***
Four: Little Miss Tangle Foot
I had heard Meredith's name mentioned before. It was Meredith who set up TURDS, the Tactical Urgent Response Detection Squad, a wing of APES, the Australian Police Executive Service. Meredith had the distinction of being the first APE, he was also the first TURD, Bigfoot was the second TURD but one of many APES.
Meredith had been a platoon leader in the Australian Army in Vietnam and had done his tour of duty fighting communism to keep the free world safe. He had volunteered for a second tour of duty and had gone back to Vietnam as a Company Commander. His fighting men, his diggers, had ambushed a Vietcong supply column and blown about twenty something of the local communists to kingdom come. Meredith had inspected the handy work of his mighty warriors and then gone off into the jungle by himself and, according to Bigfoot - he spewed up his guts. Meredith went from being a gung-ho anti-communist redneck, to a mild mannered man who wanted to build bridges and support the local community. The army repatriated him home. It was during Meredith's second tour of duty in Vietnam that he met Bigfoot, who was just a shit kicker at the time, according to Bigfoot.
I know this is all a bit convoluted but that's how Bigfoot and Meredith knew each other. On one occasion Bigfoot saved Meredith from a Vietcong hand grenade by grabbing the unexploded bomb and throwing it back into the enemy lines before it blew up. Meredith, in return, saved Bigfoot's life when Bigfoot was cut off in the jungle and surrounded by Vietcong. Meredith led a squad of men into an intense fire fight that had developed and pulled Bigfoot, kicking and screaming, out of the jungle and physically threw him into a helicopter. Bigfoot didn't want to be saved, he was in the jungle looking for a mate, his mate's body was never recovered. So much for war, in my opinion it's just grown men playing little boys games but with dangerous toys.
Somehow, back in Australia, Meredith was in the right place at the right time and was asked by the Government of the day to set up the Roving Federal Police Squad or the RFPS, which Bigfoot pronounces as the rough piss. RFPS became APES and then APES created TURDS and the rest, as they say, is history. So why am I going into all this detail now? Well we, Bigfoot, Littlefoot and myself, the three incumbent Tasmanian TURDS, were down in Salamanca Place Hobart, eating gourmet pizzas and drinking the local Waterfall Strong Ale and, in my case, mineral water, when Bigfoot started to tell us about TURDS first case. I was intrigued to find out everything I could about the early days of TURDS.
'At that point there was only two operatives, Meredith and myself,' said Bigfoot.
'At that point there were only two operatives,' I said involuntarily correcting Bigfoot.
He gave me a bored look.
'But we did have a secretary, Little Miss Tangle Foot.'
'Was that her real name?'
'No, we called her that because every Friday night she went out, got drunk, got her feet tangled up and fell over.'
'Seems a waste of time to me,' I said.
'West, you have to learn to chill out. There is more to life than work. People need to enjoy themselves, even you.
'I do enjoy myself,' I said.
'No, I mean having a pint with your mates and being crazy now and then,' said Bigfoot.
'I have no intention of being crazy,' I said. 'Please continue with Little Miss Tangle Foot.'
'Ah West, we'll get you going one of these days.'
'It would take a better man than you to get me going.'
'We'll see, time will tell. Anyway, Little Miss Tangle Foot was a short little thing and one week she would come into work fat and the next week she would go on a starvation diet and she would come into work as thin as a rake. She had a nice smile, long straight brown hair and she was naïve.'
'That's how I like them,' said Littlefoot, 'the naïve ones are overawed by my sophistication.'
'You, sophisticated?'
'They find me debonair and urbane.'
'The sheilas would find you about as debonair and urbane as a sewage farm and they would find your patter full of the effluence of human kind,' said Bigfoot.
'Shall we get back to Meredith,' I said.
'Okay, I went into the office one day and there was Tangle Foot. "Good morning Bossman would you like a cup of coffee?" she said. She used to call me Bossman but she called Meredith Commander Meredith.'
'Was Meredith's title Commander?' said Littlefoot. 'I'm going to be Commander Littlefoot one day.'
'In your dreams Littlefoot. Meredith was a man amongst men and an intellectual.'
