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“What’s a matter with you, don’t you know how much these guys get paid.” “Yeah, tough shit. They knew the score when they took the F***** job.” “Jesus, what a tight arsed mother F*****. Peggy, shoot this joker, will ya.” Peggy made like she was shooting Miss Cyan with her finger, who, playing along, fell to the floor screaming. “Ladies, lets go to work”, Miss Indigo led the way as the women exited the cafe. As they did, two persons entered. One was tall, one was not. Both were more than a little on the soggy side. A waiter approached the two characters, ushered them to a nearby table and asked, “What can I get for you gentlemen?” “Well”, said Henry, for it was non other, “we’d like a hot bath, some towels, a complete change of clothing...” “A copy of today's Guardian, a full medical check-up, a turbo charged helicopter...”, said Kurt the hero, butting in. “...a new personality, for my so called friend here...”, continued Henry gesturing to a damp Kurt. “...and a new haircut of my little ginger haired buddy here”, Kurt pointed to the dripping Henry, “one that preferably doesn’t hang down over his eyes like a pair of curtains.” “...the winning numbers for this weeks lottery, instant death for anyone who watches Blind Date, Stars In Their Eyes or Beadles About, an end to all the rumors concerning me and that orang-outang’...” “...a couple of gorgeous babes like 007 always has, proof that extra terrestrial life exists, and end to all wars, world peace...” “...the answers to the great scientific questions of our time, like how the universe was born? Is there life after death? And did Jesus really wear flip flops?” “...an apartment in Hollywood for me.” “...and a council flat in Dudley for me”, said Henry. The bewildered waiter momentarily lapsed into a reflective coma, then said, “But we only serve food.” “Oh well, in that case we’ll just settle for breakfast”, replied Henry without even bating an eyelid. The still startled waiter didn’t bother asking exactly what they wanted to eat, he didn’t even have a note pad or pen. “Right, two breakfasts coming up”, he said and made his leave for the kitchen. He returned a moment later with two plates piled high with bacon eggs and beans, toast, tomatoes, cornflakes, wheetabix and that other cereal that goes snap crackle and pop, porridge, orange juice, tea, coffee and two slices of ripe grapefruit. It was quite a feast. “Now that’s I call a hero size breakfast”, said Kurt. Without hesitation, and with the enthusiasm of two who hadn’t eaten in two days, Henry and Kurt got well and truly stuck in. It was quite a sight, definitely not for the squeamish. |