Hello big boy, pick me up – Oo! What a strong grip you have !
- hold me - go on - shove it in ! you know you want to – pleeze !
- right up my chamber,– yes !- yes ! - squeeze me now !

He felt the gun jump in his hand even before he heard the shot.

He weighs the gun in his hand,
“It is a nice piece… Ok, I’ll take it and throw in a couple of clips”

He looks around for the store keeper.

“ Hey ! Hello, any one there...”

He notices blood spattered over the wall and the shelves,
He leans over the counter and sees the corpse of the sales assistant.

”Oh ! Shit! - Oh No, Crap ! Not Another One !
And I was doing real good this week !”

“… Err Yeah, Um, sorry, pall.”
“ Oh well, its not all gloom, - Got a Free Gun !”

Shoving the pistol into the back of his belt, casually draping his jacket over one shoulder, ( covering the pistol ) he strolls out of the gun store into the bright sunlight. He nonchalantly puts on his shades.

It was going to be another hot day…

* Title was the name of my late friend Len Lewys’ animation studio.
Illustration by DrFilmgood click to view.

…

Me
“Yeah ! its a bind ain’t it ? I’ve got M.A.B.”
Patients
“Uh? Eh? Wa? What is M.A.B ?”
Me
“M.A.B ? – M.A.B is a big horse!”
Patients
“What? Eh? Hu?!”
Me
“Yeah!  M.A.B is a Big Horse!
Me, singing
“♫ Em Ay Bee is a Big Horse I’m a Londoner ♫ that I love London so ♫…”

…

I’m not Actually a Londoner, but I am on the spectrum.

Song by Hubert Gregg

Excerpt from 1^st year introductory History Lecture.

“…So as we can see it has been conclusively proved that the collapse of 20^th-21^st century civilisation can be traced directly back to the disappearance of Milk Men. “

The breakdown of society started immediately upon their abolition ( circa 1979 ) and the seizure of Services by Criminal gangs, the privatisation of compassion & the out sourcing of hope,  – which lead inevitably to  – homelessness, inflation, plague, addiction, famine, Envy, self-importance, despair, economic collapse, family breakdown & many other social ills, culminating in children amusing themselves by stabbing each other to death.

Prior to this period, as unofficial social workers, Milkmen & Milkwomen, would befriend their customers: -  keep an eye on them, ( watch out for bottles mounting up on the doorstep ) change light bulbs, keep tabs on Ne’erdowells and generally maintain the wellbeing of society.

Similarly other working class ‘Prefects’ who kept society functioning also disappeared, ie: bus conductors & window cleaners  ( un-afraid of heights & ladders ) etc.

Conductors for example were the Captains of their bus – their word was law - after they were phased out lone bus drivers ended up in bullet proof cabs !...

Thankfully after the devastation of ‘The Spillage ’ of 2029,

Our enlightened Milk Based regime was established by our glorious leader The Milk Monitor, civil society was restored to order by his heroic, Milkmen of Human Kindness.

Now that peace, order & contentment have been established, we graze on the bounteous generosity of the Milkmen Of Human kindness & their daily soothing deliveries.

So let us raise our glasses & salute our great leader,

Humphrey the First  –  The Milk Monitor !

…Melksham - the town where Condensed Milk was invented.

The Cruise ( Tales of the expected ).

Despite his reluctance, aging lothario, Richard Cadman embarks on a cruise looking for victims – mature women with big bouncy bank accounts.

But the thought of being trapped on board at the scene of the crime brings on a slight feeling of claustrophobia and a thought occurs to him: the ship might have a swimming pool – a pool on a ship sailing on the sea !

He shrugs off the strangely unsettling thought, the potential pickings on board outweighing any neurotic fixations.

Over lunch he chats to a nice widow and drops into the conversation.

“I’m an amateur jeweller, oh just a little hobby of mine, just for fun you know !

he chuckles.

“I’m never without my loupe !” 

He examines her jewellery…

After lunch, a quiet time, the passengers dozing off their refreshments.
He seeks her out.
Being a professional he drank very little.

But she has gone for a dip in the ship’s pool.
where she notices a child playing with a toy boat.

Her sudden piercing scream echoes throughout the ship.

She cries out.

“In The Pool ! – A Child- THE POOL ! A BOAT …with…a boat !
A  toy ! boat … in pool …A CHILD !…has…pool…Boat on the Toy.. boat …we are…Pool…boat -  CHILD…Aaaagh !

The Purser is soon on the scene.

Mr Cadman explains to the Purser.

“We chatted over lunch, seemed such a nice lady, a widow, childless you know.”

He says sympathetically.

The purser responds.

“Oh yes ! a certain age, too much sherry, yes yes, childless ? yes yes, the sun the sea air, motion sickness, oh yes the nerves you know, oh yes we see this kind of thing quite often”.

The Purser clears his throat and comforts the distressed widow.

“Now then Miss ..there there …come along now, a nice cup of tea and a little lie down yes, yes, that’s the ticket.”

He confides to Cadman.

