There was a boy
A ten year old boy.

We’ll call him…well…we’ll call him Scarpe, as he is the valiant yet tragic hero of this sorry tale

It’s Friday night, he’s flicking through the Radio Times. And then he see’s it…on ‘Saturday Superstore’ the next morning….someone he adores, someone he just knows he must meet.

But how? He knows he is supposed to be visiting his Nan & Granddad the next day. His parents wouldn’t understand, they wouldn’t take him all the way to that there London on the off chance he could make his dream come true.

So he starts to plan. He goes to bed at 9 without even being asked. He even brushes his teeth without argument.

The lights go out and he starts to fiddle with his new digital watch. He sets the alarm for 5am and tries to sleep.

But he can’t. It feels like Christmas Eve. His stomach is full of butterflies.

5am comes around and he gets up, gets dressed in the dark and sneaks out the back door. He edges his way round the garden, avoiding the automatic lights.

But a light snaps on.

He freezes, he’s about to get caught.

But no…no one wakes up, and soon he’s out on the street and free, free, free…

An hour later he has made his way to the train station, he’s queuing to get a ticket to London, he is so close to meeting his hero he can almost hear their voice saying hello to him.

And then a hand clasps his shoulder.

He turns and comes face to face with his Dad.

‘Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’ve just followed you all the way here’

And our hero is marched all the way back home in silence, tears streaming down his face.

Hours later he is sat, sulking, at his Nan and Granddads house, watching forlornly as the lucky bastards on the telly who are asking questions and getting answers from the object of his affection.

The jealousy is overwhelming. He starts to sob again, he can’t control his tears.

And who, you may ask, is the focus of this love…nay…adoration…nay…worship?

Nik Fucking Kershaw.

(I swear, I am straight, I really am)
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 17 Apr 2009, 17:03, 4 replies)

Are you sure you're straight ???
I mean, Nik Kershaw...
( SpankyHanky, Fri 17 Apr 2009, 17:12, closed)

Wouldn't It Be Good
If your Dad had let you go meet him?

(Sorry)
(Capo, Fri 17 Apr 2009, 18:31, closed)

Your old isn't from Arran, is he?
I reckon he spotted you when that automatic light went off. You would have lit up like a beacon in the veil of the night.

Still, it's a Riddle why your old man followed you all that way before nabbing you.
(Helixdaunting, Sat 18 Apr 2009, 8:44, closed)

No, my Dad is not
In fact, my Dad is no big deal, he's just a wide boy. He's no big deal, he's just an ordinary guy.

(Oh me, oh my)


Edit: oh, and he followed me because he thought it was funny, apparently. He's a card my Dad...
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Sat 18 Apr 2009, 12:52, closed)