I’ve just had the most extraordinary phone call from Wilson, asking whether I could lend him ‘a few thousand pounds’ as he’s come across a ‘unique business opportunity’.
He explained that he’d found a derelict Amusement Arcade – it wasn’t what he’d been looking for, but he says it’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance which is too good to pass up. Apparently it’s even got a few amusement machines left inside.
His plan is to buy the arcade, paint it up a bit then re-open it as a Family Business ‘for all of us’.
I can see only too clearly how this would pan out: I’d spend my entire life confined in the Change Kiosk while Wilson, Byron and all their friends played on the slots. For free.
Judging by the exterior, the most modern machine in there is probably Pac-Man… or possibly even Pong.
I’m afraid he’s going to have to miss this ‘unmissable’ opportunity after all…
Once Wilson’s ‘G-Team’ had completed their Graffiti Masterpiece (actually, I did think it was pretty cool) they wandered off to take a look around what I think of as Uckfield’s ‘Badlands’.
The first thing they noticed was that there were a lot of commercial premises lying vacant, which for some reason caused them some excitement.
Every town or village has an area where shoppers don’t visit and businesses don’t prosper, and Uckfield is no different.
It’s a shame, but once a couple of concerns fail, the rest soon follow suit and before long there’s a Ghost Town of deserted shops. I hope Wilson isn’t considering renting one of these abandoned and desolate properties!
While I have no idea what they might be planning, I DO know I probably won’t like it…
Wilson has headed off with what he has started calling his G-Team to what I can only describe as one of the less salubrious areas of the village, where he plans to immortalise two of his greatest musical heroes in spray paint – Peter Dawson and Bob Dylan.
I never thought I’d say this, but I’m relying on Nërp to keep the boys safe and out of trouble in Uckfield’s ‘Badlands’ – he can seem quite intimidating if you're unused to humanoid robots…
Wilson had just asked Byron to investigate the possibility of opening a “WILSON & BIRO” ice cream stand at the zoo when he noticed Uncle Zoltan on the bird table acting suspiciously.
W asked him what he was up to, and Uncle Z replied that he is now in what he calls ‘The Real Estate Game.’
‘You’ll never make a Million selling ice-cream!’ he mocked, ‘Property is the way forward! Ice cream? Pah – don’t make me laugh!’
In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Uncle Z laugh*. Or even smile, come to that.
Wilson is furious, but I think what outrages him the most is that he didn’t think of it first…
__________
* Oh, I tell a lie – there was the time Wilson got his head stuck in a megaphone and had to be driven to the hospital to have it removed. THAT made Uncle Z laugh…
Wilson and Byron spent most of the morning counting the profits from their Ice Cream Enterprise.
Total income amounts to £66.50 and Wilson has calculated that at this rate it will take him only 41 years to earn his first £Million.
That’s if he doesn’t split it with Byron (who did at least half the work) and runs his stall every day of the year, rather than lounging around daydreaming about his future…
I didn’t like to point out to him that he’d overlooked the initial cost of the ice-cream machine, ingredients, running costs etc – he doubtless thinks such expenses don’t count because he put them all (like everything else) on my VISA card.
Anyway, once the numbers were crunched W went out to relax in the garden and dream about his future as the head of a vast ice cream empire, while Byron poked around in search of any chocolate eggs which might have been overlooked in the Easter Egg Hunt a couple of weeks ago.
Today dawned sunny and warm – the ideal day to start an ice cream marketing business!
Wilson and Byron were up and about early, and before long their first customers – our neighbours Derek and Linda – arrived and began reading the menu. Derek ordered a Rum & Raisin, while his wife opted for a Chocolate Sundae.
‘Excellent choices!’ Wilson assured them as he rang-up their £20 note in his Fisher-Price Junior Cash Register, before announcing cheerfully, ‘Oh! I don’t appear to have any change – never mind, I’ll give you a Credit Note!’
He went into the house for a moment, then emerged empty-pawed and chatted with Byron for a while.
After ten minutes or so, Derek asked whether his ice-cream would be much longer.
‘About 20 minutes,’ Wilson replied, ‘it’s not quite frozen yet.’
Pointing to the sign above the counter he read aloud, ‘“FRESHLY-MADE-WHILE-YOU-WAIT” you see – it’s our Unique Selling Point. As soon as your Rum & Raisin’s done I’ll start work on Linda’s Sundae!’
Although the weather today is cool and cloudy, the forecast for the weekend is apparently ‘brilliant – sunny and hot’ and final preparations are in full swing for tomorrow’s GRAND LAUNCH of what Wilson is still calling his Secret Project… in spite of it becoming increasingly clear that it is in fact an Ice Cream Stand.
The Bees are in the kitchen (from which I have once again been banished) preparing vast quantities of ‘ice cream mixture’, while Nërp is outside helping with the heavy lifting.
