Earthglade

Tma 01 result

2011-11-22T12:42:00.000-08:00

Woohoo got 73% on first Tma, well chuffed with mark and tutor comments. Onward and upward!

Activity 5.2 more script writing

2011-11-12T16:09:00.000-08:00

Scene 1 Friends like these

In JANE’s dining room seated round a dining table are her friends DSC. It’s their regular Tuesday coffee and cake morning. JANE is a busy person without a moment to spare. KATE is loud, confident, fashionable. SUE is timid. APRIL is very prim. They are all in their mid thirties. JANE enters carrying a tray CSL.

Kate: Been busy this week. Bought some lovely new scarfs didn’t we April me dear.

April: You purchased many scarfs. I could not find anything in that tatty shop you

dragged me into.

Jane: Here’s your coffee Kate.

Kate: Bless you dear. You’re an angel, Pete didn’t deserve you.

Jane: Eh yeah. Hmmm....sorry Sue no herbal, did you an earl with no milk.

Sue: (disappointed) Really!

Kate: Don’t fret pet. I got you a lovely scarf to brighten your day. (produces a bright red

scarf and drapes it around SUE’s neck)

Sue: (views the scarf suspiciously) Really!

Jane: Lovely scarf. Here’s your water April just how you like it chilled.

Kate: Oh I have one here for you somewhere Jane. (rummages in bag)

Jane: Ok. Back in a mo. (she hurries off CSL. APRIL lifts her glass and inspects it)

Kate: Gotta cheer up the poor gal in this time of need eh!

Sue: (gives KATE a confused stare) Really!

April: (nods in agreement and places her glass down precisely) Must admit, she is taking

it better than I would.

Jane: (re-enters with plate of biscuits CSL) Here we go ladies.

Kate: Here it is. (produces a rainbow coloured scarf and hands it to JANE) That should

bring a smile to your face.

Jane: Oh thank you. I have been kinda busy lately. No time for anything. Pete says I

always do too much.

Kate: You mean he used to say darling.

Jane: Er yes. Well it was last week so in the past I guess. Oh cakes. (rushes off CSL)

April: Poor thing. I think nerves have got the better of her.

Kate: Men will do that to you.

Jane: (rushes in with plate of cakes CSL) Freshly baked this morning.

Kate: Oh darling you shouldn’t go to all this trouble, we understand.

Jane: Understand what. (still holding plate)

April: (to KATE) You told me she knew.

Kate: Well I assumed she did. I mean who wouldn’t. Unless they were too busy to.... notice......

Jane: Notice what.

Kate: Oh darling. I saw Pete with another woman last week. I am sorry.

(the plate crashes to the floor)

Sue: (astonished look on her face) Really!

Activity 4.4 script writing exercise

2011-11-07T15:06:00.000-08:00

Scene 1 At the passport desk at a foreign airport

In a French airport. Backdrop is plain wall with gate number on it. A female attendant stands behind a desk with weighing scales on floor at one end, CS. Karen a lady in her thirties has her suitcase on the scales and stands at this end facing the attendant. They are alone as Karen is the last to board. Karen is pulling items of clothing out of the suitcase and throwing them on the desk.

Attendant: Madame your knickers are partout.

Karen: Say what?

Attendant: How you say; goieng everywhere.

Karen: Well you said my bag was overweight.

Attendant: Oui, oui but this is madness Madame.

Karen: (stops shoveling knickers) Is it right now?

Attendant: No Madame, c’est is half a kilogram over.

Karen: (places one more pair on desk) How about now?

Attendant: (picks up a thong and inspects) Oh zey are so petit but very elegant.

Karen: Is it enough?

Attendant: (drops thong) No Madame a little more.

Karen: Oh well these will have to go. (pulls a large pair out and hands them to

ATTENDANT)

Attendant: Ooh fabuleux bloomers Madame you should keep these, no.

Karen: I am not paying an extra 35 euros for bloomers.

Attendant: Madame you are throwing away many beautiful things, it is a waste.

Karen: You see, my husband gave me a tight budget for this trip; a certain amount

for shopping and a certain amount for travel. I saw these and could not resist them. I have already overspent on shopping, so I am trying to cut down on my traveling expenses. If I don’t he is going to get very mad at me.

Attendant: (puts down bloomers and picks up a see through pair) You could always

charm him with these, no?

Karen: No, that I am afraid would not work.

Attendant: (runs her fingers over the material) Zey would work on moi.

(pause)

Karen: Erm I .....you are a very attractive lady and ...... I mean there’s nothing

wrong in that.....I er..... I know, you have them.

