“What do you mean?”
“Well to be a disciple of Roy you need to have at least one special power such as stretch arms. Take Mungo for instance. He has mumbling ability and he can do roof chops. What can you do?”
Graham thought for a moment, “I love bombs”,
“Excellent, and I can add to that the special power of appearing to be drunk when not.”
***
Meanwhile at the bus station the skinheads were approached by Rastas, and another passenger who had been on the number 48, Albert. Albert was Rastas’s Head of Human Resources and as they neared the lead skinhead, he dropped slightly behind Rastas, a look of trepidation on his face.
Before working for Rastas Albert had worked for a large brewery chain, and was not sure he was cut out for recruiting the type of people Rastas needed. At Albert’s interview Rastas had not mentioned the standard of candidates their organisation could expect, and Albert now regretted not asking. He had very little experience of recruiting the evil and undead, and had almost come to blows with a kelad he interviewed last week. The interview had started well, but the kelad, whose name was Derek, had become agitated when asked how he would chase Rastas’s enemies up stairs.
“Will you join my army?” Rastas asked the lead skinhead, whose name was Gene.
“What army?”
“An army to defeat my most hated enemy, Roy.”
“Who is Roy?”
“You will know him when the time is right.”
“What is the pay?”
“No pay. Either you are with me or against me.”
“Ah...OK then. No thanks.”
“If you are against me then fear my wrath.”
“Oh...OK”
Albert butted in “Rastas may I have a word?” The two of them huddled together and Albert whispered out of earshot of Gene, “Look we need to change our employment policies.” He said, “This month we have not recruited anybody.”
“Hmmm OK,” Rastas walked back to where Gene and the others stood, “OK The Skinheads. I will pay you…”
“We will pay you a wage competitive in the skinhead industry,” finished Albert.
“What about benefits?” asked Harry, assistant skinhead.
“The usual benefits package: pension, life insurance, BUPA and free weapons,” said Albert.
“Enough. This talk tires me. Albert sign up these men.” And Rastas returned to the Rastas lair.
Book of Taste the Blood of Rastas, Chapter 3 Verse 8
And Rastas brought a plague upon all skinheads in the land of Aylesbury. It was a plague of plague, and the skinheads did die by the thousand. From plague. Soon there were only a few skinheads left and they came to Rastas begging for him to end the plague. And Rastas agreed so long as they did join his fight against Roy. And all the remaining skinheads agreed. And Rastas’s army was becoming mighty, numbering a thousand kelads, some UFO spacemen, a few skinheads and a roboman.10
After leaving Graham’s Tim returned home late and slept soundly, happily knowing he had avoided the skinheads and recruited 2 top-quality disciples. The next day Tim witnessed what he knew to be Roy’s first miracle. He was looking for his TV remote control, and could not find it anywhere. He had looked for the it for ages, then he looked under a cushion he thought he’d already looked under, and there it was. Tim knew that by doing Roy’s wishes he had been rewarded with this miracle. He had stood up to Olander, and the skinheads (sort of) and had recruited Mungo and Graham, passing all Roy’s tests so far.
While he sat watching TV, flicking between channels with Roy’s miracle, his mother entered, “Timothy, I have a bought a new lamp. I want you to install it and treat it with great care,” she showed it to him.
“What’s this button mum?”
“Oh that’s a Colonel Tony button. I’m not sure what it does.”
Necronomicon Rastas, chapter 1, verse 17
Despite Olander ending his days in Florida gay porn Rastas did command him to be his right hand man, although Rastas is not gay you understand. And Olander did command Rastas’s troops when Rastas was out and Olander did help plan Rastas campaign aganst Roy and Olander did help re-design Rastas kitchen for a more modern urban look with free standing cabinets and a polished concrete worktop and a really cute oven.
On set of his latest film Olander was taking a break.
“I’m sick of this Ridley” he said to the film’s director, and he stormed out of the building.In the parking lot (what Americans use to park cars in), he noticed a ring of chairs, “I’ve never seen them before,” he thought, “I wonder what would happen if I arrange them into the shape of a pentagram.” As he did he blacked out. He awoke in what appeared to be the interior of a cave.
“Hello Olander” Rastas was sitting on his throne in his evil chamber. Olander stood before him, his eyes adjusting to the dark.
