A fisherman's tale.

"How come you get to bring me my dinner?" His words tailed of as somewhere nearby a shrill blood curdling scream pierced the air. "Oh no it sounds like Supervox must have parped,judging by the reaction." As they stared to where the scream had come.....

...As they stared to where the scream had come.....

there was total panic and confusion so since Lord Lucan had been rumbled, he slipped the gas mask and balaclava back on so he could breathe normally again then quietly slipped off down the corridor towards the screams, safe from the suffocating stenchy guff from Supervox's bum chuff (that had descended like a pea souper fog in the confined corridors, knocking out all the prison officers in its wake) only to find that the Vox man...

[Supervox]

. . . was sat in the coridoor wondering :-

(a) Why he was there in the first place
(b) What all the fuss was about

Finally he figured it out -

He was there to bail Sr Henry, but - now he'd 'let rip' he had a decision to make - should he :-

(a) Save his hard earned money, nick a set of keys from a guard & let Peter out - thereby making himself & Peter fugitives

(b) Leave the bail money along with a note on the front desk explaining what he'd done

(c) Forget the whole thing as it was a naff idea in the first place

After a few minutes contemplation he decided to . . .

return the hand made full leathers with kenny Everett like gap in the rear, and to try to adopt a more low key form of attire when cruising on his Kymco V twin. This decision did not come easy as he felt that his standing in motorcycling circles was not now as it was in the days when....

[Supervox]

. . . he used to terrorise the poor population of Lymington on his trusty TS 125 - screaming up & down the high street on 1 wheel; scaring the living daylights out of the 'twitchers' on & around the many marshland trails & generally behaving in a manner that Peter could only dream of.

If only his sturdy fire-engine red C90 had that little bit more power - not too much more you understand, nothing like as much as the fire-breathing beast of a Burgman previously mentioned in this tale - just enough for him to be able to . . .

Outpace a Fireblade over the first 2 feet from any drag start from traffic lights. He had a devilish plan forming though, and this involved the fitting of an open under seat exhaust to finally unleash the beast from within....then...Supervox would be history.

As he pondered away in the distance he could see....

[Supervox]

. . . some sort of ceremony taking place.

As he wandered closer, his curiosity now aroused (much the same state as when he sits astride the mighty C90) - he was certain that he recognized some of the people attending this gathering. Suddenly, there was music coming from a pair of giant speakers - THE WEDDING MARCH - it couldn't be could it ? No, it wasn't possible was it ? But sure enough, there right before his eyes, about to be married were . . .