Attendant: Oh Madame I am not allowed to take bribes or gifts from customers.

Karen: Well .....erm am I at the correct weight now?

Attendant: Oui Madame.

Karen: (quickly closing the suitcase) Thank you I must dash for my flight. (exits

SL)

Attendant: But Madame .....(waves knickers at KAREN)..... your knickers.

(ATTENDANT sighs, picks up waste basket and places the knickers in one by one. When she picks up the bloomers she looks around and puts them in her pocket.)

The show must go on

2011-10-31T11:37:00.000-07:00

Piece written for first assignment.

The show must go on

Matt sits there flicking the 60 watt bulbs surrounding the mirrors perimeter. Each one in turn blinks out then blinks back on when its neighbor is flicked. It is simple amusement for a troubled mind.

“Do you mind. That is annoying and they can break.” John glared at him from the next dressing table. “Anyhow it’s time you got ready.”

Matt sat there in just his checkered trousers. He picked up a red ball and perched it on his nose. He then proceeded to make faces in the mirror; mostly gruesome. “Matt will you grow up. You are nearly 19 for christ’s sake.” Matt frowned. “Whats got into you Matt? The only smile I see on you lately is the painted one.”

“Its not funny anymore dad. I am not funny anymore. The kids hate me; I hate the kids.”

“That’s not true son. I think…”

“You love the endless key stone cops stuff and the fact that our family have always known the circus life. You don’t know how mundane this has become to me. How I dread each day putting on this charade. I can’t follow in your size 32s it’s too much.” Matt stands with his back to the mirror, perspiration running down his bare chest.

“I am sorry son, I don’t know what to say.”

In the prolonged silence a female dancer strides through the dressing tent. “Oh hello sexy,” she titters. Then disappears.

Matts face at first begins to frown and then transforms into a mile wide grin. He turns and grips his fathers shoulders. “Thats it. Thats it. I will become a male stripper.”

John’s face pales under his makeup. “Er, a what?”

“It’s perfect. I can do an act with the clown suit to start with. I can keep the suit can’t I dad.”

“Now just a minute son. It’s bad enough that the circus is allowing outsiders in and adding Burlesque acts. No stripping, even management wont cross that line.”

“I didn’t mean here dad. I would set up in one of the cities we breeze through.”

John straightens and fixes his gaze. “You tried running away once before remember?”

“That was diff......”

“Ended up with that crazy bitch Andrea.” John’s voice is now trembling.

“We were in love.”

“LOVE! That so called love nearly killed you. This circus saved your life. You owe it.” John stands and pulls Matts red nose off and gesticulates at Matt with it. “If you don’t want this then do something else here.”

“I don’t want any part of this place dad. This circus is invading my very soul. I don’t feel right. At least when I went before I felt myself.”

“I forbid you to leave Matt. You belong here.” John sits down and stares into the mirror. “I have buried one family member already.”

Matt glares at his father. “Leave mum out of this. I have made up my mind. I am going to sort some costumes out.” He strides out of the tent.

John’s makeup is now tear stained. He removes his red nose and sets it down carefully on the table with his sons. He hears the sounds of someone approaching, grimaces and hurries out of the tent.

Grunting and cursing a young woman enters the tent from the opposite side. She is dragging a large heavy wicker basket. She comes to a halt, turns and rests on the edge of the basket. Whilst catching her breath she surveys the area. She spots the one bulb not lit on the dressing mirror and walks over to it. She flicks it and it springs to life. The bulb next to it goes out. She flicks this and the same thing happens. She frowns at the bulb and goes back to the basket. She flips the lid and lifts the top costume out in a cloud of dust. It’s a fur coat with huge brass buttons. She inspects it. A bit tatty, she thinks, but with a bit of work it could become the lion tamers new outfit. Apparently he got his last one shredded after the lion didn’t take to kindly to being used as a duvet when one drunken night the tamer got lost on the way to his bunk.

Matt enters from the opposite side of the tent with a determined look on his face. “Ah! That’s where the costume basket went. I need to.......” He grinds to a halt as the young woman turns to face him. He stares at her, slack jawed.

She stares back. “Well, there you are.”

“Yes,” he manages to utter.

“And here I am too,” she says.

“Yes.” The tennis match continues.

“So here we are, both of us .......together.”

“Talking.”

“Yes silly. Right here in this tent.” She grins at him.

“What the hell are you doing here Andrea?”

“I am the new wardrobe assistant. Isn’t it great.”

“What. Why? You have a job.”

“Oh I got bored with working in the fashion boutique. They never made use of my creative talents.“

“It’s your creative talents that nearly got me killed. Why get a job here of all places?”

