Private (Third) Eye - Ambling Further

With the smell of burning cafe and the tinkling of sirens in the air I turned into an alley way. I had no desire to see the boys in blue until I'd figured out what was going on. My jigsaw was missing a piece, probably an edge, and I needed to find the sofa it was under or the child whose mouth it was in. Those were metaphors. They had to be, just think how big a kid we would be talking otherwise. My shoes echoed off the walls. The urine just dripped down them. A bag tumbled out from behind a dustbin. I knew something was wrong when the bag spoke. "You with the head", (not that again), "you gotta help me." The bag looked a lot like a middle aged guy who needed a wash. "We all got problems Mr Bag and I ain't got time for yours." I wasn't being harsh. My nostrils were threatening to go on strike unless I aimed them away from him. "Buddy, please. My wardrobe. In my wardrobe." I don't know what he'd heard but I'd not been near his or any wardrobe since the hanger incident. "No, you don't understand". He'd got that right. "I'm a banker." He'd got that right too judging by the stains. "Or at least I was. They took it all and now they're going to take my house. If they do that they'll see what's in my wardrobe." This guy was either a whack job or he had something weird in his wardrobe. "What have you got in there? Tell me quick and try to aim yourself down wind." The bag opened his mouth. It could have been to answer, maybe he was just showing me his teeth, either way he didn't do anything other that grimace as a jar of jam hit him square in the eye. I looked over my shoulder just as seven or eight sponge fingers embedded themselves into the wall. The bag was clearing jam from his mouth (they really were very nice teeth) as 12 ounces of frozen raspberries peppered him. Could a raspberry pepper something? I didn't know. Before I could decide one way or the other I heard the telltale glug of a bottle in mid-flight, thrown right handed probably around shoulder height. Sherry. I'd bet the bag's life on it. I stuck out a hand and caught a Croft Original Pale Cream bottle. Mr Throwie Throwerson at least had some taste. "He's trifling with the wrong guy" I mumbled. The bag groaned. "All this for that one joke? That's terrible!" I'd had enough of this luggage. It was time to go. I took a swig from the Sherry then politely introduced the bag's head and the bottle. He'd have plenty of time to drink it when he'd woken up. I grabbed the bin lid and frisbee'd it down the alley towards the dessert fiend. Could it be the custard villain? I thought that was the was the plants leafy work. There was a lot to consider as I hot footed it to places unknown.

Private (Third) Eye - Ambling

I was walking but I didn't know where. Like a monkey skippering an old Tea Clipper I had no heading. You might say I was headless. You might but I knew what was underneath my hat. A voice rang out. "You there. The one with the head" (see). I turned as the waitress from the Usual ran up to me. I'd been here before. The thrill of action can be a turn on for some dames. I looked her up and down. Then up again. "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me honey?" Just like a shopping trolley her eyes were all over the place. "No, there's a gun in my pocket." She pulled out a piece. "It's the one that ogre had. It seemed really odd that you'd leave it there for him when he wakes up." I liked this girl. Not only was she a decent citizen doing what little she could to make a difference, she also had legs that went all the way up to her body. The great rack just made her easier to appreciate. "What's your name kid?" She flashed a ten dollar smile and pulled the trigger. She was spirited. We both stood there waiting to see what happened. "I realised the gun had blanks in it when you weren't hit at point blank range." So she was a little crazy, I wasn't going to hold that against her. "Honey I dodged those bullets." I did, I'm just that good. She took out the clip, I guess she learnt how from watching cop shows, and showed me the blank cartridge. "If he was firing blanks then where did these come from?" I lifted my right arm. There were three perfect little holes. I'm not a guy to tell tales but she swooned a little. They all swoon a little. I took the gun and tipped my hat. Always leave them wanting more. Also I'd seen that the Usual was on fire and I didn't want any part of that. I skipped away thinking for the first time this year that I really should replace this moth eaten old raincoat. I thought of the dead coffee pot. My coat deserved better.

Private (Third) Eye - Brunch

I walked in and took my seat in the Usual cafe. I called it the Usual as I ate there everyday (you come up with a better name). I had no need for the menu. Menu's are for the masses and I knew eggs and coffee were all I wanted. As I was looking around for the pretty waitress I caught her eye. She smiled at me and said "nice catch". Her false eye had been knocked loose by the gun pressed against her head. This was turning out to be an annoying couple of days. I removed my hat and stood up. The gunman, shop-gimp neanderthal idiot that he was, happened to be a giant. If I had to guess I'd say he was somewhere between a shade over 7ft and a tad under 8ft. "Now listen here fucko," I wasn't in the mood for sweet talk and my neck hurt from trying to look him in the eye, "The kind waitress has customers to serve so why don't you act like a gent and point your gun some other place." I remembered too late that at times like these it was best to give clear instructions especially when dealing with intelligence challenged, gun toting goons. He got off three quick shots, all in my general direction. I dodged left, dropped into a roll and came up to his right. Unfortunately this happened to be exactly where his gun was pointing. I grabbed a silver toast rack and waved it back and forth in front of his eyes before throwing it up above his head. Oxygen thief goons are just like dogs, children and midgets - easily distracted by shiny objects. I tapped him delicately once or two on the head with a coffee pot and he seemed comfortable enough in a heap on the floor. "No! No you fool." The waitress seemed excited about something. Turns out the now broken coffee pot only had four more days until retirement. I paid my condolences, returned the baby blue to the waitress and left. I was still hungry.

Private (Third) Eye - Tuesday Morning.

I found out where in the hell I was when I busted through a solid metal door. It wasn't easy let me tell you and I ruined a perfectly serviceable ten year old, brown pair of shoes, size 9. After I'd cleared the custard from my eyes I knew at once that the lights were not on. That was okay as sunlight was flooding into the room. When I say room I mean the window display to Selfridges. I have to admit, this was the third weirdest place I'd ever woken up. Now I'd regained my senses it was clear to me. The scattered leaves meant that plant was involved in this. The muddy boot prints told me he wasn't working alone. That stood to reason, the plant had no opposable thumbs, how would he pick anything up? Looking around I realised I wasn't alone. Peering through the window at me were two pigeons and a dustman. The dustman was fine, just a hard working Joe making a buck, but those beady little pigeon eyes were following my every move. I'd not moved yet but when I did my suspicions were confirmed. So, a plant, a guy with muddy boots and a couple of winged devils. Things were getting interesting. I took the quick way out of the shop, using a skeleton key in the shape of a mannequin to gently open the window. The pigeon's took flight as I stepped onto the pavement. For the first time in a fortnight I wished for the power of flight. Not to catch them, just to follow. I knew as well as they did, as well as every pigeon knows, they were just pawns in another guys game of chess. I guess that made me the Knight. Or the Queen but I wasn't going to pull at that thread again. I looked at the spot on my arm where my watch used to be. I was hungry so it was breakfast time.