“I’ll look in on her Sir, oh yes, leave it to me Sir, I’ll keep my eye on her…”

Cadman & the Purser exchange looks.

Cadman exclaims under his breath.

 “Damn ! a good prospect wasted”.

Her nerves will make her immune to his charms. So now he is back to square one - finding another victim and the passengers, agitated and on the defensive.

And there is that unsettling feeling again and no escape.

 “Hmm. What to do” ?

While deciding on whether to cut his losses and enjoy the trip or try to find another prospect, he finds he has wandered to the stern of the boat and the ship’s swimming pool where he notices a child in the pool playing with a boat.

Perhaps he had more to drink than he thought or perhaps it’s all the excitement.

But suddenly fifty years evaporate and he is a boy again.

“Oh I say! What fun - I used to sail my model boats with Nanny on the Serpentine…Ah, happy days.
Do you mind if I have a look sonny ?
Very nice, Oh and very detailed too“.

He takes out his loupe & examines the model ship.

He notices the toy ship has a swimming pool, and in the pool of the model ship is a tiny model of a ship and on that tiny model there… is a pool…and…in the pool…a…ship…with a model…and…!

Then with a start & a choking gasp.

“ The POOL!... on the ship…a toy boat…She said.. With a pool and a toy boat in it…with…a.. POOL AND A boat …with…Aaagh ! Nooo !”

At the sound of his cries several passengers and crew rush to help.

The child cringes away from the shouting old man and reaches out to retrieve his boat just as Mr Cadman turns his head mid scream and sees the gigantic face of a child looming above and a huge hand reaching down from the sky towards the ship !

by Grant white

Our digital doggy chums are gathered round their PC looking at a lunar website

cut to screen -diagrams of planetary motion etc.

Rex-

It says here ‘the Moon is 300 hundred times smaller than the Sun, but its 300 times nearer, so it looks the same size’

Wendy -

( sarcastically ) - Oh, fascinating, can we look at something interesting now?

Bob

- Coo! lets see

Bob leans forward blotting out the light

Rex + Wendy

-  Oy! get out of the light.

Bob

I was only looking

Rex

Well you’ll have to look from somewhere else, your causing an eclipse of the monitor on account of your immense mass and being 300 times bigger than the light bulb

points to standard lamp in the corner

Vince

- snigger

Wendy

Yeah you're so massive you are almost a black hole !

Bob

I’m not!… I’m just big boned.

Bob goes of to sulk in the corner

Rex

-   [cosmically mussing] Ah yes astronomy, init marvellous all those planets an nebulas an that floating about?

…….I wonder what’s on the darkside of the moon?

Wendy

- boring 70’s prog rock I expect…..I  wonder what’s on the dark side of Bob?

Meanwhile Vince has been making a rocket out of a fairy liquid bottle

Vince

- Rocket!

Bob

- [reading a horoscope] I haven’t got a darkside, I have a sunny and cheerful disposition !

Rex

- Hey look vince has made a rocket !

Wendy

sarcastically - Oh how clever !

Rex

 -Hey lets launch Vince to the dark side of Bob!
It would be one small step for a dog but one giant leap for dogkind.

They stuff Vince into the toy rocket and catapult him at bob, he lands on the dark side of Bob ...a strange and forbidding place completely devoid of life…..

  Vince cautiously steps out of the loony landing vehicle and peruses the strange inhospitable landscape before him, without a care for his own safety, thinking only of the advancement of dogkind he steps forth…

Sandwich

- Oy! Watch were your going !

Half eaten pork pie

- Yeah! Who do you think your steeping on?

Zoom out Vince is surrounded by the leftovers of thousands of Bobs dinners -

bits of pizza, curry, tins of half eaten doggie Chunks etc.

Vince

- Leftovers!

Pie

- Oh yes? - its like that is it ? he comes here without an invite, without so much as a by your leave and lets of with insults !

Mouldy Scone

- Yes! Come on chaps lets give the cad a jolly good drubbing.

Leftover dinners

( In unison ) - What?

Mouldy Scone

- Er, kick the crap out of him !

Leftover dinners

- Oh! good idea.                                                      

cut to Rex’s house

Wendy is measuring Rex and printing out knitting patterns.

Bob is exercising in the corner

Vince crash lands in the kitchen and runs fom the wreckage of the rocket pursued by the leftover dinners.

Vince
Cobblers !

Rex

- aaargh! Half eaten snacks are taking over the house.

Wendy

- that’s typical! I have to clean up while you just lie around under ¾ of a tonne of old food, I only hoovered that carpet last month.

the room starts to fill up with old food

Rex

- [from under a pile of crisps]  I’ll never be cruel to a Hula Hoop again,

…Help! stop the snacks!

Wendy

-  Its all your fault if we were meant to go fiddling around with astrominy

all the planets would have been put a lot nearer , just down the road…by the library… or the other side of the park or…

Rex

- Stop talking and start eating, …its the only way!

They try to eat the leftovers before the house fills up but more and more dinners are poring into the room, Rex and Wendy start to drown in leftovers.

Rex/Wendy

- Help! Bob!

Bob

- Yes? Did some one call?