“It was Jess who suggested it. Besides I missed you.” She strokes the material of the fur coat.

“You do everything Jess tells you, do you?”

“No! I.....she’s my friend. My best friend.” She tosses the coat on the floor and turns to retrieve the next costume. It’s a silk jesters outfit. She looks back over her shoulder. “You look great Matt.”

“What do you want Andrea?”

“Want. I don’t want anything. That’s lovely what you have on. What is it?”

“Its clown trousers.” He walks up to her and turns her to face him. “What do you want?”

She places her hand on his bare chest. “I have always admired your sense of humor Matt.”

“Andrea! I....”

The female dancer from earlier steps into the tent and stops. “Oh sorry! I will pop back later.” She leaves.

Andrea stares up at Matt. “What is that all about?”

“What?”

“That girl. Are you dating her?”

“Are you still popping those pills Andrea?”

“Oh no, not at all. I am all healthy now. I am going to the gym a lot. Although those machines make my back ache and I fell asleep in the jacuzzi the other day. When I woke up I had an incredible headache and now I keep hearing whooshing sounds in my head all the time.”

“Andrea! I know you. You want something.”

She stares into Matts eyes. “I want another shot at it.”

“At what?”

“At you. I want to make things better between us.”

“Oh no. Oh no. This is not happening. I can’t handle this right now.” Matt grasps Andrea and shoves her to one side, stumbles forward, grips the edge of the basket and stares into its depths.

Andrea circles Matt and flips the basket lid shut. This puts Matt off balance as he retracts his hands quickly and she pushes him onto the lid. She advances on him. “I know I am a mess up. I was reading in this magazine the other day that by the time you’re five you have developed the major patterns for the rest of your life. I mean whether you are going to be happy or ..... a fireman, a lesbian, whatever. It’s not fair I know.” She climbs on top of him and places the jesters costume across his chest. “I will change. There is something about this place that welcomes me and that means we will be good together.”

The female dancer reappears in the tent. “Sorry I need to use the dressing mirror. Don’t mind me.” She crosses to the nearest mirror and sits.

Matt pushes Andrea off and stands. “Andrea just stay away. I don’t know what to think right now. Please just....” He runs out of the tent.

Andrea glares at the dancer, throws the costume at her feet and follows him. “Wait Matt. I love you.”

The dancer sighs. Turns to do her makeup and notices the unlit bulb. She touches it. It comes to life and all the surrounding bulbs seem to brighten.

In walks John and spots her. “Gloria, have you seen Matt?”

“He’s just left with Andrea.”

“Oh for christ’s sake.” He slumps down in the chair next to her.

“He wants to leave the circus Gloria.”

She turns to him. “You know he can’t do that John.”

“I know, I know. It’s just he’s unhappy. Perhaps I should let him go.”

“Sarah left. Look what happened to her. The circus owns us John. It gave him a chance before and brought him back to us. If he leaves it wont give him a second chance.”

“You mean it used that bitch to bring him back. It looks like it’s using her again to make him stay.”

“It’s for the best John.”

“No it’s not. Not for Matt. I need to find a way to break the cycle. Perhaps if I leave that will do it?”

“You can’t win John.” She stands and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me and leave things well alone.” She leaves the tent.

He grasps the red noses, curses and throws them. He catches his tired reflection in the mirror. One by one the lights around the mirror go out. He disappears in the darkness.

A363 online exercise 1

2011-10-11T15:37:00.000-07:00

Online exercise 1

Matt sits there flicking the 60 watt bulbs surrounding the mirrors perimeter. Each one in turn would blink out then blink back on when its neighbor was flicked. It was simple amusement for a troubled mind.

“Do you mind. That is annoying and they can break.” His father glared at him from the next dressing table. “Anyhow it’s time you got ready.”

Matt had only managed to don his checkered trousers. He picked up a red ball and perched it on his nose. He then proceeded to make faces in the mirror; mostly gruesome. “Matt will you grow up. You are 24 for christ’s sake.” Matt frowned. “Whats got into you Matt? The only smile I see on you lately is the painted one.”

“Its not funny anymore dad. I am not funny anymore. The kids hate me; I hate the kids.”

“That’s not true son. I think…”

“You love the endless key stone cops stuff and the fact that our family has always known the circus life. You don’t know how mundane this has become to me. How I dread each day putting on this charade. I can’t follow in your size 32s it’s too much.” Matt stands with his back to the mirror, perspiration running down his bare chest.

“I am sorry son I don’t know what to say.”

In the prolonged silence a female dancer strides through the dressing room. “Oh hello sexy,” she titters. Then disappears.

