Brian's Brief Encounters

This is an Unofficial Kaffe Fassett fanzine. Brought to you from a Leafy Suburb of the Throbbing Metropolis.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Kevin's World

“Brian receiving?”

Excellent timing. Just as I was investigating the contents of a greasy bag.

“Mmmm?”

“Can you back up unit X?”

“Whatheygot?”

“Galactic traveller having a violent episode. He’s seven foot tall.”

I guess that qualifies as ‘needing back up’ then. As we threaded our way through Lilliput towards Gulliver’s house I imparted some wisdom onto my able young assistant.

“He’ll never be that big. People always exaggerate.”

We found unit X hiding around the corner awaiting our arrival. They assured me that they hadn’t heard anything and suggested a light tapping on the door would be in order. Followed by a rapid retreat and a ‘no reply’ result. Too slow, the door was flung open before we could practice our E&E tactics. I found myself staring at the chin of a middle aged Amazonian.

“It’s our son. We can’t control him.”

Dad was behind Amazon, looking over her head. After a brief resume of Kevin’s crossed wires history, I was directed to the front room. I hoped they had adopted.

Among the chaos that had once been a homely room was a very long figure lying on the floor. With a T-shirt over his head. It seemed the satellite receiver and widescreen had survived the onslaught. Late night music TV was on with the sound off. I cleared some debris off the pale green leather sofa and sat down to watch an angry looking man with lots of bling swivel his hips around, nearly in time with a number of near-naked ladies.

“You gotta fag?”

There was a suspicious looking eye peering out from over the T-shirt. I flashed the ash and lit us up. Using the largest remaining part of an ashtray, we smoked in silence for a few minutes. Kevin stared at me while I watched another angry looking man and some more semi-nudes. He had a lot of tattoos visible through his string vest and an interesting handkerchief on his head. Maybe he was from Blackpool?

We finished our cigarettes at the same time as the angry looking man gave his final mean and moody look into the camera. The picture changed to an advert for a dating service. Time to act, if only to stop Kevin from dialling a premium rate number.

“Wassup?”

“They don’t understand me. I got angry.”

“Oh.”

“You gonna arrest me?”

“Not unless you want me to.”

“Oh.”

“Wanna go see a doctor instead?”

“Yeah, okay.”

With a definite plan of action, Kevin stood up to put his T-shirt back on. At the same time proving that recessed ceiling lights do have their uses.

As we wandered over to unit X’s car I asked “You’re never seven foot, are you?”

“Nah, six ten.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think I can have the blue lights on?”

“Maybe if you ask nicely.”

As unit X sped off towards the home of the crossed wires doctors, with all of its warning equipment blazing, I turned to my able young assistant.

“See? I told you people always exaggerate.”

2 Comments:

At 8/9/05 1:48 AM, Anonymous Spike said...

ROFL.

 
At 10/9/05 7:04 PM, Blogger FunkyGibbon said...

Ta Brian, the chuckle was needed. Common sense in the throbbing metropolis? Who'd have thought it. Future copper?

 

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