After fifteen
cracking months in the jungle, David decided it was time to return home. He had
seen twelve different types of tropical toad during his one-point-two-five year
adventure. And that was three more than he ever dared dream. He was also to be heading home with a new best friend. They’d met one day when David was
scratching his back on a knobbly tree. The tree in question served as a den for
Conrad Carlton the clever cat, and the two became firm friends.
Conrad Carlton had
led a charmed life. He was aged 50 human years when he served in the Falklands
and has increased that total since. This, it should be said, is no mean feat
when you consider what Conrad considers an average day. He gets out of bed at precisely
noon, drinks three bowls of chilli-flavoured milk and then plays with fire and
performs daredevil moves until bed. The bed he sleeps in was bought from the
Imaginary Pet Shop, near Boots.
The Imaginary Pet
Shop is one of those places where dreams can come true. But it also facilitates
nightmares coming true too. Unfortunately its ratio is something like
dreams/nightmare = 1/10. One such nightmare scenario happened when a girl
called Sarah bought a grey hamster from the store back in 19-oh-6. At first
everything was normal but after a bit the hamster went mental, escaped from its
cage, and snapped Sarah’s neck off.
This hamster,
Derek he was called, scarpered after decapitating his owner. He made a beeline
for the airport, as he knew the feds would be on his ass. He didn’t care where
he went; he just had to put distance between himself and the bloody mess he’d
left behind. It’s tough work at an airport for a hamster, as you can imagine.
But after a few hours of zigzagging here and there he managed to board flight
BA345, where he met a lovely air stewardess called Jant.
The end
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