“Hello Rastas” He recognised Rastas from the poster behind Rastas’s throne. It was a picture of Rastas, with the word “Rastas” underneath.
“I believe you know Roy’s chief henchman Tim?”
“Yeah I’m at school with him. Or rather I was: I’ve just been expelled and I’ve moved to Florida.”
“Not any more. You work for me now. I want you to follow Tim and then kill him. No... wait... follow him and then I’ll kill him later.”
“Righto! Is there a uniform?”
“Er…wear this.” He handed him a black bin bag.
“Thanks.” And Olander left with a spring in his step, happy to be rid of Florida and eager to gain revenge on Tim.
***
And Roy appeared in a vision before Tim, “TIM YOU HAVE NOT FOUND MANY DISCIPLES YET.”
“No Roy you are right. Where should I look?”
“IT IS NOT FOR ME TO TELL YOU. BUT…OH.SEEK A MAN CALLED BOBBY LUMM. HE IS AN ANCIENT MAN FULL OF WISDOM. HE WILL TUTOR YOU.”
“OK Roy. Where does he live?”
“I CANNOT TELL YOU FOR IT WOULD BE AGAINST THE DATA PROTECTION ACT. BUT SEEK YE A WOOD NEAR THE TALLEST TREE IN THE LAND AND THEREIN EXISTS MFI.”
So Timothy hurriedly scanned the yellow pages under “tall trees” and then “MFI” and he found MFI, went there and spoke to the foreman.
“No he’s not here. Here’s his address. Bobby Lumm, 4 A Swamp, Near Aylesbury.”
Tim knew the swamp near Aylesbury, but had never been there himself. He has stayed away because of the stories associated with it. Everyone in Aylesbury had heard the tale of Lemon Clement. She had been named by her mother after a lemon she had once eaten. Lemon had drowned in the swamp while trying to rescue her pet cat. It was said that Lemon’s ghost could sometimes be seen at the swamp calling for her cat.
So before he left to find Bobby Lumm Tim dressed up nice and warm and took a torch and made a “ghost gun” out of a toilet roll. On the roll he stuck some raffia tassels and wrote “Jesus” on it and drew a cross. It would probably work. Thus armed Tim drove towards Aylesbury swamp. As he got closer mist started to descend. He left the A41 down a dirt road, which ended at the edge of the swamp. Tim parked his car, and got out. Through the mist that hung over the swamp he could barely make out a large neon sign that read “Bobby Lumm”. He thought he could faintly hear Lemon’s voice whispering “Bobby Lumm’s House”. Or maybe it was the faint sound of the 250 watt speakers on top of the sign blaring out “Bobby Lumm’s House” over and over again.
Tim gingerly approached the house. Through the mist he could see a porch, and on the porch was a rocking chair. In the chair there appeared to be a crumpled figure. There before him sat the wizened form of Bobby Lumm.
“Hi my name is Tim…” Tim stammered “I’ve come here…well it’s hard to explain…”
“Stop. I know why you are here. Do you know I work at MFI?”
“I do. In the warehouse right?”
“Yeah. £60 an hour I get – true as I’m standing here. I was playing cards the other night. I won £700 in one hand. Honest. No really.”
/> “Right. Well Roy has told me to come here…”
“Roy Walker? He’s a mate of mine. Honest! I used to write his jokes.”
“Well we need to talk. Do you want to go to a pub?”
“Yeah. Three Pigs? They’ve got a pool table.”
“I’m not very good at pool…”
“Nah? I am – top 10 in the country.”
One hour later and Tim had beaten Bobby Lumm 7-0 on the Three Pigs’ pool table.
“Bit of a dodgy arm. Got it in college. College was great. The best three women in college all asked me out. True as I’m standing here.”
“Yeah whatever. Listen would you like to be one of Roy’s disciples?”
“Hmmm I have a film shoot this week, with Tom Cruise, Ridley Scott and Christopher Peacock. But I suppose I can postpone it. Ok.”
***
At the same time Tim was discovering the disciple qualities of Bobby Lumm, Alex, Dave and Matt had headed into the centre of Aylesbury to see a Dr Feelgood gig. Dr Feelgood were one of the most popular bands in Aylesbury, and had provided the theme tune to the BBC’s coverage of the 1977 Aylesbury Olympics. The concert was being held in Aylesbury’s largest venue: the Aylesbury Palladium, the famous concert hall that over the years had seen bands ranging from Marillion, to Fish out of Marillion.