Matts face at first begins to frown and then transforms into a mile wide grin. He turns and grips his fathers shoulders. “Thats it. Thats it. I will become a male stripper.”

His father’s face pales under his makeup. “Er a what?”

“It’s perfect. I can do an act with the clown suit to start with. I can keep the suit can’t I dad.”

“Erm sure.”

“I can start with the local clubs.” Matt grabs his fathers arm and leads him off.

“Where we going son?”

“To print some flyers to give out at this afternoons parade. This is ok with you isn’t it dad.”

“Er as long as you are happy son. Although running away from the circus is a new one.”

A363 Activity 2.10

2011-10-11T09:52:00.000-07:00

Activity 2.10

Calm, interested…..

She’s got the volume up again on that stereo next door. It’s tunes vibrate through my thin walls and lull me on my comfy sofa.

It means that soon I must go tap on her door and politely ask if she minds turning the volume down a bit. Then I can watch her wiggle her cute ass to the stereo as she leaves the door ajar and complies with my request.

She then offers me a cup of coffee in payment for being so inconsiderate. I will of course accept the terms of the punishment and indulge in the comforts of her sofa. She will then proceed to intoxicate me with her charms and we will soon be making our own music.

Irritated, distant…..

She’s got that bloody volume up again on that stereo next door. Its’s noise vibrates through my thin walls and disturbs my rest as i lay on my sofa. It means that soon I must go bang on her door and beg her to turn that racket down. She will then wobble her flesh on her journey to the stereo. As she turns it down with an evil grin on her face she will offer me a ‘coffee’ in penance for her sins. I will trudge wearily into the room and slouch down onto her well worn sofa and wait. Her dominant charms cannot be resisted and soon we will add to the noise of the day.

Karma strikes

2011-10-11T07:33:00.000-07:00

Hmmmmm my studying seems to have an obstacle to overcome lol

A363 Activity 2.6

2011-10-11T05:47:00.000-07:00

Activity 2.6

“The price of a cuppa is ridiculous now a days.”

Nathan looks up from his iphone as an elderly lady sits in the chair opposite him. She looks like she is wearing an outfit made from his mums awful flowered curtains and smells of roses. “Missus you have a strawberry crusha with a cherry on the top.”

“Yes young man very observant. I refused to pay £2 for tea when for only 25p more i can have this wonderful concoction.”

Nathan stares as he watches the old dear get comfortable and proceed to rummage through her hand bag. He glances round the cafe. All the other tables are empty. His iphone beeps at him and he returns to the endless stream of communication.

“Ah there it is.” She exclaims as a small leather journal is placed on the table. “Thats my ideas and memories place that is,” tapping the journals worn surface. Nathan ignores her. “I suppose that’s your modern day version is it?

Nathan sighs. “Missus this is my iphone. I speaks with my mates and it keeps me happy.”

“You don’t store ideas and memories on it then?”

“Well it can take pics and vids and access the internet and stuff. I don’t use it much for that kind of thing though, just chat and maybe games on the net.”

“So what do you do young man if you get an idea for something and need to write it down somewhere.”

“Well there’s probably an app for that. Although i don’t really get ideas, so no point.”

“Oh I get the most wonderful ideas. Too many to contain in the old noggin. So must have somewhere to write them down.” She picks up the journal and holds it out to Nathan. “Here have a look. I am sure you will find something to inspire you.”

“Look no offence missus. I am trying to have a conversation and was happy until you sat here.”

She places the journal down in front of Nathan and fixes her eyes on his. “Why do you talk to your friends on that. Why are they not here in person to have a proper conversation like i am trying to have.”

“Missus I have Leukemia and my friends have a life. Are you happy now.”

The old lady removed her fur hat exposing a matching bald head. “My journal details how i have survived 3 cancers.”

Nathan switched off his iphone.

A363 Activity 1.5

2011-10-02T12:50:00.000-07:00

Hi all

This is my attempt at this activity.

Activity 1.5

Invent your own characters and situation and write the first page of a story (up to 500 words) containing elements of style from one of the Mitchell narratives you have seen – historical seafaring; futuristic interview; post-apocalyptic story – or one of the genres you have not looked at – epistolary; farce; thriller. Consider the ways in which you might be writing with or against the grain of a particular genre.

The forest was perfect at 6am.

The earth beneath his feet was cold and moist.

He inhaled the sweet fresh air revitilising his weary body.

The sunlight had only just started to peek through the trees and illuminated his naked trek amongst a stirring, living, breathing being called earth.

