Don't try this at home

Don't Try This At Home

"Hide," said Sean.

Pete didn't need telling twice. With neither a look to the left or the
right he nipped into the nearest doorway. A bell rang over his head and
he was inside a shop.

"Phew," said Pete. "That was close."

"You're telling me," said Sean.

Outside in the street they had seen the old man who had sold the
attach? case of mini-people to Pete. The old man had looked like he was
looking for something. He'd had a pair of binoculars around his neck
and the four square corners of a folded up map in his left hand.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" said a voice behind Pete. He spun around.
It was out of the griddle pan and into the pyre.

Standing in front of Pete was a tall women with the largest breasts he
had ever seen. They were so large they had intricate matrixes of
support scaffolding under each one to help them defeat the common laws
of gravity.

"I said, can I help you?" said the woman. She pushed a button on her
side and the breasts moved to the left and to the right and then a
twinkling of fairy lights came on on each one. It was an effect.

"Um?" said Pete. He was often flustered by women. He knew he wasn't
the kind of man to hit on the opposite sex but at the same time he
realised that women wouldn't know this. He was caught between
camaraderie, which would have been his natural inclination, and not
wanting to appear like someone who was trying to score, which was the
furthest thing from his mind.

"You are looking for a bra I take it?" said the women.

Now Pete noticed the walls. They were floor to ceiling with bras. Big
ones, bigger ones, and ones that wouldn't look out of place at a sea
scout jamboree sail sale.

"I'm sorry," said Pete. He shrugged and scratched his arse again. "I
don't wear them myself."

"Then perhaps I can interest you in a pair of breasts," said the women
with the air of a lion circling its defenceless pray, "They're going to
be quite the rage this Summer with young men of a certain age. If you'd
like to step this way."

This way, the way the woman was indicating with a spinning forearm was
under a large bulbous neon sign. Boob Rack it said.

"Um, no thank you," said Pete. "No breasts today." And he sidestepped
out of the shop with another clattering of the bell above his
head.

"I thought we were done for then," said Sean.

"Yeah me too," said Pete. "I really don't think I'd suit breasts. And
I know Jo wouldn't be best pleased."

"I meant the old man," said Sean.

"Oh yeah," said Pete. "That too. I wonder what he's looking
for."

"You fool," said Sean but wouldn't say any more on the matter.

****

Pete rarely entered Chinatown these days. As he stepped under the red
and black vaulted gate the old atmosphere came back to him. Kids with
slanted eyes pulled fat businessmen on rickety rickshaws. Dogs fought
over scraps at dustbins. Long legged Asian babes in Geisha bikinis
stood in badly lit doorways beckoning to the passing trade. Pete
stopped to get his bearings.

"I just wanted to say," said Sean.

"Yes?" said Pete.

"Thanks for helping me."

"That's ok," said Pete. "As long as we're home be teatime. I'm cooking
the tea tonight."

"You're serious about that, aren't you?" said Sean.

"Perfectly," said Pete. "Jo and I haven't been getting on well
recently. I don't want to do anything else to annoy him."

"Well," said Sean, "once I've got the other scientists back then we'll
be out of your hair."

"Great!" said Pete but at the back of his mind was a thought that
wasn't great at all.

He asked himself what he was doing, why he was helping this
mini-person. He had his own problems; Jo, his debts. And what about the
five hundred pounds he had paid the old man? He needed that money back.
He was about to ask if he would ever see it again when Sean
spoke.

"Can you get a bloody move on and not stand there like a gorm."

"Right," said Pete and he set off into the heart of Chinatown. From
somewhere came the sound of gunshots.

*****

"Are you sure you know where you're going?"

This was the third time Sean had asked that question. Pete was just
about to about to purchase a lychee, peel it, suck it dry and place the
remaining stone in Sean's mouth when he stumbled upon the right
direction. Above his head was a sign, old and rusting. It said,
'Costumes for the Recently Gentrified'. That was the path that
Caruthers and him had been set to embark upon before Pete had met Jo
and him and Caruthers had gone their separate ways.

"Nearly there now," said Pete, and he took a left, going in the
opposite direction from which the sign was pointing. If Pete knew one
thing, he knew Caruthers. He was a man of mystery.

The shop was at the end of a narrow alleyway. It had two windows, one
door and one portcullis. As the portcullis was leaning rusting and
unused against the side of the shop, Pete entered no problem.

Inside the shop were racks of clothes, a long counter, a man. Pete
knew at once that the man wasn't Caruthers. For a start Caruthers had
been black and six foot two. This man was four foot five and green, not
a lime green but a sickly green that you often found at the end of a
sailor's life.

"You rang m'lud?" said a loud booming voice. Pete was surprised. The
voice unmistakeably belonged to Caruthers and also the greeting.

