From The Mouths of Fishes…

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Pink Floyd’s ‘Careful With That Axe, Eugene’, from their 1969 Ummergummer ‘Live at Mothers’ album, combined with Roscoe’s Ginger Wine, was proving a distinctly potent combination…

I was lying in the dark with volume ten blasting my stupefied brain through burning hot earphones, when my mind’s eye beheld a dishevelled man with a tall and dented stovepipe hat. He shuffled through a crowded cafe, pulling fish from a bucket and dropping them randomly on the floor amongst the barking, lumbering humans.

My stare seemed to tap him on the shoulder, for he turned and bore down on me with slow menace. With great deliberation he placed a fish upon my empty plate. “Especially for his Excellency, if it pleases…” the man hissed with fake sycophancy on a draught of foulest breath.

All the other customers in the cafe had fallen silent and all were glowering contemptuously at me . The fish, set upon the plate before me, then whispered on its last-gasped breaths, “Careful… careful… careful with that axe, Eugene…”

The fish’s many accomplices, each flapping and wheezing on the cafe’s floor, immediately set about spasming vigorously and screaming the house down…

And the dishevelled man in the tall and dented stovepipe hat began laughing… and he laughed and laughed and he laughed and laughed… whilst all the while fixing me with his cold beady-eyed stare, as my panic rose in a sudden cyclone…



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