Time for a walk before I get into any more trouble. Wish me luck! I'm a potential martyr to every drunk, drug addled, deluded commuter with a mobile phone and an empty, bubble-packed ego. As I toddle along, as the close to the verge as I dare in my [charity shop] expeditionary boots. What with killer deer bugs, killer slugs and wolves roaming wild it might actually be safer on the asphalt!
In breaking news: It seems the Danish killer slugs have competition from invading, edible snails. The expert's advice was to take them out with a shovel or garden spade. So I am wondering exactly how large these snails are supposed to be! I have warned The Head Gardener that it will be her responsibility to act as referee in the coming battles as a sort of token, International branch of the Red Cross. Though it seems highly likely to be a rather one-sided affair if the snails can crush the slugs simply by rolling over them!
Well, that was a complete flop! I arrived at the marsh pond on cue. The costume department had me kitted out as the local tramp. I needed no earpiece prompter to help me with my lines as I prepared for my greatest walk on part..
But will it fly?
When suddenly there were more evil extras, all around me, than a bad dose of LOTR. A thousand immature ducks burst into uproarious laughter at my outlandish garb. As a cross between Dr.Who and Worzel Gummidge, I had thought myself suitably attired for my part. But they were having none of it! So I took a quick snap of the set [for posterity] and beat a hasty retreat. Before there were fatalities to their withering strafes of derision.
Just in time too, as I spotted a Colossal class, [Claas?] agricultural spraying machine. It was very obviously headed my way with evil intent. That certainly explained the strange odour as I entered the field track. At first I had thought it was just me staying in character. But, with my poor sense of smell, it might well have been another, dead cat. So, all in all, not a great morning so far. Far too busy for a ride today.