BACKWARDS7: “That sucks.”
WOKRER BEE c9826a: “Ghlamayce, the dragon, has awakened in the master bedroom of his assisted-living bungalow lair on Tyrone Road. When the worm-eaten Autumn windfalls spoil and ferment in the long grass, he will take to the skies of Thorpe Bay despoiling your farms and seizing virgins.”
BACKWARDS7: “Good luck with finding either in Southend. All other considerations aside, Ghlamayce is a douche. One of his tattoos is supposed to say: 'Unashamed to be English' in Mandarin. What it actually says is: 'Reeboks 180 RMB.' They caught him shoplifting frozen lasagne from the Tesco Metro on Thorpe Bay Broadway. I believe he's still on the sex offenders register for the virgin-snatching thing.”
WOKRER BEE c9826a: “The sun is a sleeping red giant; the devourer of planets; the parched drinker of tepid oceans.”
BACKWARDS7: “Yeah, listen can I run something past you:
“The witch who does the weather forecasts on Thorpe Bay beach told me that I would soon be Thane of Cawdor. The thing is I don't want to accept this title as it will entail me moving to Scotland. I understand that the duties of the Thane are rather heavy on paperwork and administration which isn't something I want to get into again after my last job. The trouble is, if I don't accept the position the Job Centre will sanction me. If that happens then I'll have no choice other than to round-up the old crew and go back to robbing food banks at gun point.
“The witch told me that, when I signed-up to her service, I should have unchecked the box that opts-in to all prophecies. The thing is I don't even remember seeing this box; to be honest I just scrolled through the terms and conditions.
What legal recourse do I have, if any?”
WOKRER BEE c9826a: “This isn't really my area of expertise. I could pass it on to our legal team if you want.”
BACKWARDS7: “That would be great, Thanks.”
WOKRER BEE c9826a: “Okay, will do. Look, I've gotta go. Remember me to your parents.”
BACKWARDS7: “Yeah, laterz.”
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