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It was a strange day. The sky was dark, yet it was morning. The air was warm, but the feeling was cold. Rostin noticed this, as he sat in the Beer Garden, pondering life as he knew it. Rostin, who had recently purchased a flower to put in his flat cap, felt disheartened. The night before a Eagle owl had flown through his window and landed on his chest. The bird told him that he must win an upcoming pool competition, no matter what the cost.

Carl sat the bar, content with the knowledge that Rostin had been sufficiently drugged up the night before to believe he had been contacted by the 'Feathered Beast' that was believed to haunt Stockbridge village. He looked at Bobby, as he sat shinning his shoes for a meer sixpence.
"Hows it going down there"

Bobby hated his job. He one day hoped to escape the F & F, but for now he was a shoe shinner, and a pretty good one.

Rostin looked into the pub. I young man had walked in. His walk resembled a Irish Jig, something which had been made illegal several years ago, after a young man by the name of Abraham Jolenski lost his eye in a Jigging contest. Rostin give him a stern look, but the man paid no attention, as Rostins lazy eye meant that he always looked like he was searching for a sea lion, or a girrafe. Mr Lazy sat next to Rostin. Mr Lazy was an ex-Mr Man, who lived underneath the betting shop. He had a special package, neigh, a VERY special package. Rostins Lazy eyes gazed in fear.