by E Day
“I…I don’t know” said Tim, visibly shaken “Welsh Bob did you see anything suspicious?”
“No.”
“It was you wasn’t it Welsh Bob?” accused Parsons.
“No. My job description does not include “defacing of certificates”.
“But you looked after them!”
“Only because Tim was too lazy. I didn’t touch them.”
“You traitor! Grab him!”
“Yes, grab him!” screamed the Mulligans.
And all the disciples rushed towards Welsh Bob as one: Honest John grabbed Welsh Bob’s legs, and Bob toppled over. Parsons joined in and also took hold of his legs, and then so did Todd. Eventually all 12 disciples were holding onto his legs.
“Quick his arms are free! Alright!” shouted Adrian with a thumbs up sign. As he made the thumbs up sign, his grip on Welsh Bob’s legs was weakened, and then he released them entirely. Welsh Bob also released his own legs, thus leaving only 10 disciples bravely hanging on, but the remaining disciples were too strong, and Welsh Bob lay motionless on the floor.
Thinking quickly Adrian grabbed Welsh Bob’s arms. Seeing this, one by one the other disciples let go of Welsh Bob’s legs, and grabbed his arms too.
“Quick his legs are free! “shouted John, who let go of Welsh Bob’s arms, and grabbed his legs. All the other disciples gradually swapped from arms to legs again. After about 4 hours of this swapping between limbs, Welsh Bob was subdued.
“Make him walk the plank.”
“Keel haul him,” both these suggestions were rejected, as they had no plank, and did not know what “keel haul” meant.
“Let’s kill him den,” said John.
“OK,” said the other disciples, one at a time.
“Wait!” it was Tim, “You cannot kill Welsh Bob. He may be innocent.”
“Den lets kill him den.”
“No John, if he is innocent that means someone else is to blame.”
“Who? Let’s get them!”
“It was Welsh Bob,” said Graham.
“Ah lets’s get him instead den,” said John.
“No! Let’s just banish him for now,” reasoned Tim, “Then, when we have defeated Rastas, we will sort this matter out. Go now Welsh Bob.”
“I will go, but you will be sorry. I am a winner, and I would have given 110% for this organisation. Goodbye.” And Welsh Bob left, never to be seen again. Until later.
Welsh Bob left the spaceship, and as the others descended from the ship via its gang plank, they saw Welsh Bob’s car wheelspin away from the car park.
“He’s gone,” said Tim sadly.
“Yeah. I’ve got a feeling we’ll see him again before too long,” said Alex as they wrapped up the disciples, and placed them in Tim’s car.
Later (but not the later when Welsh Bob reappears), Tim, Alex and the disciples had tea at Tim’s house, followed by a nice bath, and an early night.
Chapter 12. A bit before the Battle of Roy vs Rastas.
Book of Great Driving, Chapter 3 Verse 1
And so it came to pass that Roy summoned Tim unto Mount ADF. And Roy said unto Tim: ‘TIM YOUR PEOPLE DISPLEASETH ME’, “What do you mean oh brilliant and great Roy who is brilliant and great and takes driving test for 50 pounds?’ asked Tim. ‘THEY LIVETH THE LIFE OF ANTI-ROYS LIKE TONY OLANDER’. And Roy gave unto Tim a tablet made of Stone. And Tim placed this tablet into Mungo’s boot. But Roy told him to read the tablet and Tim saw that it said on the tablet: I AM ROY AND THESE ARE MY 11 COMMANDMENTS, INCLUDING ONE BONUS COMMANDMENT):
1. DON’T FORGET THAT ROY IS GREAT.
2. DO NOT WORSHIP FALSE ROYS EVEN IF THEY ARE BRILLIANT.
3. TAKETH NOT THY OWN DRIVING TEST.
4. IT’S NOT A GOOD IDEA TO PUSH PEOPLE.
5. IF THOU SQUIRTS KETCHUP ON CHALETS THOU SHALT CLEAN IT UP.
6. NO SHOWERS IN FRANCE BEFORE NOON.
7. EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED.
8. RESPECT THY PARENTS AND THY PARENTS 1000 POUND LAMPS.
9. SMALL WEIGHT, LOTS OF REPS.
10. THOU SHALT NOT STEAL KEYS.
11.DON’T GUUUUIILLPP.
