Los Chimpos Ride Again
You walk away from the weird characters you've spent the morning hanging around with, puzzling at why nobody else seems to care that there is a talking Octopus sitting on the ground at Covent Garden, and you walk a few hundred yards until you find an inviting looking pub.
You step inside, nod to the barman, and order yourself a drink.
Looking around, you see the bar is almost empty. Just a couple of guys at one end, and the barman. He presents you with your pint and you head to the nearest table.
Sipping at the lovely lovely beer, you glance at the magazines strewn on the table. You then blink, put your drink down, and stand up ready to leave.
As you attempt to leave, one of the men you saw earlier steps in front of the door and bolts it shut.
"Hello, darling," he says, winking. He strokes his beard. "Why don't you stay for a drink?"
Several days later your fat, bloated corpse is pulled from the Thames.
Your jaw is broken, and your rectum has been punctured, yet somehow you still have a smile on your face.
For you, the adventure is over.
You step inside, nod to the barman, and order yourself a drink.
Looking around, you see the bar is almost empty. Just a couple of guys at one end, and the barman. He presents you with your pint and you head to the nearest table.
Sipping at the lovely lovely beer, you glance at the magazines strewn on the table. You then blink, put your drink down, and stand up ready to leave.
As you attempt to leave, one of the men you saw earlier steps in front of the door and bolts it shut.
"Hello, darling," he says, winking. He strokes his beard. "Why don't you stay for a drink?"
Several days later your fat, bloated corpse is pulled from the Thames.
Your jaw is broken, and your rectum has been punctured, yet somehow you still have a smile on your face.
For you, the adventure is over.