'I'm intellectual, I am giving a lecture on Schrödinger's cat to the friends of the Bellringle Library.'
'Very good Littlefoot, now getting back to reality.'
'I'm not appreciated, no one realises what an intellectual I am.'
'Getting back to Meredith?' I said.
Bigfoot started making funny faces, but he soon tired of that, and when I gave him an impatient look he got back to the narrative.
'Meredith, funny name really, a girl's name, but he was a great bloke and a mate. You know, I can picture it all now, just as if it was happening again. I went in to our headquarters at Salamanca Place this day and Little Miss Tangle Foot, our secretary, said to me:'
'Would you like a cup of coffee?'
'Has the coffee been security tested? I said. Everything had to be security tested in those days.'
'Yes Boss, my mum bought it at the supermarket and she made sure that it hadn't been tampered with by terrorists.'
'She used to take me very seriously did Little Miss Tangle Foot,' said Bigfoot
'Whatever happened to her?' I said.
'She got married and had babies.'
'Are you sure you don't want to know about Schrödinger's cat?' said Littlefoot.
'So I said to Little Miss Tangle Foot: if your mother says it's alright then I can give it the okay.'
'Would you like some chocolate biscuits? she said. My mother says that chocolate biscuits are bad for your indigestion system. All the plumbing gets blocked up and you get constintipation. She says that chocolate biscuits is a terrorist plot to destroy our health in the western world and destabilise the world economic system.'
'Have no worries Tangle Foot, I said, I used to call her Tangle Foot, my stomach can stand up to the ravages of terrorism, hand me the whole packet, I need a snack to tide me over before morning tea, and I munched my way through the whole packet. Biscuit hand mouth crunch, biscuit hand mouth crunch, biscuit hand mouth crunch and so on till they were all gone and all the time Tangle Foot kept prattling away.'
'Did I tell you about Walter the Weevil? she said. He's my latest. He's not a weevil, that's just his nickname. Last night we went to a movie. We've been going out together for three weeks, three days and twenty five minutes, I'm not sure about the seconds. He wants to go steady. Walter works as some sort of mechanic he says, but it's top secret, I don't think if he works as a mechanic it would be top secret Boss do you? Walter says that he could tell me what his job is but then he would have to kill me.'
'Tangle Foot, I said, do you always have to chatter away like a cricket, I have a lot of high priority work to do and are there any more of those chocolate biscuits?'
'Yes Boss, I got the chocolate biscuits on special, they were out of date and half price, I got a cupboard full.'
'I like a secretary who can show initiative, I said, and I helped myself to a couple more packets of chocolate biscuits.'
'Before we went to the movie, we went to dinner in a real beaut restaurant. Walter had two super burgers. He wore a navy blue sports jacket, pale blue slacks, white socks and, oh Boss, I'm sorry, but I can't remember the colour of his shoes. I didn't eat much cause I'm on a diet, I have to count the calories. Walter had a new phone, he showed me!'
'I'm supposed to be in conference with Commander Meredith, he's late, that's not like Meredith where could he be? I said.'
'Why Boss he's sitting in his office waiting for you, I've been trying to tell you that but you wouldn't let me get
a word in edgeways.'
'Tangle Foot just tell Meredith I'm here.'
'Oh I don't need to tell him, he said for you to go straight in as soon as you got here.'
'So I went straight in. Now Meredith was a good looking, medium height sort of bloke with a boyish grin and a flourishing crop of blonde hair.'
'Sit down Bigfoot, he said and I sat down.'
'What's the go? I said.'
'I called you in here to have a talk.'
'We could do that in the pub.'
'No I want to get serious.'
'At the time I'd only just become a TURD, so I did what I was told to do, and listened when people told me to listen, but Meredith was a mate so relations were easy, give and take like.'
'Would you like a coffee?'
'Prefer a beer, I said and he went to his bar fridge and pulled out a couple of coldies. We opened up our beers said 'Cheers' and had a swig.'
'I want to get a few things straight, he said.'
'Go right ahead old son.'
'I want to talk about Nam, he said.'
