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You know, if they told me I was going to appear so much I would have charged more…

Foodge Escapes from Buntings

Written by Mark

Foodge was sitting in the foyer of the court house rolling a durry, well with tobacco and some other funny green stuff. O’Hoo was busy talking to some official over at the counter. Foodge was in deep thought mode, why am I here, why was I born, what is my first name and you know all those things that race through you mind in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.

“O’Hoo, hoo were you talking two” speaking phonetically so O’Hoo wouldn’t understand, asks Foodge as he deeply inhales on his durry.

“Clark, I think his name was, no Clark Cell, a standard primary cell producing 1.4328 volts at 15 degrees C which consists of a mercury cathode and a zinc amalgam anode both dipping into a saturated solution of zinc sulphate” says O’Hoo.

Oh fuck off thinks Foodge. Never ask a simpleton a question that you don’t know the answer too. “Anyway pass us the scotch”. Foodge is discombobulated now(thanks Gerard, my spell checker doesn’t know it still, after all this time).

Come here lad, have a whiskey…

“Where’s the press throng?” asks Foodge as he inhales deeply on his durry. Oh yes, South Sea Islands Scotch sure does taste good in the morning.

O’Hoo runs out of the foyer onto the front steps of the court house and spy’s a group of school kids passing by on an excursion or just running away from their teachers. O’Hoo approaches them and says “Look kids, I understand that this is a kid friendly web page but can you pretend to be from the media, you know asking questions, pointing microphones and taking pictures when my mate come out from the court?”

“Um, yeah, um, yeah, okay mate! Wot’s in it for us?” says a little smart arse in the front row.

“Sausage sizzle, with fried onions and tomato sauce, all round at Buntings, oh on white bread, nothing healthy” blurts O’Hoo relating to the inner psyche of the modern generation.

“Yep, wheeze in” says the smart arse.

Foodge stumbles out of the court to face the “media throng”.

“Mr Foodge, what have you got to say about the court case?” says the smart arse kid who is getting way too much media attention.

“Well” replies Foodge “ I can’t say anything while the case is in front of the court”

“Well that’s only literally, not metaphorically”. The smart arse kid is really stating to grate and you can fucking well spell that how you want to and I’m the author.

“No more comments from me except to say the chicken schnitzel on Monday night with mushroom gravy is to die for.”

Hmm, Tastes like chicken…

O’Hoo pulls up in the Zephyr. “You drive Foodge. We are being followed. I’ve read the script”

“But I’m pissed and stoned”

“Doesn’t matter we’re fictional and anyway Gordon will get us off any charges.”

Foodge accerlates the Zephyr down the boulevard. O’Hoo jumps into the back seat and smashes out the back window.

“Why did you do that for? Emmjay will be really pissed that we went over budget.”

“I’ll get a better shot this way. Keep speeding, we are being followed by the FBI, the CIA, ASIO and worst of all the CWA” cried O’Hoo as he lets fly a few salvo’s out of the recently renovated rear window.

Foodge dodges and swerves through the back streets of Inner Cyberia as O’Hoo fires indiscriminately out the back window, trying to take care to hit any one at any time.

The FBI and ASIO cars go down when the CIA call O’Hoo on a two way radio that he didn’t know he was carrying up until now.

“Wheeze hungry” says the CIA goon.

Stop, I’m from the CIA, no the CIB, no the CIC, no the CID…

“Take the next left and into the McJacks drive through” says O’Hoo thinking he should have added and extra T and said thought. So many questions so little time.

Everyone is going through the drive through, try saying that after a few drinks but the CWA ladies want a Fillet-O-Fish so wheeze is all held up. Wears the pleece when yous want them. Don’t you just love phonetics.

The race continues but O’Hoo is a bit too sharp for his opposition and quickly takes out the CIA car as they munch on their McJacks. The CWA are a different story. O’Hoo fires another round of high powered tracer bullets into their car from loaded magazines thanks to granny, an eternal pacifist. Don’t you love her. Peace man.

O’Hoo and Foodge drive into the car park at the Pigs Arms with the Zephyr looking in bad shape with bullet holes and smashed windows, however Foodge won’t budge until he has finished his Big McWhopper, fries and slushie. “Let’s get the fuck out of here” screams O’Hoo as he finishes his chicken burger and Coke drink.

Apparently it’s a restaurant

Foodge and O’Hoo run into the bar avoiding eye contact with Emmjay. Big M and Algernon cock there weapons and the three sisters, Yvonne, Barbara and Shoe just keep studying the form guide, totally disinterested in the shenanigans. The CWA drive straight through the front doors and get out of their car opening fire with their weapons. Big M, Algernon and O’Hoo return fire and bullets are flying everywhere.

Meanwhile back in the kitchen granny is really peeved. Emmjay walks through the fire fight into the kitchen and says to granny “Lets have a bake off so we can stop this madness.”

Granny walks into the bar and yells “Stop. Stop now.” Funnily enough everyone stops. “Lets have a scone bake off to sort this out.”

All the cooks head out to the kitchen and start cooking. Scones, cream and jam are served to everyone. Hmm, all taste great. Granny says “Well, what was this agro all about?”

“Dunno” says the lady from the CWA.

“Baby, what baby” cries Foodge.