Written by Pointer
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Tags: Angel, Baby

Sunday, 11 February 2007

The continuing epic serial novel of F Buller appears eventually on the Satirezine of TheSpoof.com

Chapters One - Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Perhaps there will be occasion for more passages to the past or even forays into the future but for now let us return to the sun-bleached Mercury Villager that for a change was actually moving under its own steam (Sometimes it takes a village to push the Villager).

Our trio was on their way to the Vicious Cycle, the town's cheapest bike repair shop. Buster nervously chattering about the usual nothings - his were rarely sweet and never whispered - the bike, Paz en la tierra y buen voluntad a todos was her full name, lay nursing her punctured rear and the baby Angel in what resembled her characteristic lotus position was the picture of serenity as she seemed to stroke the wounded Paz.

Upon arriving at the rundown shop, the gentleman that he was suddenly trying to be, Buster carried the bike into the store. Seconds later he appeared to beg for money to pay for the repair.

He took the lovely lady's saddlebag from the van and awaited the repair in the shop. While rummaging for the wallet - a striking genuine white and black dappled Jersey cowhide repository for cash, cards and all manner of memorabilia - Buster came across what appeared to be a diary. After checking to see if he was being watched over by his angelic passenger, the always curious comic read the following randomly selected passage:

"Will I ever feel at home here? I know others try and I try hard too but too often strange is all I feel...."

The nosey clown - his was bright red but from gin - chose another page:

"I am working on perkiness and it is harder than you would think. I say to myself OK now get out a bed and think perky but it is so cold on these desert mornings and it is soooo toasty under the nice warm covers that all my perky intentions just, well, unperk!"

From the poignant to the peculiar,our usually calloused card found himself slightly charmed by the seraphic script in the dime store diary of the child-like cherub at meditative rest in his filthy van.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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