‘Sure it won’t be long now Freddy until you get all your red brains growing back again in luminescent bunches like bananas.’
‘I can’t wait doctor.’
‘Neither can I Fred, that’s why I’m wearing goggles and a helmet.’
And voila Scoopy, that amber brains input seems to have done the trick.
Right on cue door number three opened wide like a sore mouth at the dentist and we ran towards the office cupboard as if high on nitrous oxide. It was going to be easy from here on in because the key was already in the lock awaiting our twisting fingers, our grabbing eyeballs and eureka! Fiver notes would be exchanged. Our future fate would be sealed.
Unable to move towards the cupboard pari passu with Fred, I fell behind rather quickly. When I reached Scream’s desk, I could see Fred staring at the key in the cupboard lock ahead of me on the far side of the room - and hesitating. I was Aneas’ son Julius from Virgil’s Aeneid, running from the burning city of Troy with his father (and it seemed right, Fred felt like my father in many ways, even though he was around my age, if not a whisker younger) but I couldn’t keep up with him. Our world was going to go up in flames like Michael Jackson’s hair like the city of Troy. I could see the kindling ready in the hearth starting to crackle and before long our heads would be flaming, wired up and we’d become woof, woof, woofing canines or even mew, mew, mewing felines. However, before Fred could turn the cupboard key one millimetre we heard Doctor Scream himself rolling up the shutters outside, opening the side door of The Donut Factory and coming towards us. We raced to the canteen and spread ourselves behind newspapers and empty coffee cups. He popped his head around.
‘Lads, can you do a few extra hours after your shift? I’ve another three orders to do for tomorrow. They just pinged my email.’
In unison, ‘No problem Doctor.’
I knew what Fred was thinking straight off but before I could say a dicky-bird he said, ‘Scoopy, I’ll talk to my sister this evening.’
- Camillus John
After Tindrness
After turning love to tndr
Where you gonna find that longed for flame?
Amid the techno rave, the rat race?
Some slow burning fire so hot and tender
In a random place, by chance, why not?
Say au Natural, unplanned, amore might wait,
With no rose tinted glasses, nor eyes glazed.
- Thom Grey