#4 Escher Music

Shaken by what had happened, he had wandered outside, preferring to be in the street for a relaxing smoke when, in the descending dusk, he stumbled on a discarded mattress and as he tried to catch his balance he was overcome by a particularly bad attack of angina which caused him to drop down dead, right there on the mattress, in between the two derelict shops opposite the Gold Store.  John, who was pacing nearby, imploring whoever it was at the other end of the phone to help him find a certain Freddie, so engrossed was he in describing all the bad that Freddie had meted upon him that he walked clean into the just dead Desmond; falling over him and then onto him, his phone dropping from his hand and sliding across the street.  Young Rick, who had been hanging around for an opportunity, seized the opportunity and pounced upon the approaching handset then sprinted down to the end of the road, leaping over the barrier and legging it to the left, hopping onto a bus just in time.  As the doors closed, one glanced his right temple, traditionally a reliable trigger for his hyperactive Vegus nerve, and accordingly he fainted on the spot, crumpling into a heap and taking Monica down with him.  Monica who always wore heels was, on this occasion, wearing possibly the world's sharpest stilettos which came to rest on Gloria's shopping, or more specifically, inside the shopping bag which contained the olive oil.  The force of Young Rick's fall had caused one of Monica's heels to pierce Gloria's discount plastic olive oil bottle, and the contents surged out, under and beyond Monica, down towards the exit.  The driver had left the back doors open due to the commotion caused by Young Rick's fainting, and Blow decided to get the hell out of there in case any uniforms appeared.  He met with the river of oil which effectively expedited his exit from the bus.  Blow slipped forth towards a parked Toyota upon which he duly landed, but suddenly it wasn't so parked anymore, rather it was taking him sightseeing towards the canal.  Farah had only recently passed her driving test and had yet to master the skill of negotiating the rush hour with a drug dealer on her bonnet. She screeched to a halt propelling Blow off the car and into the water. His landing was dramatic and its splash extensive, reaching as far as the far side of the canal and onto the plates of the diners enjoying their business's annual bonding barbeque in the comfort of their local gastro pub's heated beer garden.  The sudden appearance of much water on Gwen's plate, as she was returning to her seat from the barbeque buffet, caused within her the reflex of letting go and the plate took off, Frisbee-like, across the canal, through an open window and landed on the kitchen table of a smoker who was about to light up.  "Is nowhere safe anymore?"  he was heard to exclaim. Shaken by what had happened, he wandered outside, preferring to be in the street for a relaxing smoke.

©LolaPerrin2010