'I prefer to forget the war, I said.'
'When I first went to Vietnam I was a wet behind the ears lieutenant ready to shoot up anything that moved.'
'Me too.'
'I'd been an anti-communist fanatic but Nam changed all that and Nam changed my view of the world.'
'None of us came home the same, I said.'
'That's why I joined the police force.'
'You're talking drivel Meredith, you're not making much bloody sense, I said.'
'I now believe in, how can I put it, democracy…'
'Yeah well we all do don't we?'
'And the right of the people to come together and decide things.'
'Sounds like communism old son, I said, any chance of another beer?'
'Yeah sure, he said and he threw another coldie my way, I took a running dive and caught it, You're out! I shouted.'
'I've learnt not to brand people as good or bad and that everyone is equal and should get a fair go.'
'You're too deep for me, I said knocking back my beer.'
'No one is better than anybody else and that's what Nam taught me and that's what I want TURDS to stand for.'
'What's that oh deep one? I said.'
'I want TURDS to stand for a fair dinkum fair go for everyone.'
'Right.'
'Are you with me on this? he said.'
'Well I understood what he was saying alright but I said: I can't work out where you are coming from mate.'
'I'm talking about the fundamentals.'
'I reckon that you're turning into an anarchist, what you're saying's just a lot of old bull dust.'
'You're stirring me up.'
'Me, stirring you up, would I do that?'
'Yes you bloody well would.'
'I just don't know where you are coming from or going to mate, I said with my tongue in my cheek. Have you ever put your tongue in your cheek, don't try to eat anything at the same time.'
'Now getting back to Schrödinger's cat,' said Littlefoot.
'I called him a left wing wimpo,' said Bigfoot.
'Unless people like me and you Bigfoot, and I believe you are understanding me loud and clear, unless people like us take part in the affairs of the nation...'
'Like being police and all that, I said.'
'Yes like being police and all that, then the rednecks will take over.'
'You are a bloody piss weak piss head, I said and then I said, any chance of another beer?'
'You understand what I've been saying.'
'Not one bloody word, I said.'
'From the way you are criticising me, I know you understand.'
'I'm just cannon fodder, I said, I just do as I'm told, no opinion whatsoever, I don't think too hard!'
'I give you twenty four hours and you'll start talking like me.'
'Never, I said and I drank my beer, he gave me another, I drank that, he gave me another, we went out on the town and had a few reds, he liked a red, any sort of red would do, the cheaper and the rougher the better, he said he liked a good honest rough red.'
'I'm a bit of an aficionado of the fermented grape myself,' said Littlefoot. 'At the moment I'm drinking Smelly Sock Shiraz, I got it on special from the supermarket buy one and get twelve bottles free.'
'So what happened to Meredith?' I said.
I was anxious to find out about the early days of TURDS before Littlefoot started on about Schrödinger's cat again. I was interested, they were heady times.
'Well, we went out, got drunk, picked up a couple of sheilas and took them back to Meredith's place but we were too drunk to do anything.'
'Brewers droop,' said Littlefoot.
'That's it.'
'So we know about Meredith's philosophy but we don't know anything else,' I said.
'Well,' said Bigfoot, 'Meredith and I got blotto, as I said, and twenty four hours later he was dead.'
'Dead?
'Yes, D E A D, dead.'
'What happened?'
'It was a letter.'
'A letter.'
'A bloody letter.'
'Must have had some strong language in it.'
'It had a lot more than strong language in it.'
'Yes?'
'He opened it.'
'And?'
'It was a bomb.'
'Shit.'
'It blew his bloody head off.'
'He'd been following up a bikie gang, they were growing marijuana in the Northern Territory, he led a police raid on their marijuana plantation, reeled in millions and millions of dollars worth of marijuana. He had led raids on drug factories set up in houses in suburban Melbourne, he had led a raid against a bikie fortress in the bush outside Sydney, he had it bulldozed and captured a small arsenal of weaponry, handmade guns, knives, knuckle dusters, automatic rifles, machine guns, an anti-tank rocket launcher and even a hand held anti-aircraft missile. And the big shit in all this, the real bad smell, Black Bob he was called, lived right here in Tasmania. He lived quietly, or so he led everyone to believe, and ran an antique shop and museum just north of Hobart in the quaint old town of Mull. Meredith actually had Black Bob's file open on his desk the day he died.
