The Remarkably Unbelievable Adventures Of
Kurt Camron
and his so called mate Henry

episode one - the gerbil that ate the rotunda

He was a typical hero. Flashing white dentures. Cheek bones permanently on display. Luminous blue eyes. Long flowing blonde hair that looked perfectly terrific blowing in the wind and which never ever got in his eyes. Designer stubble that even George Michael would gasp at and a completion that would put every spot cream on the planet out of business in an instant.

And that was just from the shoulders up. There’s no doubt the reader can conjure up an image of what the rest of him looked like.

His name, Kurt Camron, a heroes name if ever there was one. Age? He never did. Family? Nope, never needed any. Friends? Not likely, heroes are far to busy for buddy-type relationships. Home? Where ever he laid his hat really. Although unfortunately he didn’t actually own a hat, so he just sort of hung around Tipton mostly, his home, which was of course part of that cultural capital of the world, Dudley.

Sadly there wasn’t really much call for heroes in the mid-nineties, especially in the Tipton area. There was a definite shortage of swash buckling adventures that any self respecting hero would even consider leaving the comfort of his, or for that matter her, arm chair.

Until that is, one fine Spring Monday. It was on this very day that some very peculiar events began happening, very peculiar indeed.

“Hi there, my names Kurt, I'd like to apply for this vacancy please”, said our hero in an American accent, as all heroes tend to. Although being a full-time hero Kurt was unemployed in his spare time, it was an unusual hobby but he liked it.

“Hav ya had much experience with ladies make-up?”, replied the Tipton jobcentre assistant in the thick Birmingham lingo, “This job is for a sales assistant at Boots, in the beauty department.”

Kurt put his flashing teeth away and looked on bemused. He re-examined the job number on his card, “Oh I’m sorry my mistake”, said he, “Its job number 432/AL”.

The assistant keyed the new number into the computer system, “A flower arranger at Mrs Bloomers Florist’s”, she read off the computer monitor in an unnecessarily loud voice that no one within a ten mile radius could possibly fail to hear.

“Aaah, no, try 433/AL”, beads of sweat began forming on Kurt’s brow, his reputation as a bonifide hero was on the line here.

“Head Matron at Death Awaits You Rest Home, Ooo yes I can just picture ya in the uniform”, she said, enjoying Kurt’s embarrassment.

“Sshhh, do you have to talk so loud, look, there’s obviously been some computer malfunction so I’ll come back later on”, lied Kurt who chose that moment to make a swift exit.

“Hold on how about this one, its just come in, sounds right up ya street, Door to Door Sales person...”, Kurt momentarily turned in his tracks, “...selling ladies sexy lingerie.” The sarcastic assistant could suppress her giggles no longer, breaking out in a fit of laughter so strong she fell backwards off her chair.

Kurt made with a fast getaway, still hearing the woman’s inane tittering in his ear. Red of face and sweaty of armpit he thrust open the door and walked straight into a man disguised as one of those Munchkins out of The Wizard Of Oz.

At least Kurt thought the man looked like a Munchkin, he didn’t really get a chance for a second look because just then things started becoming very fuzzy. This probably had something to do with the fact that he’d just collided, groin to head, with the very same pint sized gentleman.

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