"What happened to you?" he said. "You used to be black."

"Is that all the welcome I get after?" Caruthers ostentatiously looked
at his watch, "?.five days?"

"It's been over a year," said Pete.

"A year!" said Caruthers. "And you said you were only nipping out for
a packet of fags."

"I never said fags."

"You did," said Caruthers. "I remember it as if it was only
yesterday."

"Well, it wasn't yesterday," said Pete, "so that proves you wrong.
Look Caruthers, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch but I need your
help."

"And you think you can just waltz back in here and get it?" said
Caruthers.

"It wasn't a waltz," said Pete. "It was more of a Tango." And then he
pulled out his trump card. He slapped a foreboding grin on his face and
said the words. "You wouldn't want the swizzle stick incident of '95 to
get out, would you?"

Caruthers blanched. Actually Pete thought white suited the new
Caruthers better than green but he pushed home his advantage. "If you
help me now then the whole swizzle stick incident will be dead and
buried. No more will be said about it, and I mean forever."

"Then what can I say," said Caruthers, "but step into my
boudoir."

Caruthers spun on his heel and disappeared through an oak door that
had been covered by a long black sheet.

"What's the swizzle stick incident of '95," whispered Sean.

"No idea," whispered Pete. "I just made it up. Me and Caruthers we're
always making up stories. It's one of the things I miss about him, the
amateur dramatics. It was kind of our piece de resistance. I knew he'd
help and that I didn't have to ask. Caruthers is just about the best
friend I've ever had."

"So why don't you see him anymore?" said Sean.

"It's a long story that I can tell shortly. I fell in love."

"I don't understand," said Sean.

"Me neither," said Pete. He shrugged and gave his arse a big scratch.
"Me neither."

****

The room was large and temperate. Along each of the walls were ranged
body parts, heads, arms, torsos, fingers and toes. They weren't nice
body parts however, these were body parts that had obviously belonged
to the old and infirm, the operated on and the recently deceased. The
rumours that Pete had heard about Caruthers were true. He was dealing
in black market spare parts. Sometimes people needed to change from
what they were and they didn't care what to. Sometimes a change was a
good as a holiday. Sometimes better. The police might find you on
holiday but they had more trouble finding you with a new head.

Pete quickly explained the story so far. He had bought an attach? case
of mini-people from an old man in the toilet of a Dial-a-Spud. His
house had been broken into by Godzilla and Godzooki and all but one of
the mini-people had been kidnapped. The mini-people were scientists who
had developed a stunning new growth hormone. Pete had vowed to help
Sean, one of the mini-people, to get the other scientists back. He had
to be home by teatime.

"To carry out my plan," said Pete, "I have to look like a
monster."

Caruthers scratched his head. "I don't rightly do monsters."

"You haven't done too badly on yourself."

Caruthers laughed. "Oh this little green thing. I've leant my big
black body out for the evening. The green dwarf wanted some fun and he
was prepared to pay. I'm not too sure that I can help you though, what
kind of monster did you want?"

Pete shrugged. "Well, I never was the ideas man. I was hoping you
would think of something."

Caruthers walked backwards and forwards a bit and then he
smiled.

"Hang on," he said. "I might have just the thing."

"Great!" said Pete.

Pete watched Caruthers disappear into the mist at the back of the shop
and then watched him reappear lugging something long and pale behind
him.

"What's that?" he said unsure.

"It's a dongle," said Caruthers.

"What's a dongle?" said Pete.

"You know, a picadillio."

"A what?" said Pete.

"A penis," said Caruthers. "Came from a lame elephant. You could be
monster cock. Has a ring to it, don't you think?"

"It wasn't really what I was thinking," said Pete. "Besides if I
wanted to walk with that thing I'd have to put a wheel on the end of
it."

"Good point," said Caruthers. "And I sold my last cock wheel the other
day. So what were you thinking, give me a ball park figure and I'll see
what I can do?"

Pete shrugged. "I don't know. Frankenstein. The Hulk. Jaap
Stam."

"Got you," said Caruthers. "Hang on a sec."

"Cripes," said Pete when Caruthers came back.

"It is a bit gruesome, isn't it?" said Caruthers.

"I'll say," said Pete. "I'll just have to avoid reflective glass and
clear puddles."

"So you want it then?"

Pete glanced down at Sean. He was nodding his head quickly.

"Go for it," he said. "In for a penny in for a pound."

Caruthers inserted the specially bent coat hanger in Pete's ear and
detached his current head and then reapplied the new one.

Kitted out as he was Pete felt that he was ready to rumble. It was
time to go to the Monsters Ball Inn and get the low-down on Godzilla
and Godzooki.

to be continued?.