Thursday, October 16, 2008
When I'm Not On The Run, I'm Walking.
So i had commited a crime i couldnt remember doing. Thats not to say i didnt commit one, i just couldnt remember. I shared a cell with a man named shakey. He were called shakey cos when he wanted badly to make murder, he would get the shakes. That dude was always shakin round me.
Me and him decided to make a run for it, so when the time was right we jumped the fence and ran.
The first place we ran was a Chinese restaurant. He were hungry and i wanted Lemon Chicken. After a little while he got the killing shakes and left the table to find a victim. At this point I figured it were a good time to leave so i got on my bike and rode.
I must of been riding for about forever when i came across a house with a room for rent. The people seemed nice, hippy types, they was activists, im not sure what they activised but they seemed commited. They had a photocopier which they seemed to place a lot of value in. they loved that thing, they would print up all manner of flyer and brochure about all kind of thing, it was sacred to them, like a beige monolith.
All good things come to an end, which is exactly waht happened when late in the evening the police arrived. i figured it best not find out why they was here so i quickly packed up my things and headed for the back door, as i was about to make my careful exit a hippy stopped me and asked if i could take the copier, keep it safe from harm, safe from the brutish arms of the law. I accepted and ran.
The Police caught up with me eventually, on a staircase at a French airport, Shakey was with them, he was a detective now.