Both the boys seem to be taking this very seriously – I hope they’re not disappointed by poor sales.
I’ll probably buy a couple of ices myself, just to keep their spirits up.
Honestly, I never cease to be amazed by the unlikely stuff you can pick up on Amazon and eBay!
Following my feedback on Wilson’s ice-cream flavours, one of his friends, Sheila, suggested that ants should be available as an OPTION.
Wilson has sourced an Ant Shaker, reasoning that ants can be not only optional but charged extra!
He confided to me that he didn’t know whether he could trust strangers with a whole shaker full of ants, as they might unscrew the lid and just eat them all – I told him I was pretty sure he’d be okay…
Both Wilson and Byron were very keen to hear what I thought about the ice cream dishes they prepared for last night’s dinner, and I gave them my frank opinion: all the flavours were very tasty, but would have been improved by the removal of the ants.
They took this quite well, considering.
Anyway, they’ve gone out to play in the street together – I’m sure they’re both sensible enough not to get up to any mischief or annoy the neighbours…
The meal Wilson and Byron prepared for me last night was, as promised, ‘unusual and exciting’ consisting as it did of three dessert courses.
For Starters we had Strawberry Ice Cream with Croutons and Deep-Fried Crunchy Ants, our Main Course was Peanut Butter Ice Cream with Peanut Sauce and Dessert was Chocolate Ice Cream Sundae with Marshmallows and Chocolate-dipped Ants – my Blood-Sugar Meter had quite a surprise!
I’m pretty certain now that I know what ‘The Apparatus’ is – it’s an ice-cream machine – but I still don’t understand the need for such secrecy.
Unless it cost a LOT more than I expect an ice-cream machine to cost – I’m almost scared to check my VISA bill…
I have been (temporarily) re-admitted to the kitchen, although what the boys refer to in lowered voices as ‘The Apparatus’ remains concealed under a layer of tea-towels.
Wilson and Byron are busy preparing what they assure me will be ‘an unusual and exciting meal’ for dinner tonight.
I’m not sure how keen I am on ‘unusual’ – I’m guessing, from observing the ingredients surrounding the Food Mixer, that Honey, Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Honey Liqueur and Ants will be the principal ingredients.
In Wilson’s opinion, those (together with Gin, of course, which will probably be served with dessert) constitute the perfect healthy diet.
I’m also a little concerned by Uncle Zoltan’s presence, no doubt acting in an Advisory Capacity. Uncle Z says he once stung Celebrity Chef Gordon Ramsay, which obviously now qualifies him as a Culinary Maven…
Wilson and Byron have nipped round to Tesco for ‘secret ingredients,’ leaving Nërp in charge of the newly-installed ‘secret equipment’ – which is making a noise not unlike a cement mixer.
While they were safely out of the way, I tapped on the kitchen door. Nërp replied: ‘It is forbidden to enter, Wilson’s New Dad – please leave the area!’
Persisting, I asked if I could just have a quick word with him. After a few moments the door opened a crack, his body blocking my view of whatever might be going on within.
I asked Nërp if he had any idea what was going on.
He replied that the Laws of Robotics forbade him from divulging to me anything that had been flagged with the property ‘Secret’ and the contents of the Amazon box, together with its ultimate purpose, had been so flagged.
‘Forgive me for not being Bender from Futurama,’ he continued. ‘If I were, I would doubtless have “spilled the beans” in return for a bottle of beer and a cigar. But I am not. I think Wilson is disappointed that I am not – I suspect he would find Bender more… simpatico. More… amusant.’ He chuckled to himself – an unnerving, mechanical noise. ‘Amusant. AmusANT – did you see what I did there? Oh, never mind.’
So, I guess I’ll have to wait and see. I don’t much like waiting and seeing – it makes me nervous.
My own experience of parcels from Amazon is that they’re usually composed of 95% Air and Bubble Wrap.
A box the size of a suitcase arrives, you open it, remove 500m of grey packing paper and eventually find your actual purchase – a nail file, perhaps, or a pencil – hiding at the bottom.
Wilson’s delivery, however, seems to be in another league entirely, so heavy that even Nërp had difficulty carrying it into the kitchen.
Before the outer box had been opened, I was hustled out of the room and instructed not to return for the time being, while the ‘equipment’ was being ‘installed’ and ‘tested’…
There was much celebration (and overeating) when the Easter Eggs were distributed yesterday.
The sTone Brothers, Neil, Dave and Mole have all taken their eggs into the dining room, where it’s a lot quieter, and Uncle Zoltan has scuttled back to his hive with his.
Nërp is still confused about the association between Jesus dying, Rabbits and Chocolate Eggs. At first his Display Screen bore a flashing message, “Totes Sorry For Your Loss” but Wilson convinced him that it was a bit inappropriate – although he couldn’t explain why to Nërp's satisfaction.