It had been a long time since he felt this good, this alive. He remembered the intoxicating fumes of city life in the high rises. He had felt trapped and slowly dying from within. A number in this infinite world. A non entity. A rat in a cage. A victim in a game show. A ......... “Alert, alert incoming message imminent!”

“Wha.....What? Eh!”

Dave opened his weary eyes. Blinked and focused on his surroundings. He was in his pod on the 233rd floor. Shit he thought it was just a dream.

“Alert, alert message waiting. Please accept!”

Dave glances at the clock. “Its 3am for Christ’s sake!”

“You have been fined 3 credits for blasphemy. Your debt is now 432 credits.”

“Oh for f.....”

“Alert, alert message still waiting. Please accept!”

“Ok, ok I accept message.”

“Good morning Mr Jones. I hope all is well with you!”

“Eh no! Its 3am and I was in blissful sleep.”

“Even at this hour the world keeps turning and credits keep earning Mr Jones!”

“Hmmm not in my case.”

“That brings me to the purpose of my call Mr Jones. You have been pre selected as a possible candidate to fill an exciting vacancy at Value-Corp. This is your interview to assess your compatibility.”

“An interview at 3am. I am still in bed, naked and horizontal.”

“Your attire and current position are of no importance and will not affect the outcome of the interview. So please do not feel you have a disadvantage over the possible other 20,326 applicants.”

“So why should I apply? I mean with so many after the same job and....my pod and food and water is all provided free by, Value-Corp. It just seems pointless.”

“Mr Jones have you seen your credit status lately. Its not good. What you do not have is entertainment. To gain entertainment you need credits. Entertainment means friends and possible mating partners. With this role you will gain these much needed credits.”

“Groan. What is this vacancy and what do you need to know? Please be quick so I can get back to sleep.”

“That is very simple Mr Jones. Out of the 20,326 interviews taking place simultaneously, 19,489 have already been completed since we started conferring.”

“Just a number in an endless........”

“Excuse me sir?”

“Nothing carry on, just provide the information please.”

“I am happy to report that this exciting opportunity is for official tea maker, can you make tea?”

“What.....I....er.....no I cant make tea, machines make tea.”

“That is correct sir. Our new CEO is of Japanese origin and wishes the personal touch. You would be making tea 3 times a day. Are you sure you could not learn this skill in the next 24hrs?”

“No, I couldn’t! I don’t want to, now go away and let me sleep.”

“Are you declining to continue sir?”

“I am not listening anymore, goodnight!”

“Interview terminated at 3.06 am. 20,326 interviews concluded. 20,318 incompatible, 7 deaths and 1 incomplete. Will return to finish interview another time Mr Jones. Good day.”

“Holy shit!”

“You have been fined 5 credits for inappropriate language. Your debt.....”

“Shit!”

“You have been fined......”

“Shit!”

“You have......”

“Shit!”

A363 Activity 1.2

2011-09-26T09:34:00.000-07:00

Hi all
I have decided that as i work through the activities in the course book to post them here for peeps to comment on. Although the course starts this coming Saturday i have decided to get a head start. So here is activity 1.2.

Murder in the Morning

The church clock strikes eight, so those villagers who are awake know without checking that it is six. A cock crows. A body lies across the doorstep of the church, a line of crumb-carrying ants marches across the fedora covering its face. There is a serene, momentary quiet after the chimes cease. A figure glides past the church wall, before the silence is cracked by a baby crying.

Activity 1.2

Choose a title from activity 1.1 and write the next two or three paragraphs of the story (up to 500 words).

The sound of rubber screaming against steel echoes across the churchyard followed by the sounds of hasty movement. The babies cries are soothed. A figures footsteps crunch over fresh autumn leaves. They stop at cold feet. There is another serene moment as the voyeur expels hot breath into the cold air.

“Eh um!” the voyeur exclaimed.

Nothing stirred not even a mouse.

“Margery! Get up this instant, you are freaking me out.”

A cold hand raised and gripped the fedora and tossed it to one side. Dead eyes blinked and refocused on a mother and child.

“Oh hi Gloria, hows things?”

“Its Monday morning and one shouldn’t be finding her vicar in such a predicament when things need to be sorted in ones life.”

“What would these things..... be.....” she grunted whilst sitting up and stretching the blood back into her limbs.

“Things....things like the imminent christening of darling Jakey here.”

“Oh that thing....” straining as she gets to her feet. “That thing with you and jakey.. um jake... is two... months away.”

“One can never be too organised and it’s your fault you were too booked up to fit us in earlier. God knows why, you seem to have time to lie around on cold hard floors.”

“Language! ....I am trying to write a murder scene and I needed to get into my characters head to feel the.....”

