So back in university I started writing a story in a particularly dull lecture. My good friend John stole the book after I finished the first page and added his own, and before I knew it the book had been passed down the line and the strange story was complete I present it here uneditied without comment...

Well OK one comment, I was young, I'm much better at writing now. Be gentle, dear reader. Be gentle...

 

The Watchers

 

Mark lay down in the uneven ditch, the silky smooth grass brushing his bare leg uncomfortably. Lifting his head slowly over the edge he scanned the area around him. The ditch in which he lay sat at the bottom of a small hill, beyond that he knew lay 14 acres of uncultivated fields, his father’s fields. The darkness, however, had changed these fields into an alien landscape, the darkness and the watchers. The darkness all around echoed with the shrill cries, grating his nerves like a unscratchable itch. He knew they were searching for him and only the devil’s own luck had kept him alive thus far. 

 

Mark ducked his head as a plume of light erupted to his left. The momentary light illuminated his foe, dressed head to toe in black leather studded with steel. The soldier’s gangly look was offset by his stooped walk, his eyes tiny dark points in the long sallow face. In his hands he carried a long thin sword with a wicked looking serrated edge. In his other hand he held a small torch, the burst of light, mark realised was caused by him spitting oil onto the torch. The afterimage burned in his mind, momentarily robbed of his night vision he slid to the depths of the ditch and felt the reassuring weight of his sword.

 

"Come out, come out wherever you are," hissed the soldier. "We will find you sooner or later." Again the light burst forth briefly before the world was plunged into darkness.

 

"Jimmy get down these stairs now you little bastard." Jim dropped the book he had been reading

 

<New Writer>

 

"Shit," he cursed under his breath as he scrambled under his desk to recover the lost book. Jamming his bookmark in a random page he stalked down stairs to see what the dippy mare wanted now. As he stood at the bottom of the stairs, Jimmy became aware that something was watching him. Alan his pet hamster had just awoken from a day long sleep, and was running aimlessly around his hamster wheel.

 

As he turned into the Livingroom, Jimmy felt a tremble down his spine as he anticipated yet another lecture from his mother. She sat there still as a rock eyes transfixed to the window, staring for an eternity into the fields overlooking Jimmy's house. Seeing his mother’s dull gaze he knew she was preparing herself to inform Jimmy of the terrible new he hadn't yet heard. So Jimmy removed the cap from his head, put out his fag and started to flick a few out at his bewildered mother.

 

<New Writer>

 

"Jim... Jimmy... Tim... Timmy... Mark," the puzzled, flustered mother figure by the window muttered. "Timmy... Tim... Tim... You're living a lie... Timmy... Mark."

 

"Oh for Christ's sake woman. What the fuck are you talking about this time? You can't control me. Whatever. I'll do what I want. Bitch-ho. Slag canister."

 

Jimmy's spine continued to tremble and shiver profusely, as he stood quivering. He never knew what she would come out with next, but still couldn't resist baiting her. If she said one more stupid, irritating thing, he knew what he'd do. His plan was to tie the daft bint to Jimmy Hill (how was currently in his cellar), with a tube of gerbils (just to taunt Alan his hamster. The thing was cute, but a pointless cunt really.) in between them, and then burn them both. Burn them!

 

<New Writer>

 

All this bad feeling was exercised in theory in Jimmy's bible simply titled "How to be a Jewish Rent-o-kill". This had always been his dream and now he was one step away from achieving that status with his mother. But there was one major flaw in his plan, no-one had actually paid him to kill his own mother. He would sort this problem. "Hold that thought I'll be right back," he said. 

 

He jumped into his trainers and flew towards the door. For you see those trainers were no ordinary trainers, they were magic! He asked the first person he came across. It just so happened to be his Grandmother, who was on her way to visit. She was a retarded old midget with a lazy eye and a wooden leg and elbow (because of the Falklands) but hey if she could pay thirty five pound standard rate, bullet in the left nipple, Jimmy could quite easily forget he was part of a family plagued with incest. Grandmother spoke first.

 

"Woodchippings!" she said.

 

"What?" Jimmy replied.

 

"Woodchippings for Alan. It will make he teeth feel more earthly!" I don't know why she had to shout all the time, after all she was the deaf one, not I.

 

"Yeah Nan, that's fantastic, can I ask you a quick probing, no questions asked, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, shift unshifty question?"

 

"Why certainly!" She said. "Just let me get this stone out of me sock!" Leprosy had obviously began to ravage his grandmother's feet, more specifically the small toe.

 

"Would you like me to kill your daughter for thirty five quid so I can become a Jewish Rent-o-kill?"

 

"Why obviously, just don't spend it all at once dear!" she exclaimed. 

 

He pocketed the money and went back indoors. Seven seconds and a pistol bullet later, Jimmy began his career dream as a Jewish Rent-o-kill. Jimmy sat down for a brief moment, his mother's blood strewn across his clothes. He began to daydream. He dreamt of buying a nice convertible for drive by shootings, joining the Jewish Mafia which was his ultimate goal for himself being Jewish and a Rent-o-kill. He shook those thoughts out of his head and this thought turned to more pressing matters. 

He stood up. "Fishcakes!" he boldly presented to himself and off he went to the freezer, leaving his mother’s corpse to slowly rot besides, Jimmy liked the smell. As he set the cooker to roughly 200 degrees C, gas mark 6 for 6-12 minutes. His grandma then peered her one good eye through the door window.

 

"Room for one more?" she said.

 

"Waste not want not, waste not want not." And with that Jimmy had an idea. He pulled up a chair for Grandmother before she fell apart and reached for Alan. He took him out of the cage and pushed Alan towards the corpse. "Go on mate, tuck in," he said. His evil eyebrow turned to his Grandmother.

 

<New Writer>

 

Removing an axe he had secreted about his person Jimmy the Jewish Rent-o-kill headed towards his gran. Then there came a great explosion and an angel fell from the sky in a flurry of lesbian dust. 

 

"Thou shalt not kill thine Granny, Jimmy," she whispered gently massaging her manga breasts. "For she put you upon this trail if Jewish Rent-o-kill." And with that she rose to the heavens pausing to drop a soggy bundle to the floor. Jimmy hastened to the bundle only to find that one of the hamster pom-poms had fallen from the angel's coat.

 

"Hey Alan," called Jimmy. "Got a playmate for you." Alan the hamster crawled out from a packet of prawn cocktail quavers and squeaked.

 

<New Writer>

 

"I'm dumped, she's a lesbian. I thought I had found the one. We were good to get married in my mind, but married in your mind's no good." You see when the lesbian angel with the manga breasts had appeared in the sky, she had spilled a little too much lesbian dust -  she was a bit dappy really. Some of the extra lesbian dust had got into the quaver packet; which was where Alan and a girl hamster called Mel had been fucking each other’s brains out for the past couple of hours... days... weeks.. Who knows? But suddenly Mel the hamster had stopped with a panicked cry of "Withdraw! I don't fancy you, you have a penis!" Because excess lesbian dust had got all over her (they had been rolling about quite a lot in the quaver packet)... proving that you can have too much of a good thing.

 

The End.

 

Wow, just wow... terrible...I'm sorry world. If it helps I only wrote the first part... again I'm sorry...