Alex, Dave and Matt had been to lots of gigs together. They liked the smaller lively ones best where they could bump into and push the other concert goers in the mass of people at the front of a concert. This was fine at gigs with mosh pits, but could lead to trouble at concerts where people did not expect to be jostled. They were enjoying Dr Feelgood, and bouncing off the other customers when a voice said, “It’s not a good idea to push people.” It was a glassy eyed dim looking young man who Alex had just bounced off. It was Michael Holton.
“Alright Dave?”
“Hi Michael. How’s it going?” Dave had gone to school with Michael, before he started at Aylesbury Comprehensive, “You enjoying the concert?”
“Yeah. Last time come ‘ere shagged two birds.”
Quick as a flash Alex realised Holton’s disciple potential. It was obvious that Michael Holton had never shagged any women ever.
“Where you working now Michael?” asked Dave.
“Working down the council. Thirty grand a year. In charge of seventeen people.” Michael lied slack-jawdly.
Alex was excited, as he thought that his was the first time a disciple has been spotted without Tim being present. Since he was worried that Michael Holton’s disciple status might not get through Roy’s legal department, if indeed he had one, he decided to call Tim, “Tim we’ve found a disciple.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No no. Well yes but the point is we have found Michael Holton who has great disciple potential, but you’re not here, so you think Roy will OK it?”
“Don’t know. What does he do?” Alex imitated Michael Holton’s chief characteristics, including “It’s not a good idea to push people.”
“Yeah he does sound good.”
“Yeah and Dave rates him too.”
“Dave doesn’t know about Roy does he? Anyway, I’ll have a word with Roy.” And Tim hung up and dialled Roy on his secret Royphone number.
“HELLO. IT’S ROY!”
“Hi Roy it’s Tim.”
“I KNOW TIM. REMEMBER I AM OMNIPOTENT.”
“Doesn’t that mean you have absolute power over all.”
“YES.”
“So is that how you know it is me who phoned?”
“YES AND I HAVE CALLER ID ON MY PHONE. I MADE BRITISH TELECOM INSTALL IT FOR ME.”
And Tim reflected how truly mighty Roy was. With a mirror. After his reflection Tim spoke again, “Roy is it OK for people other than me to find disciples?”
“ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…SORRY WHAT? I WAS ASLEEP.”
“Is it OK for other people to find disciples?”
“YES. BUT ONLY IF THEY ARE FOLLOWERS OF ME. SO ONLY ALEX, DAVE AND MATT. BYE.” And all Tim could now hear down the phone line was a mysterious buzzing sound. So now there were four of them to find the disciples, but Tim decided to not mention Roy to Dave and Matt as they would make fun of him. Roy seemed to think they were followers of him, but what if Roy was wrong? Tim banished such blasphemous thoughts from his head. Roy was all-knowing, wise and wonderful, and probably really good at football too.
Chapter 8. Parsons
Book of Parsons, Chapter 2 Verse 97
And it came to pass that Parsons was doing a disco at the railway social club for Gary and Pauline’s wedding. And Parsons did asketh Tim and Alex to go to the audience and asketh the audience what songs they would like to hear. And he did give them pieces of paper for requests to be written upon. And Tim and Alex did writteth pretend requests on them which in their eyes and the eyes of Roy was good. And they did deliver these false requests back unto Parsons.
“Alright! This request is for Sex Pistols. Bit surprising, arrr, Ok this goes out for all you disco ducks,” sayeth Parsons. And the sounds of the Sex Pistols did cause much anguish and sitting down of drunken dancing wedding guests.
On arriving home after the gig Alex decided to call up Tim.
“Hi Tim.”
“It’s 1 in the morning,” said Tim angrily.
“Is it?”
“Yes.” He said curtly.
“Do you want to go out for a beer?” Click. Tim had hung up. Alex dialled his number again, “Come on we need to talk about Michael Holton. What did Roy say?”
“It is 3 in the morning.”
“Come on. Lets go for a drink”
“Where? It’s 1 IN THE MORNING!”
“Roy? Is that you?”
“No, I shouted: I am angry!”