“Ambiance?”

“Yes that.....Gloria why do you act posh, you’re as posh as a rusty kettle and ride a bicycle with a basket on it for goodness sake.”

“One must do ones thing for the environment and why do you, write that drivel? A lady of the cloth should be more refined and in tune with life. Not dwell on death.”

“Talking of death. I have 3 funerals to arrange so jakes arrangements will have to wait I am afraid Gloria.” She brushes herself down and turns to go inside.

She stops dead in her tracks and stares beyond the closed inner door.

The moment seems to last forever. “Margery.....Margery! You are freaking me out again, only standing up this time.”

Margery turns slowly on her heels and cocks her head to one side as an owl does when sizing you up. “What did you say?”

“What! What do you mean are you being flippant?”

“What did you just say Gloria? Your last sentence.”

“Oh I said you should act like a lady should.”

“No, no the last bit, dwell something?”

“Dwell on death. Not dwell on death to be precise.”

“Ah ha! You see someone is dwelling on death.” She raises her hand and waggles her finger at Gloria. Gloria goes crossed eyed. “That is what they are missing. That is the connection.” Margery hugs a stunned Gloria and disappears inside.

“Well I never!” Gloria shrugs and stomps out of the yard. “Come on Jakey we are obviously not welcome here today. What is the world coming to when your vicar wont even listen to you?”

Reflections on life

2011-09-22T17:04:00.000-07:00

Hi guys

I have just finished watching a great film called 'Eat Pray Love'. It is one of those films that get you thinking about ones life and its problems. Mine would be the inability to really chill and let loose and stop worrying about what people think of me. So hence this blog. I want to share my writing and take any comments that come along, so i will start with 2 chapters of a story i wrote for an end of course piece from last year which was marked but never received any feedback on, enjoy or not :)

Misdemeanors in Time

Damn it?

Marcus Tullius wearily trudged through the blood soaked earth as he searched for the booty of war that would enhance his legionary pay. The mud oozed through his toes and cooled the blisters of many days marching. This is a glorious campaign against the Germanic horde, he and his cohort honored themselves before Jupiter Capitolinus this day.

Marcus stopped in his tracks. There dangling from the hand of a fallen Gaul was a necklace inlaid with semi precious gems. Just to make sure, he unsheathed his gladius and slid its point into the bodies giving flesh. With the gladius still impaled he grasped the necklace and tore it from its deathly grip.

As he held the necklace up to the moonlight to admire its beauty he was blinded by a very bright light. Bolts of lighting struck the earth within feet of him, the air crackled. Is Jupiter himself paying him a personal visit. The light faded and steam arose from the earth. Out of it stepped a cloaked figure. Its head pale and thin with hair long and scruffy like the Gauls he slaughtered. This beast stared at him through the bottoms of wine bottles fastened to its hideous face. Then amazingly it spoke.

“Er Hi! I don’t suppose this is hampstead heath and I am in the middle of a war re enactment?”

Marcus stared in disbelief. What should he do? This obviously wasn’t Jupiter. Perhaps it was the Gauls god come to take retribution upon him. The beast spoke again.

“I mean if it is. You guys have done a great job with the fake bodies and all.”

Marcus sensed the creature was scared. Maybe he had the upper hand and could overpower the beast and gain even greater reward. He slid his gladius out of the body and the earth gathered the fluids hungrily. The beast babbled further.

“Ah, that looks real!” The beast glanced around him at the uniforms. “I would hazard a guess at 101 BC Battle of Vercellae Cisalpine Gaul?”

Marcus stood and presented the point of his weapon to the beast. It bleated.

“Darn it not again. This damn device will be the death of me.”

The creature produced a wondrous artifact and shook it at Marcus.

“Oh allow me to introduce myself, Fred Spog at your service, and you are?”

Marcus let loose his most ferocious war cry.

“Shit!” I turned on my heels and fled, hurdling any bodies in my way. I always hated my PE teacher for pushing me until my whole body ached. I now thanked him.

I was out running my screaming banshee when my foot caught an outstretched arm and I took a tumble, rolled and was back on my feet clutching an embroided cloak. “Oh, nice stitching,” I thought. My roman friend was upon me and lunged. I side stepped at just the right moment sending my foe sprawling into the mud. It started to rain heavily as I stepped forward and found that the chap who wanted to skewer me had knocked himself unconscious. I turned the legionary over so he wouldn’t drown and admired the weight of his gladius before returning it to its sheath. I stepped back, sighed, fiddled with some dials on the timepiece and was gone.