And Tim took Roy’s laws and showed them unto his people. Many of the people did not follow the laws, and they were smote by Roy, apparently.
Rastas had become impatient with Olander. He had entrusted the planning of attacking Aylesbury to him, and things were not going well, “I’ve called this meeting to see how things are progressing on the attack plans.”
“Well, as you know, we’ve got Phil Badd on board. And we’ll attack down the Oxford Road.”
“OK. And what else.”
“That’s as far as I’ve got.”
“IT”S BEEN 6 WEEKS AND THAT’S ALL YOU’VE COME UP WITH?!”
“You sounded like Roy then. Yeah well…I’ve had some time off…”
“Time off? How? You’ve already had all your holiday for this year.”
“Paternity leave.”
“We don’t give you paternity leave.”
“Yeah you do: it’s the law now. I am entitled to four weeks unpaid.”
“I did not know your partner was pregnant.”
“No I had the baby myself – a miracle.”
“Where is this childling?”
“He’s outside. Do you want to see him?”
“OK,” sighed Rastas evilly.
Olander left and returned with a sinister looking man.
“Could you not find him?”
“No: this is him. His name is Jimmy.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Olander nodded at Jimmy and pointed at a kelad standing near by. Jimmy walked up to the kelad, and killed it with a single karate chop blow to its metal head.
“Hmmmm…impressive. And he’s your son?”
“Yes. He is 4 weeks old. Isn’t he lovely?”
With that Rastas nodded at Jimmy and pointed at Olander. Jimmy walked up to Olander, killed him with one flick of his wrist, and then started crying.
“Good work Jimmy. Here have this dummy.”
And the dummy calmed Jimmy, and Jimmy became Roy’s new right hand patricidal killing man.
***
In the middle of that night Rastas was awoken by Jimmy’s crying.
“What is it baby Jimmy?”
“We need to attack Roy. We need to attack him hard, and we need to do it now.”
“Do you want your bottle?”
“No I want to take the battle to Roy. Let’s get him.”
“OK. What do you think of the plan to attack down Oxford Road?”
“Don’t matter where, he’s going down.”
“OK, so how about tomorrow?”
“Let me at him.”
But Rastas remembered he had a hair appointment tomorrow, “How about the day after tomorrow?”
So Rastas and Jimmy agreed that they would attack Roy the day after tomorrow.
***
As soon as Rastas and Jimmy had decided they would attack in two days, Tim awoke with a start. Before him stood Squid, “Timothy,” said Squid.
“Shh you’ll wake the disciples. Yes Squid what do you want?”
“Tomorrow you must go to Aylesbury College Mountain. There you must make a fortification, and wait for Rastas’s attack.”
“Why are you in your underpants?”
“Because I am Squid: Roy’s angel.”
“OK. How does Roy know that is when Rastas will attack?”
But Squid had gone, oh no there he is, “Roy knows all. He is everywhere, he is wise and wonderful, he is great and small. And he can take driving tests…”
“Yes I know, for fifty quid.”
“I wish you and the knobs well, brave Timothy,” and Squid had disappeared.
***
The next morning Tim awoke early, fed the disciples, and got dressed. As he dressed he realised that one of the disciples was missing, but which one. He counted them to make sure. Only 10, so two were missing. Yes, but we know Welsh Bo
b’s gone. Oh yeah, so one plus Welsh Bob is missing. But which one? It must be Welsh Bob thought Tim. No we’ve gone through that already. Was it that fat one? No the Mulligans were there. John, yes, Graham, yes, Todd, yes, Quill …it was Quill who was missing. Tim checked in the Mulligans' mouths. No sign of him; he was gone.
Another one gone. How could he face Rastas with such a weakened force? Yet he knew Roy would provide, and they would still triumph no matter the odds. He knew his role was to keep the disciples together, and so he had to be strong. If he showed any fear in front of the disciples it would only make them run around in circles bumping into each other.
But Tim was to find out that more problems had befallen him. Gareth 209 was flashing, turning in circles, and saying “nee nar” over and over, and Quill was not around to fix him. In Quill's absence it fell to Mungo to maintain Gareth. Mungo, who had undergone fixing metal policeman training whilst a mechanic in the RAF, examined Gareth. He was badly damaged: his left arm was no longer detecting crime. Gareth’s components were very fragile and he had had many problems as Aylesbury’s first metal policeman. Some of the disciples had doubted his worth to their mission. They pointed out that Rastas, for example, had been completely undetected by Gareth.