'I went back to HQ after the funeral and the file on Black Bob was sitting on Meredith's desk, the whole file was untouched by the explosion, it was still perfect, apart from one splash of blood, I took one look at the file and I knew who had done the dirty deed. I knew it was Black Bob.'
'You had a gut feeling,' I said.
'No I didn't get gut feelings in those days, I used to try and make a logical case and pin all the evidence together.'
'So what happened?'
'I took a gun, well two guns, an automatic rifle and an automatic shotgun, and I got on my Harley, I had a Harley-Davidson back then, and I decided to ride out and shoot up Black Bob's bloody antique shop and fill Black Bob full of bloody holes.'
'That wasn't strictly legal Bigfoot, we shouldn't just take the law into our own hands.'
'I didn't care less,' said Bigfoot.
'It's like in those spaghetti westerns with you riding out for a showdown,' said Littlefoot.
'That's about the size of it.'
'Ooey ooey ooo, eee ooo eee, ooey ooey ooo, eee ooo eee,' sang Littlefoot.
'Shut up Littlefoot,' I said.
'But it didn't quite go to plan,' said Bigfoot.
'I see. No I don't see,' I said. 'What didn't go to plan?'
'Little Miss Tangle Foot was shattered, she had been crying ever since it happened. I sent her home but she insisted on working and when I went out to my Harley she followed me out of the office chattering away chatter, chatter, chatter, you've never heard anything like it, not even from Littlefoot, anyway she grabbed a helmet and jumped on the back of my bike. Get off, I said.'
'No.'
'Get off.'
'No.'
'Get off.'
'No.'
'There's going to
be shooting.'
'I have to come.'
'I'll be mixing it with death.'
'I'm coming.'
'Please yourself.'
'I will.'
'Ooey ooey ooo, eee ooo eee, ooey ooey ooo, eee ooo eee,' sang Littlefoot.
'Shut up Littlefoot,' I said.
'When we arrived in Mull, I dropped my bike down one end of the main street. Down the other end of town, and smack bang across the street, was Black Bob's Petrol Bowser Museum and Antique Shop, his museum was chockers with old petrol bowsers, old petrol station signs, old oil bottles, all the stock in trade of old petrol stations and there were even a few antique Harley-Davidsons thrown in for good measure.
'I stood straddling the main drag with my automatic rifle and I filled Black Bob's Petrol Bowser Museum sign full of lead. Black Bob came out, he was ropable. Black Bob I'm calling you to account, I shouted, I jettisoned my automatic rifle and just held my repeater shotgun at my side and I took one slow careful step forward.'
'I've been expecting you, he shouted.'
'He looked me straight in the eye and I'll say this for him, he was a cool customer, at his side he held a double barrelled sawn off shotgun, he took up a position in the middle of the road at the opposite end to me and took one step forward and then he stopped. We eyed each other off.'
'Ooey ooey ooo, eee ooo eee, ooey ooey ooo, eee ooo eee,' sang Littlefoot.
'Shut up Littlefoot,' I said.
'No one appreciates me.'
'Shut up, go and play with Schrödinger's cat.'
'You know why I'm here, I said,' said Bigfoot.
'I know why you are here, he said.'
'I am Meredith's avenging angel.'
'You've got it all wrong, he said.'
'Tell that to the judge.'
'Doesn't look like there is to be no judge.'
'I'm the judge and jury, I said.'
'Looks a bit that way.'
'I've come to blow your bloody head off.'
'I thought as much.'
'Any last requests? I said.'
'I don't suppose you would believe me if I said that I'm a sad old retiree and had nothing whatsoever to do with it?'
'You suppose right.'
'Yeah I knew it would be hopeless to talk to a bloody copper.'
'Your time's up.'
'I can't complain, I've had a good innings.'
'Well today you will be clean bowled.'