Rex

 - Help mmmmhhff

Bob

- Oh yes! that’s right!… don’t block out the light Bob, they say,…

go and stand in the corner Bob, they say…

be a bit more sylph like Bob, they say…

but as soon as they are over run by psychopathic scraps of food from a parallel dimension , they sing a different tune!

 Wendy

- Gggllrgh!

Bob

- Oh! …that  looks like a bit of pizza, mmm!

…mmm dogy chunks…mmm marmalade, I like marmalade!

Bob soon polishes of all the leftovers and everything is back to normal

except that Bob is now 3 times the size he was before.

…Rex Wendy and Vince are having a surf,

Bob

- leaning over to see what their looking at

What you looking at?

Bob casts an enormous shadow, everything goes black except for Wendy’s Rex’s Bob’s eyes.

Rex

- Its all gone dark!

Vince eyes appear out of the gloom

Vince

- Eclipse!

The end

                                                                           By Grant white © Richard Starzak

 A jar of Gherkins slipped out of her hands while she was filling it & smashed, almost cutting of the little finger of her left hand.

The accident left a scar from the wrist up her palm, between the third & little finger & down the back of her hand to her wrist.

There was no sign of any stitching & afterwards her pinkie hung away from its neighbour at a sharp angle.

They poured iodine on it, bandaged it & she had the rest of the day off.

“The vinegar did sting, sumat wicked “.

The next day she was back at work in the Bristol Pickle factory, standing on an old beer crate so she could reach the conveyor belt.

She was small even for a seven year old girl.

It was a dark and stormy night, when George Ernest King and Margaret Townsend, their meagre bundles slung over their shoulders & the rain lashing their faces, set out to make a new life following Margaret’s disinheritance, after falling for, & refusing to give up, George King, the son of the ploughman on her family’s farm.

...It was a truth universally acknowledged that, a family in possession of a prosperous farm and a beautiful daughter, must be in need of ‘Marrying Up’ into the Gentry class. 

With this in mind the Townsends’  educated Margaret in all the qualities required of a Victorian lady: Singing, dancing, piano playing, water colour painting, conversational French, embroidery & conversing on important topics of the day etc.

So when all the money and time they spent was thrown away on a yokel - and  a yokel who was one of their employees, they were furious & humiliated and they disowned her.

After a few years scrapping a living from farms that ignored their blacklisting,  ( so  payed lower wages ), and after their third child Earnest George was born, they moved to South Wales where mining was booming & work was plentiful.

…………………

Its difficult to know all the facts, the genealogy is a bit hazy but It was a frequently told family story.

It was certainly true that being educated by his mother Earnest had an air of, quality & refinement ( in a non stuck up way ) that made him stand out as ‘posher’ than his working class contemporaries. and his sister Dora was a real Victorian battle axe, a proper ‘Lady Bracknell’ so, it is probably true and as they as they say – ‘Never let the truth get in the way of a good story’…

Earnest George King 1864 - 19 ?

In those days if you were bankrupt all you could keep were the clothes you stood up in, a change of underwear, a mac, an overcoat & the tools of your trade, which in Ernest Kings case as a former miner were a shovel & a pickaxe. He even had to buy his cat for one shilling, from their administrator, about £20 pounds today,. A cat then could be got for nothing.

His wife had got him out of the coal mine several years before & into her grocery business witch she started by selling vegetables from a horse & cart.

By the time of the depression They had three shops.

They gave food on tick to his former work mates & who couldn’t or wouldn’t pay them back.

One shop burnt down & wasn’t insured. The other two couldn’t survive.

The family of six moved.

When they arrived at the seaside there was no work the only option was beachcombing, collecting coal from the beach & bagging it up to sell & make not quite enough to live on.

It was a booming holiday town though & it needed tunnels for drains & cellars & government bunkers.
So eventually Earnest became a council foreman with a team of diggers.

When War was declared nothing happened – the phony war.

The coast was a prime target for shelling across the channel.

Earnest King his sons & son in law decided that if the council weren’t going to build air raid shelters they would build one themselves.

So they dug a tunnel & excavated a communal shelter on a spare plot of land at the end of the street. 

The council were humiliated & furious & tryed to stop the work but were frightened of by the streets residents. 

A man from the council & a photographer appeared while digging was going on.

The man posed in shirt sleeves all smiles in front of the excavation holding a jackhammer .& took all the credit for the public spirited initiative.

Behind the council official in the back of the tunnel shrouded in darkness avoiding publicity is Ernest King.

…The photo still exists as does his shovel & pickaxe.

Thrilling apocalyptic graphic novella - cult classic !

PULP! Magazine

Seminal Art magazine founded & edited  by animator/cartoonist/writer Grant White.

Most of the contributors went on to great things in animation /Illustration etc.

Featuring the work of such luminaries as

Agnes Hay

Steven Appleby / George Mole

Alan Alder

Simon Cooper

Martin Chatterton

Mark Rowney
Frank Opera

Nick Sharrat

Ged Haney

Ed Bryant

Hanny Tamba

Martin Cheek

Mark Kitchen-Smith

Grant White