Los Chimpos Ride Again
You look at the people walking past you both on the street and nobody seems to pay any attention to the octopus sitting on the pavement.
You shrug and go with it.
"Hello there," you say.
"Alright, dickhead," the octopus replies, puffing on a cigarette. "You Nutfinch?"
"I am, yes," you extend a hand. "Harry Nutfinch, detective. You are...?"
"I'm Ollie the fucking Octopus, innit?" The octopus shakes your outstretched hand with one of his tentacles. "You're wanted, mate."
"Was this message from you, Ollie?" you ask, waving the note in his face. "Did you write this?"
"Yeah," Ollie says, rolling his big eyes. "I'm always found sitting on my arsehole writing love letters to wankers. Did you get it ok? Do you love me too? Can we run away together and make sweet octo-man babies?"
"What?" you ask, regretting asking.
"Of course I fucking didn't, you mad drunk cunt."
You sigh, and lean against the wall again.
"Ok," you ask nicely. "What is going on?"
"Don't ask me, mate," Ollie says. "I was told to find Harry bleedin' Nutfinch and get him to the pub, right? So here I am and off we fucking go."
He turns, and whistles.
"Oi!" he yells. "Fly boy!"
From out of the sky comes a small cloud... no, wait.. as it gets closer you realise that it is a sheep.
A sheep with a jetpack on its back.
A sheep with a jetpack flying across the sky and towards you.
"Bah?" the sheep asks, landing neatly at beside Ollie.
"Why does that sheep have sunglasses on?" you ask, staring.
"Oh," Ollie scoffs. "The jetpack is fine, is it, but the fucking sunglasses give you pause for thought? You really are a fanny."
"Well that was my second question," you say haughtily, coughing and checking your pockets for a hip flask.
"Bah," the sheep says and you swear it sniggers. "Bah!"
"Come on, dopey bollocks," Ollie the octopus says, pulling himself onto the sheep's back. "There's room for both of us if you don't mind my tentacles up your chuff."
Could this day get any weirder?
You shrug and go with it.
"Hello there," you say.
"Alright, dickhead," the octopus replies, puffing on a cigarette. "You Nutfinch?"
"I am, yes," you extend a hand. "Harry Nutfinch, detective. You are...?"
"I'm Ollie the fucking Octopus, innit?" The octopus shakes your outstretched hand with one of his tentacles. "You're wanted, mate."
"Was this message from you, Ollie?" you ask, waving the note in his face. "Did you write this?"
"Yeah," Ollie says, rolling his big eyes. "I'm always found sitting on my arsehole writing love letters to wankers. Did you get it ok? Do you love me too? Can we run away together and make sweet octo-man babies?"
"What?" you ask, regretting asking.
"Of course I fucking didn't, you mad drunk cunt."
You sigh, and lean against the wall again.
"Ok," you ask nicely. "What is going on?"
"Don't ask me, mate," Ollie says. "I was told to find Harry bleedin' Nutfinch and get him to the pub, right? So here I am and off we fucking go."
He turns, and whistles.
"Oi!" he yells. "Fly boy!"
From out of the sky comes a small cloud... no, wait.. as it gets closer you realise that it is a sheep.
A sheep with a jetpack on its back.
A sheep with a jetpack flying across the sky and towards you.
"Bah?" the sheep asks, landing neatly at beside Ollie.
"Why does that sheep have sunglasses on?" you ask, staring.
"Oh," Ollie scoffs. "The jetpack is fine, is it, but the fucking sunglasses give you pause for thought? You really are a fanny."
"Well that was my second question," you say haughtily, coughing and checking your pockets for a hip flask.
"Bah," the sheep says and you swear it sniggers. "Bah!"
"Come on, dopey bollocks," Ollie the octopus says, pulling himself onto the sheep's back. "There's room for both of us if you don't mind my tentacles up your chuff."
Could this day get any weirder?