'I might bowl a googly myself.'
'Like to see you try.'
'All in good time, I'm in no hurry.'
'Nor me, I said.'
'Pity, I was enjoying retirement.'
'You're dead meat fella, I said. I took one slow careful step forward and Black Bob took one slow careful step towards me, neither of us was in a hurry. Sweat started pouring off my forehead and then, bugger me, Little Miss Tangle Foot came and stood next to me. Get out of here, I said.'
'Hiding behind a woman's skirt, said Black Bob.'
'Get the hell out of here, I said through gritted teeth.'
'You're a coward, just like every other cop, said Black Bob.'
'Walter the Weevil, you remember Walter the Weevil Boss, he's my fella, he's not a weevil though, that's just what we call him, said Tangle Foot.'
'For pity's sake get out of here, I said still eyeballing Black Bob.'
'His real name is Wallace Walderman Wendell Wrongfootson, how about that for a name, and he's only five foot tall. Am I gabbing on too much?'
'No, I said, I love to hear your voice when I'm in a showdown with a murdering desperado.'
'Oh good, I like a good listener, she said. Did I tell you about my cat, mum gave it to me. She said we should all have something to love. Its name's Kitten, it's not a kitten anymore, though. It's a tortoise shell and a Tom and I do love it. When I'm going out with a new bloke I have to introduce him to Kitten and if Kitten likes him then it's good but if they don't get on with Kitten, well I wash my hands of them. I'm sure you'd love Kitten, he sleeps on my bed. He got sick once and was I ever in a state, I took a sickie and stayed in bed all day. We were both as sick as pigs. Mum called the vet and the doctor. I insisted that the doctor treat Kitten before me and then the vet came and gave me an injection. The only thing that makes me sad is that Kitten has never had kittens, but I don't suppose he ever could really. I do love weddings don't you Boss? I want to get married in mum's old wedding dress. It's a bit moth eaten but really beautiful, made of the finest silk. I plan to have four children, two boys and two girls. I took Walter the Weevil around to all the baby shops in town on the weekend and he helped me pick out some baby clothes, I've been stockpiling disposable nappies, I have twelve packets now and I've got babies bibs, they're white with Mickey Mouse on them.'
'Tangle Foot!'
'Yes Boss.'
'Shut up, I said.'
'My mum says I'm a romantic but I just like happy endings and I like it when everyone gets on well together and I just think that maybe Black Bob, well maybe, how d'ya know he did it Boss?'
'I know, now get out of here, I said.'
'I dare you to come out from behind that dress, shouted Black Bob.'
'I think you are doing the wrong thing Boss, said Tangle Foot.'
'Someone could get killed here, I said, go and get behind that tree and if there is shooting run, is that clear?'
'Walter the Weevil's in a top security job.'
'I don't care a fat rat's arse.'
'You all girlies down there? called out Black Bob.'
'I asked him what he did Boss and he said Tupperware.'
'Look, there is a ruthless killer a few yards down the road waiting to blow my head off, I am not interested in bloody Tupperware.'
'But you should be Boss, it keeps salads fresh.'
'You are killing me girl.'
'I went to the pub Boss, with Meredith, we just chatted, it didn't mean nothing, he was lonely Boss, he had nightmares.'
'What are you trying to tell me Tangle Foot?'
'I don't think you should shoot nobody.'
'Why the hell not?'
'Well.'
'Well what?'
'Well I mean to say.'
'Say it then!'
'I can't put things into words, but did Black Bob do it Boss?'
'If he didn't, who did?'
'Walter the Weevil, he loves me like a volcano, he's very jealous.'
'Good for you.'
'So, I was in a bar with Meredith, just having a drink. Well Boss, Walter the Weevil, he's my steady, he comes in to the pub and sees us having a drink and Walter is very jealous and he works in Tupperware and what's Tupperware Boss? It's plastic.'
'Oh Christ, what are you trying to tell me girl? I said.'
'Well, it was a plastic bomb in that letter, and Walter works in top security, he said he works in Tupperware and Tupperware's plastic Boss and Boss, I don't know what to think, said Little Miss Tangle Foot and I just sat down in the road and cried,' said Bigfoot.