I found myself facing the wall in a corner of a dimly lit office. My oversized overcoat dripping onto the lino. A thought passed through my mind. Sam Stone ace detective!..... Why couldn’t I be that guy instead of Fred Spog tracker of rare and unusual technology. I tugged at my sleeve that was embedded in the wall.

“Damn not again! I have been through so many overcoats I should add it to my expenses,” I whispered.

I slip off my overcoat and it squelches to the floor. Straighten my bow tie, paw at my unshaven chin, brace myself and turn on my heels. Nothing, empty! The brass buttons on my bright red jacket glint in the light. This was a bonus for completing my last assignment. The client had assured me that it was genuine Beatles, as worn by Ringo Starr. I was having trouble trying to get my mustache to match. Not that it mattered too much, as I was currently reluctant to part with some of my other bonuses; which included bermuda shorts and world war one trench boots. My latest client at least had promised me the porter trousers with gold piping as worn by Tim Curry in the Home Alone 2 movie. I decided that I needed to be more assertive when it came to bonuses and not let myself be led by my clients. I glanced out of the window and recognised the street outside, I was in the offices of the insurance agents two streets from my home. I smiled.

“Perhaps I should put in a claim on my overcoat.”

I prised open the window and slid down the drainpipe. I fastened the roman cloak around my shoulders and bounded away like Zorro to my bed.

WTF?

I lay in my bunk pondering the previous days activities. Life was getting complicated. I stared at the numerous world war two aircraft dangling from the ceiling. They knew my secret. I imagined them swooping down upon me, wave after wave. Their bullets hammering into me like my mother’s scorn. My excuses had become pitiful. I had taken down multi million dollar companies, exposed evil tyrants and tippy toed through deadly minefields. Yet facing my mother with the truth was unbearable.

She will be knocking on that door anytime soon, wanting to know what I have been up to. Using the modeling club to cover my antics had become difficult since she interrogated Billy last spring. Billy wasn’t happy. She enticed him into the parlor with homemade scones and jam. Then demanded information on my current activities, whilst waving a metallic spatula in his face. He had to give up the modeling club after that, his hand was not steady anymore. I had even come up with the idea of inventing a girlfriend, perfect I thought. It’s difficult leaving the house when your mother is literally clinging to your ankles sobbing. Why didn’t I love her anymore? How could this girl be so mean and take her baby away from her? In the end I had to pretend a breakup from the imaginary girlfriend as my mother wanted to meet the bitch responsible for her misery. She was happy as pie again. Although she did offer to track down and sort out this girl who had broken her poor didums heart.

I decided that it probably best to face Armageddon in attack mode and left my room before my mother gained the high ground. I made my way down to the kitchen and my favorite chair with the padded cushion that my Gran had lovingly embroided a heart on for me.

My morning egg sported a fetching red and white striped cosy with silver stars. This confirmed to me that it was indeed Friday. A different cosy for every day, my sleep deprived mind uttered. That and the fact that mother was lusting over the milk man at the door who had brought our weekly dairy order.

“Oh Frank, I am a little short of cash this week. Will you take payment in kind?” she offered letting the strap of her floral nightie slip off her shoulder.

Frank looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming bus. He shook as he spoke.

“That’s ok mam ....just pay at the office.”

He leaped into his milk float and sped off at 10mph. Mum cast him one of her withering looks that could turn milk into cottage cheese.

She shut the door just as the grandfather clock announced its regular hourly chime.

“Fred!” she shouted as she entered the kitchen. “It’s 8am and you haven’t touched your egg yet. Leave them specs alone. You wont have any glass left in them at this rate.”

I sighed and thanked god it was Friday. I looked forward to my modeling club tonight. I was building my own Lancaster bomber from scratch. Perhaps I could model it on my mother, I mused as I smashed my spoon through the eggs shell.

I didn’t like my job. It played havoc with my social life and had reduced my visits to my cherished modeling club. I now stood in a brightly light office after escaping from my mother’s interrogation at breakfast through the back door. My replacement overcoat is tightly wound round my wiry frame. My owl like eyes peek out from underneath my Bogart hat and scrutinised my latest client.

“Will you stop pacing up and down matey,” I thought eyeing my clients frantic movements behind his polished oak desk.

I fished in my pocket, pulled out a screwed up scrap of paper and waved it in my clients direction.

“My.....my, expenses are noted..... d..d...down for your appraisal,” I stammered. My client stopped pacing and slammed his fists down on the table, making me jump.

“Director Grant! Of the FBI!” I said standing my ground. “Will you for once in your m..mighty existence sit down and listen.”