In other news, Wilson was very relieved to wake this morning to the news that the Chinese Space Station Tiangong-1 has crashed to Earth somewhere that isn’t Uckfield…
Hello! Welcome to April, and a very happy Good Sunday!
I am Polly the Bee, and this is our… well, MY Guest Blog.
As you know, I would normally be addressing you with my Significant Other – Billi – but she is busy negotiating a Top Secret Deal with Wilson, so today I am Flying Solo!
Billi is a much better negotiator than me, so I leave her to do what she’s best at: playing hard-ball!
I would love tell you all about this contract, but if i TOLD you, I’d have to STING you! Haha! So I won’t. Just kidding.
Anyway, I’ve been Polly the Bee, and Billi the Bee sends her love. We’ll see you again next month – until then, BEEEEEEEEE GOOD!
As arranged, I met young Byron at the Bus Station, drove him home and escorted him through the garden to Wilson’s 'Asteroid Shelter.'
After a few minutes of shouting and stamping on the ground, Wilson’s head emerged, blinking in the daylight.
‘Has it crashed yet?’ he asked, ‘Did it miss us? The Wi-Fi signal isn’t very good down here…’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Byron replied. ‘I didn’t come all this way to sit in a wet hole in the ground – I came to help you develop… well…’ he touched one claw to the side of his nose, ‘You-Know-What! The Secret Project!’
‘But what about Tiangong-1 crashing on Uckfield and killing everyone?’ W protested.
Nërp interrupted, saying, ’The Tiangong-1 Space Station’s orbit does not even pass over Uckfield. It does not even pass over most of Europe. I have calculated the chances of it landing anywhere in Sussex as…’ – he made a brief whirring sound, not unlike wheels spinning – ‘Zero. The Space Station will NOT kill you here. Probabilities for other locations may vary.’
Reluctantly, Wilson climbed out of his Shelter, dusted the soil, mud and a few surprised worms from his fur and followed Byron and Nërp into the house.
Somehow, despite my best efforts, Wilson has learned that Tiangong-1 – the 8½ tonne Chinese Space Station – is due to crash into the Earth at 17,000 mph this weekend.
Consequently he has grabbed Antony and Tiny Toy and retired to his Asteroid Shelter for Easter.
He asked whether he could have his Easter Eggs early, since I would ‘probably’ be dead by Sunday, and so unable to give them to him.
I promised him that I WOULD still be alive and well on Sunday, and would give him his eggs then.
He countered my assurance by telling me that, as a practicing Pastafarian, he was entitled to his Easter Eggs early, due to some unlikely edict by the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
Not wishing to be accused of Religious Discrimination, I allowed him one Cadbury’s Creme Egg.
His final message to me was to ask me to meet Byron at the Bus Station, bring him home and escort him to the Asteroid Shelter where they would ride out the End Of The World together, while sharing a Creme Egg.
I promised I would carry out his wishes… and passed him another Creme Egg – for Byron.
I’d hoped to go out today, but Wilson said ‘someone’ (he stared pointedly at me as he said this) would have to stay at home to sign for a delivery he’s expecting from Amazon, while he goes out to finish some graffiti project he’s in the middle of.
Before he left he asked whether his half-brother Byron could come to stay over Easter.
Byron, or ‘Biro’ as W calls him, is no trouble at all, and I hope having him here will distract Wilson from his graffiti obsession – he’ll run out of walls soon.
Anyway, I’ve agreed that little Byron is welcome to stay as long as his mother, Mrs Vermilingua, agrees.
Here, at last, is the piece of work that Wilson has been talking about for so long: a tribute to his musical hero, Mr Leonard Cohen!
(Please don’t touch it – he only finished it last night, and some of the paint is still a little bit wet.)
He says that if anyone would like to buy a print of this piece – or even own the original by buying the actual wall* – they are welcome to make him an offer at the usual address.
__________________
* Dismantling and delivery not included
This is the first day of British Summer Time [Daylight Saving] and I had expected Wilson to spend most of the day changing the clocks – putting some of them forward an hour, some back an hour, forgetting which ones he’d already done etc and generally wreaking levels Temporal Chaos normally only experienced in the TARDIS during a re-boot.
Some of you, however, will remember his invention of a clock that doesn’t need adjusting: The Mk2 Winter And Summer Timekeeping Equipment or ‘WASTE’ clock.
Today he showed me something he’s been working on in secret – the Mk2 WASTE Clock ‘Mister Juicy Special Edition,’ in memory of his late friend and collaborator, Mr Juicy The Talking Orange, and proceeded to mount it on the wall…
___
Oh, W has just reminded me to mention the Leonard Cohen Wall which he hopes to unveil tomorrow – he says he’s expecting it to cause ‘a bit of a stir’ in both street art and musical circles.
I hope that’s in a good way…
