Mr Carnival Man set out into the stars to confront his old foe.
The battle lines were drawn between the two powers between the giant gas giant Jupiter, and the invisible volcanic orb known by the Zhenevellian Sprites as the Nor Bela – Eye of the Abyss.
At the foothills of the burning mountains of Nor Bela, Silus came forth ready for the fight.
He had been brooding many long days while down inside the pit, stewing in a pool of venom, dreaming about revenge, till the Face of Fate gave him the power to try and take it.
And so there he was. Silus, with the power of evil flowing right through him.
He was as great and might as a mountain, dark than space, and his eyes burned with a fury far greater than the heart of a new-born star.
They met in the jaws of eternal doom, between the great peeks of dark energy and they wrestled like two great storm clouds.
Back and forth they went.
Forming and reforming.
But they could not defeat each other.
They just went around and around.
“I cannot beat him!”
Then Carny thought, “There is no point in this!”
And so he sat down.
And Silus continued to attack him, but he could do nothing.
Carny just sat there, unaffected.
Silus saw that there was no point in fighting his enemy, so he simply gave up and withdraw into the darkness. He was out there, in the shadow, but he did not strike back with violence.
They both realised the fight was futile
Neither was going to win – one power was never going to better the other.
So they kept apart, but still remained in the universe.
‘Why could I not beat him?’ said Cany, looking down into the flow of endless colours.
‘You can never defeat each other,’ the Face of Fate explained. ‘One for all and all for one, but not one without the other. That is impossible. There must be two, always two. Not one mightier than the other, but in balance. That is what you have seen today. Rest now, make camp in the field of stars, and be ready for the journey that will take you around the world back here again – to the point in the universe where all things and anything is real. Be at peace! Live. Dream. Walk. Rest. Sleep. This is your journey!’
Carny heard the words of his mentor, and breathed out a great gust of air, that eventually swept over the world, to be breathed in again by a billion other living things.

THE END


Also take a look at:

My Games

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

Also take a look at:

My YouTube Channel

Monday, 25 February 2019

Don't like the daytime

I!
It rolls over the glossy speck.
Hey.
Up it goes.
There it is!
Hard staring…
Beaming
Brushing up against the moving arch
Looking through wide on all sides
Maddeningly bright
But I cannot stare back
I must look down.
I must close away from it –
The worst thing is the noise it brings.
The noise is inside and out
- it echoes in my skull.
It goes it goes…
I START TO HUM
Burrahh!  Burrahh!  Nootash!
It goes goes
I hum–
FREE ME!
It goes it goes.

I don't like the clarity the thing gives.
I don't want to see it -
I don't want to know.
Hide it all up
Thank you very much squire!
Goodnight!

And then it happens.
All of sudden without my realising,
The fingers under the sky take over –
And we are back to it!
My favourite time is back on!
Hoorah!
No wide hot face fighting through,
Now it’s all silky smooth
And the sound of it…
O the sound!
It is the most wonderful thing
For then – in a thousand million lights I hear nothing!

========================================================================
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Sunday, 17 February 2019

Reach for the Glass...



Another day.
Nothing special.
So I ready the glass.

It's Mid February and there's a bit of sunlight swimming in the clouds
I feel the warmth on my face through the window
It makes me remember something...
... its on the edge of my memory -
But I lose it at the last second.
It flies away.
Maybe its for the:
That kind of thing is best left for sleeping dreams anyway.
No room for fantasy:

I Reach for the glass.


I keep returning to that window
Catch the last play of the sun.
And then I hear a tune far away...
The ice cream van!
There's no one in the old graffiti-ridden rotten city to go to it yet it plays on still.
It plays
It plays
Outside...
And inside my mind as well.
It plays louder in my brain.

It's unbearable so I reach for the glass.

The tune plays on.
There's a summer going on, somewhere, sometime.
The tune is playing.
We're skipping across the grass.
The flowers aren't dead yet.
The dew is dry but not forgotten - the day as bright as the summers smile.
We won't forget you!
We live you, morning noon and night!
We live you and we laugh!
The sun is not outside but in our hearts.
We move in a song.
We laugh because we can!
We dance because we need no reason.
We're all a song.
It's never going to end!

The tune stops.
I see the grey old walls.
I hear the police sirens.
I hear people moaning.

I take up the glass.

No regrets!

I take the glass!

========================================================================
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Friday, 28 December 2018

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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Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

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Tuesday, 25 December 2018

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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Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!

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Wednesday, 12 December 2018

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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