I had been through hell these past three days. The mission to retrieve the device had nearly ended in disaster. Of course there where always, what the director called ‘discrepancies’ in the way that I operated under mission conditions. No matter how much the director moaned I always got the job done. I gave my mission report with added ‘discrepancies’ this time.

I had successfully infiltrated the underground bunker by means of the tea lady. Apparently Maud had always been there, even before it had become a secret bunker and considered part of the brotherhood. She had felt like part of the furniture; like the grandfather clock waiting patiently in the lobby, reliable and admired by all. I had bumped into her accidentally on purpose in the local coffee shop. I had then gained her life story over a full course breakfast I had provided her with to make up for my clumsiness. She thought it nice that someone had given her breakfast for once and that lately she felt more like the tarnished teapot that had been replaced with that monstrous vending machine that spewed forth muddy concoctions.

I expressed my good fortune upon meeting her as I wished to play a practical joke upon an employee of the bunker who had wronged me. I explained that going in through the lengthy security checks would alert my foe to my presence and spoil the fun. The idea gripped her elderly body and a glint of life entered her sullen eyes. She proposed that I dressed in her oversized overalls and patterned headscarf and entered through the trade entrance with her keycard. She explained to me her daily routine and expressed relief of gaining a day off from her toil.

The Siamese cat was a problem I hadn’t foreseen. It knew! I still bare the marks of its claws where it had slid down my back after rugby tackling my face. Maud had neglected to tell me that cuddles slept in the doorway of the very room I needed to enter. She had sniffed me and transformed in an instant from overwhelming cuteness to feline epilepsy. I was not proud of what happened next. In my pain I turned as she reached the floor and punted her. She sailed through the air with a look of shock on her face and disappeared down the garbage shute. I wondered if the furnace was lit today. Stumbling into the room I blacked out for a couple of minutes. When I came to a siren was whistling down my ears. Had cuddles been found. I quickly by passed the security checks on the safe holding the device and bolted for the exit. I was met with strange looks as I hurtled past employees in the halls. I was floral decadence as I had also partaken of Maud’s perfume which she had eagerly offered me and this now wafted around my nostrils and made me think that I could possibly have a future in drag. I vaguely then remembered throwing the keycard at the exit door and disappearing into the night.

Director Grant steadied himself in his chair. He fixed his gaze.

“Mr Spog! The device reprograms your brain with new memories. You have been gone for two weeks.”

He placed the retrieved metal box on the table and opened its many catches. Inside was a bag of jelly babies.

I sank into the nearest chair. C.R.A.T.E.R (CRiminal And TErrorist Republic) had beaten me this time. What bothered me though, more than anything, is what had happened to me in the missing 11 days and how was I going to explain it to my mother. I caught the directors gaze and feebly uttered.

“I suppose the porter trousers are no longer up for grabs then?”

“Mr Spog. It would be pertinent for you to have a little holiday from tracking for a while. You are at the moment considered a security risk and will no longer be under assignment with this agency until this risk has been cleared. I would take that timepiece from you, but I don’t want to lose more agents.”

Director Grant was referring to the time when they had discovered my special qualities and instead of initially recruiting me, had tried to remove the timepiece from me. Resulting in the agents that tried disappearing to god know’s where. I had managed to find one agent who was about to be burnt at the stake and rescue him from medieval England. Agent Jones had at least managed to give up smoking after that as he could no longer bare to be near any naked flame.

“That will be all Mr Spog!” the director bellowed.

I strolled out of the office and wandered the streets for hours munching on the bag of jelly babies I had swiped and was dismayed that there wasn’t many green ones in the packet.

Upon zapping back home I re entered through the back door and crept into the darkened kitchen. A blinding light met my gaze and a mother’s scorn descended upon me. After repeatedly hitting me across the back with a frying pan and accusing me of motherly neglect, she had relented and left me uttering that I was not her Freddy anymore and that I had changed over the last week.

I climbed into my bed, sore. I at least now knew that I had been coming home regularly during my missing days. I drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep and dreamed. Images of death, strange characters and garden gnomes flashed through my mind. I awoke with a start after a particularly vicious gnome was about to labotomise me. My wide eyes fixed on the lone chair in my room. In it sat a young girl of Asian decent.

“Hello Fred. Remember me?”

OU week 1

2011-09-22T04:23:00.000-07:00

Argggghhhh! The start of the course is upon me!

My main concern at the moment is whether i can do the work in the timespan allowed.

After checking in on the Facebook page for this course my fears are somewhat reduced as peeps are stating that the Tma’s are mostly ongoing work and not independent reams of story.

See Facebook group for further reassurance :o) http://www.facebook.com/groups/a3632011/