Mungo started frantically trying to fix Gareth, “They have different metal policeman in France brrrr hur bur nothing.” He was pouring over Professor Quill’s blueprints, but could not make head or tail of them. He soon realised that his RAF training did not equip him to work on something as complex as Gareth.
“I know I’ll steal a new Gareth 209 from the police,” Mungo thought.
“How is it going Wilf?” Tim was worriedly watching Mungo’s progress.
“Going er up!”
“What?”
“Nothing burr.”
“Listen we need to leave soon. We’re going to camp on Aylesbury College Mountain tonight”
“OK I’ll catch you up. Up ‘er up.”
“OK. Make sure you are there as soon as possible.”
“OK. I may have to make it tomorrow morning.”
“Well make sure it is the crack of dawn.”
“Crack burr nothing.”
So that night Mungo sat outside Aylesbury police station in his sleeping bag (brrr nothing) with a flask of coffee, and a beard. He surveyed the police station through binoculars. Suddenly a figure loomed in his vision. It was Olander, no hang on he’s dead isn’t he? It was Jimmy.
“Hi,” said Jimmy.
“Hi…,” began Mungo cautiously, “ 'er…up.”
“Are you thinking of robbing that place? You should be careful, it’s full of police.”
“No…burr…it was you.”
“My friend, I’m not planning on going in there. Mind if I keep you company while you plan?” Before Mungo could answer, Jimmy sat down on the grass beside him.
“I’m not going in there either. Nothing.”
“No? Than why are you staring at it with binoculars?” Jimmy was weighing up whether he should kill Mungo there and then. He knew he was Roy’s number one disciple. Gareth had been reprogrammed by Rastas IT department, and had been sending video back to Rastas and Jimmy letting them know the disciples' every move. Killing Mungo would be a huge blow to Roy’s plans, but Jimmy was wary of Mungo’s beard. He knew if he attacked Mungo his vicious ginger hairy chin would vigorously defend him. So for now he decided to merely incapacitate Mungo, to keep him from joining the others at the battleground.
He pulled a bottle from his pocket and offered it to Mungo, “Drink?”
Mungo took the bottle, “Thanks.” He took a big swig.
Mungo licked his lips. He had never tasted anything so wonderful before.
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah. It is nice!”
“Good. Drink it all up.”
Mungo did as he was told. As he mumbled, “up ‘er up”, a pleasant sensation came over him. His legs started to feel a little shaky.
“Wow! What is this stuff?”
“It is a very powerful drink, first drunk by the Vikings. It is so strong that it was banned for nearly 50 years. There are many tales of its hallucinogenic properties. Tony Hart is rumoured to have drunk it before inventing morph. Spiderman tuned into a spider after drinking it. Some say “My Family” was written under the influence of it. It is called…shandy. It contains nearly 1% alcohol by volume. That drowsiness you are feeling will soon become a deep sleep. And you won't awake for over 2 days – too late to help your precious Roy!”
“No! You evil…” But it was too late. The powerful intoxicants in the shandy had made Mungo very slightly tipsy, and then he blacked out.
Book Of Roy’s Sacred Objects, Chapter 1 Verses 15-16
And Timothy did look in Earth Records one day, and did find a glorious object that was called “The Power and Glory Album”. And Tim did buy the album and he did show it to Roy. And Roy saw that it was good for it havveth soft rock ballads on it. But one day Tim did moveth house, and when he unpacked he did want to play The Power and Glory Album. And he searched high and low, and for forty days and forty nights, yet findeth not the record. And Timothy in his anguish did cry out “Oh Roy why hast thou forsaken me? I cannot find the Power and the Glory album. Can I borrow your copy?”
And Roy did tell Timothy that it was a test, and he must find the Power and the Glory Album. But Timothy had looked everywhere, except the Internet. So he looked on the Internet and there were about 5 Billion Power and Glory Albums, but not the one that was truly brilliant.
“DO NOT GIVE UP TIMOTHY. I KNOW YOU WILL NEVER FAIL ME. NOR I YOU.”
