Monday, March 07, 2005

Back In Black 

He was remarkably nimble for a man with such large hands. He could reach an octave and two on his organ, and even let Stella have a play on it too, apparently.

The eighties-style yuppie witch is back from her travels, day-glo orange and all dressed in black, like a genetically messed up Jaffa Cake going to a funeral.

I thought she was going to have a dig at me for calling out for assistance - ie. bringing in Ash, Zippee and the third guy who’s been amalgamised - rather than managing with the given resources.
In return, I would then have to tell her what I thought of her organisational skills and get all huffy about the pile of crap she’d dumped on me, with all the attendant risks of sounding like a whinging unable-to-cope bloke.

Instead, her eyes lit up like Bunsen burners on the night the school science lab burned down - which had absolutely nothing to do with me, if you were wondering. For months she’d been trying to expand her empire, and I’d managed to pull it off in a week.

“Possession is nine tenths of the law,” she sang, breaking into a little witchy dance. “This is fantastic, Tim. Nicely done.”

The staff were loaned to me in good faith by Neil, who in spite of - or should that be because of ? - being insane, I retain a certain respect and fondness for. Now Ms. Jaffa Cake is going to try to go back on my word.

I’m not going to even mention the drink problem. I’m playing it cool on that one.

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