'So now can we get on to Schrödinger's cat?' said Littlefoot.
'Oh shut up,' I said.
'No let the Littlefella have his say,' said Bigfoot.
'I'll have you know that I am an intellectual, I am preparing a talk on Schrödinger's cat for a public lecture,' said Littlefoot.
'Schroddingoes what?' said Bigfoot.
'Schrödinger's cat, it's to do with quantum mechanics.'
'Littlefoot you are a worry,' said Bigfoot staring at Littlefoot in disbelief.
'What do you think you're looking at?' said Littlefoot.
'Don't know, the label fell off.'
'Boys let's not fight,' I said.
'Schrödinger's cat is a paradox,' said Littlefoot, 'devised by Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger in 1935. It illustrates what he saw as the problem of the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics applied to everyday objects, resulting in a contradiction with common sense. The scenario presents a cat that may be both alive and dead, depending
on an earlier random event.'
'Littlefoot you are a bloody nutter.'
'No not at all, I've made a study of quantum mechanics.'
'Why don't you stick to: the cat sat on the mat?'
'To further illustrate, Schrödinger describes how one could, in principle, transpose the superposition of an atom to large-scale systems. He proposed a scenario with a cat in a sealed box, wherein the cat's life or death depended on the state of a subatomic particle. According to Schrödinger, the Copenhagen interpretation implies that the cat remains both alive and dead (to the universe outside the box) until the box is opened. Schrödinger did not wish to promote the idea of dead and alive cats as a serious possibility, on the contrary, the paradox is a classic reduction ad absurdum.'
'You are the only reduction absurdum around here Littlefoot,' said Bigfoot.
'You do not appreciate my finely developed intellect.'
'So getting back to Meredith and the early days?' I said.
'Great West, let's get back to reality, put our feet firmly on the ground. Well…'
'The Schrödinger cat thought experiment remains a typical touchstone for limited interpretations of quantum mechanics. Physicists often use the way each interpretation deals with Schrödinger's cat as a way of illustrating and comparing the particular features, strengths and weaknesses of each interpretation.'
'Shut up Littlefoot,' I said.
'No one ever appreciates what I am trying to do.'
'What are you trying to do Littlefoot,' said Bigfoot.
'Bring a little knowledge and understanding of the world into our daily lives. I am trying to expose you and West, but also the Australian population in general, to higher things.'
'You expose me and I'll punch your face in,' said Bigfoot, 'unless you expose me to a tall leggy blonde with a big personality.'
'I'm wasting my bloody time here, I can see that,' said Littlefoot.
'Littlefoot, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so caustic, I tell you what, I promise not to take the piss out of you anymore.'
'I'll believe that when I see it.'
'Come on Littlefoot we'll go for a beer and a pizza.'
'I'm not sure I want to be seen in the company of a potato head.'
'Listen Littlefoot, this is a good one: What do you give a blonde with everything?'
'Chocolates?'
'Penicillin, get it? Penicillin.'
'I'm afraid I find your jokes puerile and childish.'
'Okay, okay admitted, you are hurt Littlefella but I love you so I apologise. Here's a good one: There is this redhead and she tells a blonde that she slept with a Brazilian and the blonde goes wow how many is a brazilian?'
'Hm,' said Littlefoot.
'See, you think that's funny.'
'I reluctantly admit…'
'Littlefoot why doesn't Schrödinger's cat like on-line shopping?'
'Schrödinger's cat is not a joke, it's not a laughing matter, it's a scientific philosophical paradigm.'
'Because he prefers a cat-alogue, get it? A cat-alogue.'
'I greet your words with the contempt that they deserve,' said Littlefoot.
'Okay, okay, listen Littlepoof: what did Schrödinger's cat say when he lost all his money?'
'I give up, I give up, I am surrounded by thickos.'
'He said: I'm paw.'
'Bigfoot, Littlefoot's not interested,' I said.
