So there‘s me and London Jimmy strolling down the Kings
Road and he says he’s just seen The Who.
“Where?” I ask him. ‘Cause I’m thinking he must mean he’s
seen them at one of this city’s fine rock ‘n’ roll venues – you know, like the
O2 or Hammersmith Palais.
“No...no...you’ve missed them,” Jimmy tells me. “They
must have disappeared into a shop”.
“Like Harrods?” I ask him my friend, sarcastically.
“Don’t be stupid. Do you see Harrods?” He asks me.
“So you’re telling me, you’ve just seen The Who, all of
them out shopping together?”
“And your problem is?” He sneers back.
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
“Including Keith Moon?” I ask, drawing him into a trap.
“Including Keith Moon,” he assures me.
“But he’s dead,” I say with a ‘that’s one to me, stick that in your pipe and smoke it’ kind of
look, “And so’s the bass player,” I add with a final flourish.
London Jimmy continues walking up Kings Road ahead of me
and I’m ‘oh, ho’, he must be in a
huff. Then he stops, looks around and says...
“You are a twat and a Scottish twat at that.”
Then he disappears into a shop where he’s probably
pursuing The Who.
Okay, me and London Jimmy have had our sticky moments
but we’ve had some of life’s great adventures, as well.
One fine summer’s day, me and London Jimmy were heading
down to a pub at London Bridge to me meet some TV punter or other – Steve
someone - as London Jimmy wants to tell him a few of our stories,
and believe me we’ve got more than a few to tell.
Me and LJ are the first in this rather Dickensian pub, I
have a rather cheeky wee Italian beer and he has a Skittle’s Vodka – now you’re
sitting there thinking ‘what’s a Skittle’s Vodka’ and I would have to tell you
that it’s Skittle sweeties and vodka. Now if you don’t mind, can I get on with
the story?
So this “Media Guy” - yes I did just make rabbit signs
with my fingers. This “Media Guy” fails to show but instead in walks this
rather charming and minging wee man by the name of Cuthbert, something we find
out after we’ve bought him his third Skittle’s Vodka. Curiosity had gotten the
better of him and he asked what London Jimmy was imbibing (that’s the way
Cuthbert talks).
And the end of a quite charming and yet heavy session
Cuthbert, London Jimmy and myself retire to Cuthbert’s set of apartments just
off Zampa road.
Turns out that Cuthbert is both an alien and a Millwall
supporter. Yeh, you heard me right, a Millwall supporter. It seems that he’s
been here for years waiting on the mother ship to take him back home and while
he was waiting, he thought he would take in a game of footie to while away the
hours. He is an official member of the Neil Harris fan club.
Apparently Cuthbert has been here, on earth, for a good
wee while and has known all the great and the good. For instance, when Millwall
first started up as a bona fida football club in 1885, Cuthbert was there
watching all the early footie matches. It was at one of those games that he met
the great writer Robert Louis Stevenson (or Scottish Bob as Cuthbert called
him) – Cuthbert swears that it was him who gave Scottish Bob the idea of
writing Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde – on account of Cuthbert’s temper.
It was apparently Cuthbert’s temper that got him into
trouble more than once. In 1888, when Millwall were having a particularly bad
season Cuthbert found himself walking around the East End with a good drink in
him. Aliens aren’t that good at drinking apparently and well, he would wake up
in the morning covered in blood and with surgical equipment beside him.
“You get drunk a few times and they start calling you
Jack the Ripper”
London Jimmy said it sounded better than Cuthbert the
Ripper and we all had to agree.
So where is all this going to end with Cuthbert?
Well Cuthbert says he’s staying on in Earth until
Millwall win the FA Cup.
We’ll see.
thoughtcontrol ltd
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