“Sorry but I’m excited about finding a disciple. We can go to Aylesbury Metal Equipment; they are bound to have a band on.” Aylesbury Metal Equipment Social Club was a huge entertainment complex to the East of Aylesbury. They sometimes had bands ranging from Fish out of Marillion to Mick Pointer ex Marillion out of Marillion. It was the only all-night venue in Aylesbury.
Click. Tim had hung up again.
Fourteen phone calls later Tim gave up, and arranged to meet Alex at Aylesbury Metal Equipment. Twenty minutes afterwards they stood in Aylesbury Metal Equipment Bar. There was no band on, but there was a disco playing records for the one person on the dance floor, and around 20 others sitting at tables.
The DJ was a slight man with black greasy hair. As the current song ended he said “Allright! Disco ducks. Aylesbury Ducks. Allright! This next one is for all you Aylesbury Ducks; this is Mr George Michael and Careless Whisper. Alright!” the song started and the lone dancer continued to sway.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Tim.
“You mean about tits?”
“No. The DJ.”
“What about him?”
“Did you listen to him.”
“Yeah, bit of a dick, looks like one too…ah I see. Let’s go and have a chat shall we?” They approached the disco, ducking beneath a rope light draped between two large tatty looking speakers.
“Hi” said Tim.
“Hiya.”
“Great disco mate.”
“Thanks! A bit bloody empty, but there you go.”
“Yeah. What is your name?”
“Wilf.” It was the same name as Mungo, Roy’s number one disciple. Was this a good sign wondered Tim, or would it lead to disciple confusion?
“I’m Tim.”
“And I’m Alex.”
“Ah like Alex from The Sensational Alex Harvey Band?”
“Er…Yeah just like that. How long you been a DJ then?”
“About 4 years, more or less. Only part time like lads, I work at the ‘ospital.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“No a cleaner.”
Alex and Tim both knew this was an excellent job for a disciple. Wilf2 was showing a lot of promise.
“What are these
for Wilf?” asked Tim as he pointed to some slips placed on the front of the disco.
“They’re request slips. If people want a song, fill it in,…hey like me mate Phil (he’s a DJ too, he’s got great equipment), Phil it in ha ha, yes fill it in and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Ah. Well…”
“Yes you put the song title and the artiste on them.”
“OK well…”
“If you only know one, it’s not ideal, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yeah, got it. I know, why don’t we take some round the bar?
“Good idea. Yes see what the crowd want. Get ‘em up dancing if they have the right music. Bloody ‘ell.” The record had ended, and the lone dancer had sat down whilst they had been talking.
The lads returned to the bar, whilst Parsons hurriedly put on Duran Duran.
As Parsons busied himself behind the decks, the lads wandered round the room filling in request slips. They returned to Parsons.
“Here Wilf we’ve brought the request slips back,” said Alex.
“Allright! Lets see… “Bodies – Sex Pistols” … I see someone else has chosen it too. Controversial but I like it!” He put on Bodies. The one drunken dancer who had got back up for Duran Duran sat down again.
“We’ll go and see what other requests we can get.”
The lads wandered off and filled in a few more forms. They returned to Parsons.
“Some more requests Wilf.”
“Aah…”Too Drunk by the Dead Kennedys”. Shame: I’ve not got that, but I have got ‘So What’ by the Anti Knowhere League…I’ll put it on. Quite a punky crowd this! Allright!”
After a while several people had left the bar. When the song ended Parsons announced “I’m gonna take a break now disco dancers, but there will be plenty more tunes in the Aylesbury Metal Equipment all night party!”
Tim and Alex were still standing by the disco, “Good gig tonight Wilf!”
“Yeah not too shabby. Gonna do some maintenance now.”
“On your disco?”
“Ya. I want to change one of me light box bulbs. I’ve got a 100 watter here. I don’t know how to change them. Do you?”
Tim looked at the lightbox. It consisted of a number of different coloured 60 watt bulbs. These flashed on and off in sequence.
“Well you just unscrew them like a normal lightbulb.”
“But wont I get burnt?”
“Well…These bulbs get very hot but… when it flashes off it will be cold.”
For the next 5 minutes the disco rang to the screams of Parsons as he tried to remove the bulb as it flashed off. Eventually he managed it, “Bloody ‘ell that was a bit tricky!”