'Chill out Littlefoot, life's too short for all this bloody serious Schrödinger's cat rubbish. I have a philosophy for you Littlebit, chill out, laugh and be happy, that's what I think. So my jokes are bloody silly, so my jokes are puerile, but what else is there? What else? My best mate in Nam, my boss, got his bloody head blown off and it was some little pimply nerd who got jealous for no bloody reason who did it and he never went to prison, he was put into a home for the mentally ill. He wasn't mentally ill, he was a bloody…he was a…he blew Meredith's head off for no reason, God if you don't laugh sometimes Littlenit then what have you got, what can you bloody well do? Just go out and blow your bloody brains out.'
'Let's go for a drink,' said Littlefoot.
We were drinking beer, wine and mineral water in my case. Bigfoot was feeling nostalgic and Littlefoot, with a big Cheshire cat smile on his face, pulled out a manuscript, where he pulled it from I am not sure.
'What's that Littlefartface?' said Bigfoot.
Littlefoot took no notice of Bigfoot's jibe.
'My novel,' said Littlefoot proudly.
'I didn't know you were a writer Littlefoot,' I said.
'There is a lot people don't know about me, I'm not just a pretty face.'
'I've told you before, you're not a pretty face,' said Bigfoot.
Littlefoot did not take the bait.
'It's a murder mystery, police drama, thriller, whodunit, police procedure, romance, action adventure novel.'
'Something for everyone Littlepip?' said Bigfoot.
'Yes, I'm painting a broad canvas.'
'Is it any good though?'
'Those in the know say that I am a very good writer.'
'Let me see Littlefella,' said Bigfoot.
He grabbed for the manuscript but Littlefoot snatched it back.
'It's only for those with a higher sensibility,' he said.
'Give it,' said Bigfoot and he snatched it again.
'You have to read it with artistic integrity, with sensitivity and...'
'What?' said Bigfoot flipping through the manuscript. He stopped at a random page and began to read: '"She walked through the door, her hot steaming body perspired desire. I looked deep into her eyes. Our eyes connected and in that second passion desire lust all intertwined. I jumped up and tore off her blouse as she ripped at my jeans and tore them from my body. Our lust was utterly uncontrollable I took her head in my hands and pushed it back and kissed her passionately our tongues intertwined as we collapsed onto the floor and I felt for her…"'
'Thank you Bigfoot,' I said, 'we get the point.'
'If you read the book properly it is an artistically sensitive and satisfying love scene,' said Littlefoot.
'Artistically sensitive love scene my arse,' said Bigfoot.
He flipped through the manuscript some more. 'Here's another bit, this is good,' he said. '"I walked slowly down the main street of the town, my boots raising a slight pall of dust. Down the end of the street Marshall Longshot stepped into the road, his right hand fell limply to his side, in it he casually held an eight shot repeating revolver, he looked at me, I looked at him, he curled up his top lip in a grimace, Marshall Longshot was about as rotten as a lawman could be. He stared, I stared back. He flexed the fingers on his right hand, I flexed mine. Nothing happened for a long time then flash bang and I was rolling in the dirt and flash bang flash bang I fired in reply. He didn't move, time very slowly moved on, and then he collapsed into the dust."'
'Well?' said Littlefoot.
'Well what?' said Bigfoot.
'Do you like it?'
'How can I put this?'
'Well how would you describe it?'
'Heap of crap.'
'Bastard…I'm misunderstood, I try to improve your mind, I am…my artistic integrity I am trying for a greater literature…I am…'
'It's alright Littlepotboiler, I like crap,' said Bigfoot. 'I have to be serious at work, when I'm not at work escapist rubbish is my cup of tea.'
'Escapist, escapist, I am trying for a higher literature?' said Littlefoot.
'I like it for God's sake,' said Bigfoot. 'My best mate got his bloody head blown off by a nerd Littlefoot, I think we all need to escape from reality, if we can't escape sometimes and chill out what's the point of life.'
'You do like it.'
'Course I like it, stops me thinking of all the bad things that have happened in my life. I love it Littleprick, it's great.'
'I knew you would, people say that I'm the next Agatha Christie.'
'I've always said that you were a bit of a girlie.'
'Outsi
de, I'll fight you!'