Mystery Train

To the guy with the quiff who passed me on high street a while back: Who are you sweet cheeks??

I was making my way from the chemist to the car with a pocketful of amoxicillin, and this guy says as he approaches me from behind “Did you hear what that guy yelled out?  He yelled out ‘Nice Arse!’ – How rude!”  (Note to the universe – I never find this comment rude.)….It was pretty much at that moment I knew I actually did have a flicker of will to live through whatever WMD I’d picked up from the infectious diseases bin I pretty much humped for 8 hours the night a third of my family was ripped from this world.

Anyway, mystery man, not illness that felt like the other side beckoning, nor the look of abject horror on your face as you strutted up beside me and saw my deathbed complexion (responding with a look approximating the expression on Luke Skywalker’s face when Darth Vader takes his helmet off and says I’m Daddy), could prevent me noticing that you were a hunk-o-burnin’ love, and what I really wanted to yell out as you disappeared into the distance?  “Nice arse!”

Tagged as: Illustration, Slim Jim Phantom