And Tim did then remember that he had left The Power and Glory Album in his car. And he knew once more that Roy spake the truth, and if, for example he had to fight loads of robots etc in a battle, he would not be afraid as Roy would protect him in the same way he had helped him find his record.
To celebrate Timothy went to put on The Power and Glory Album and listen to its glorious majesty, but it had been nicked, as he had left his car unlocked.
Chapter 13. Battle of Roy vs Rastas.
As Tim, Alex and the disciples trudged up the foothills of Aylesbury College Mountain, they passed a phone box, in which the phone was ringing. Tim answered it, “Hello?”
“Tim, thank goodness for that. It’s Welsh Bob.”
“Welsh Bob. How are you?”
“Great! Fantastic! But I’m calling because I’m considering a career realignment…”
“You’ve been fired? That was quick!”
“Well…it’s more that the company decided to go in a different direction. A direction I was uncomfortable with. Do you have anything going?”
“Yeah. Come and fight Rastas up Aylesbury College Mountain.”
“It’s not very appealing.”
“You can be managing director…of fighting Rastas up a hill.”
“Hmmm…Ok then. I’ll see you there.”
“Hold on. How did you know I’d be passing this phone?”
“I’ve just been calling all the phone boxes in Aylesbury randomly since I got fired…I mean changed direction.”
***
That night Tim, Alex and the disciples made camp on top of Aylesbury College Mountain. Welsh Bob joined them, and soon organised a board meeting, and an induction session for all the disciples.
Nestled in a thicket of trees for protection, they erected barricades around their camp. To their west three Tescos’ trolleys prevented attack from Southcourt Plains. To their East Deirdre Mulligan blocked advancement from the River Fair. To their rear (south) they had placed Wayne, stuck on a stick with some glue. Their only unprotected side, and the side they expected to be attacked from was the north. They reasoned that this was the direction that Rastas would come from, as attacks in any of the other directions would entail crossing quite a busy road. To keep morale high while they waited, Welsh Bob placed framed prints of inspirational messages on each fortification.
Once fortified they wai
ted, and had perhaps their last meal. They sat around the campfire, the smell of value fish fingers wafting through the heady air, their faces light by the fire’s glow. There was a hush as if they were afraid that speaking would bring home the reality of their situation. Tim broke the silence, “I know what we are facing tomorrow, and what it could mean, but I feel whatever happens I am proud to have known you all…”
“Baby!” shouted Bobby Lumm laughing.
“As I was saying, I am glad to have known you, and shared the love of Roy with you all. And even…”
“Tim?” It was Honest John.
“Yes Honest?”
“Oi’ve got a disco to do tomorrow night at about 7. So will I be home by then?”
A tear welled in Tim’s eye, “I hope so John. But even if you fall tomorrow…”
“Oi’ll get up again.”
“That’s the spirit. But if you don’t make it old friend…”
“Make what?” asked John.
“I mean if your numbers up…”
“Number er up,” said Mungo. If he had been there, and not asleep elsewhere.
“Listen if any of you die tomorrow I won’t forget you.”
“We can’t die Tim,” said Tony Mulligan.
“Why not?”
“Because we are immortal.”
“No you’re not. Remember: that was a film you watched called Highlander where Sean Connery was immortal…”
“Tim which of my numbers is up?” asked John.
“Sorry?”
“You said if moi numbers up. Which one?”
“I meant if you don’t survive tomorrow…”
“Oi’m hardly likely to die at the disco am I?” laughed Honest.
“But you might die at the battle.”
“Which battle is dat?”
“The one with Rastas.”
“Ah!” it was becoming clear to Honest what fate lay in store for them, “Tim if I fall on me numbers up or something, can you give me wife this.” From a small leather picnic hamper he took eight bottles of champagne which he set aside. At the bottom of the hamper was a small piece of paper which he gave to Tim.
Tim read it, ‘Carpets 20% off’ had been written on it using a felt pen, “What is it?”
“It’s a voucher fer 50% off carpets.”
“You have written ‘Carpets 20% off’ on a piece of paper. That won’t get you 50% off, and in fact it won’t get you anything off, because you wrote it yourself.”
“Can you give it her anyway? It would mean a lot to me. Carpets are expensive and 50% off means half off oi think.”
“Alright John! Can I borrow that voucher?” asked Adrian, as he gave the thumbs up sign.
