Greg sat slumped in the passenger seat of Cheryl "the Nazi's" car. She'd been lecturing him for the last ten minutes like a teenager.
          "What were you thinking? You could have been attacked or lost your pills or anything," Cheryl scolded.
          "Hey, either way I would have been dead. Which is a million times more tempting than being stuck here with you," Greg spat.
          "You can insult me as much as you like Mr Proops, but you will be sedated once I get you back to the home," Cheryl warned.
          "You ain't sticking a needle anywhere near me woman," Greg huffed.
          "You plan to stop me?" Cheryl snide, giving Greg a quick nasty glance.
          Greg fell silent; trying to wrap his slightly fragmented brain around a plan. Like the latest flu bug it came to him. He took hold of his walking stick and began to prod Cheryl.
          "Stop that you stupid old fool," Cheryl hissed.
          "I need to piss," Greg demanded.
          "Can't you hold it?" Cheryl sighed.
          "God dammit woman, I'm 80, something years old. My prostate doesn't work and I only have half a bladder," Greg declared. "You don't take me to a bathroom soon, your seat is going to be dripping."
          Cheryl looked slightly repulsed as she pulled into the nearest gas station. Greg groaned as he pulled himself out of the car.
          "Be quick," Cheryl breathed as she attempted to tune in the radio.
          "Yes ma'am," Greg grunted as he shuffled off around the side of the gas station. He reached the back of the building and shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out Jeff's cell phone that, thanks to the mild dementia, he'd forgotten about returning. All he had to do now was call a taxi and leave Cheryl "the Nazi" in a cloud of dust.

          "You don't really have explosives do you?" Wayne gasped as the "Welcome to Ventura" sign swam into his blurred view.
          "Of course I don't, wish I did though," Brad perked.
          Wayne looked at his friend with mild concern, he had a feeling Brad hadn't taken the "little green pills" that morning.
          "So, how do you plan to break the guys out?" he asked.
          "I'm not entirely sure, but when I think of it, it'll be great. Really spectacular and may involve dancing girls," Brad chirped as he looked around for the police station.
          "How about we, I don't know, go and talk to the sergeant over a nice cup of tea?" Wayne babbled.
          "What? Where's the fun in that?" Brad huffed. "I might be dead tomorrow, I'd like to do something suitably criminal before then."
          "You walk around in your underwear all day man, that's criminal," Wayne scorned.
          Brad glared at Wayne briefly then looked back at the surroundings. "Well there's no need to be a bastard…IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" he snapped.
          "Actually its 1am, it’s not your birthday," Wayne smirked.
          Brad pouted and then broke into a smile. "Look it’s the station."
          "Oh god, strike me down now," Wayne groaned.

          "Now, we've organised transport to get you back to LA," a police officer declared as the five men were rounded up in the foyer.
          "It's not a hovercraft is it? I'm not allowed on hovercrafts," Ryan asked.
          "No, it’s not a hovercraft," sighed the officer.
          "Or a boat, I get a bit queasy on boats," Jeff added.
          "No, no boats," the officer breathed.
          "What's with the goats?" Chip asked, looking nothing less than confused.
          "BOATS, B-OATS," the officer yelled.
          "Oh, boats…No need to yell, you rude young man," Chip huffed.
          "But you're, you can't…" The officer stopped and let out a long sigh.
          "My mer-wife is going to be pissed," Ryan scorned.
          "I feel sleepy," Colin yawned, leaning heavily against his walking stick.
          "Well we'll get you in the minibus and we can get you home," the officer perked and motioned to the door.
          Before anyone could move the door flew open and Brad hurried as fast as he could into the foyer. He was still in only his undies and shoes. With the car stereo, a couple of AA batteries and a torched gaffer taped to his abdomen.
          "Let the prisoners go and no one gets hurt," he announced.
          "Listen old man, we don't have time for this," the officer sighed.
          "I'm serious," Brad said narrowing his eyes.
          "Yeah, that bomb looks deadly," Ryan sarced.
          They paused to look at the door, as Wayne shuffled inside, various wires hanging from his walking frame and a sun shade gaffer taped to his chest like armour.
          "Oh look, it’s Brad's secret weapon, The Shade," Jeff mused.
          "What's happening?" Drew whined.
          "I don't like camping," Chip huffed.
          "I SAID WHAT'S…" Drew was cut off by Brad announcing, "YOU ASKED FOR IT." He pulled a wire near the torch, the gaffer tape snapped and the torch, stereo and batteries fell to the floor.
          "Well my poop pants need changed," Jeff sarced.
          "That was hardly terrifying," Colin sighed.
          Brad looked defeated. "I just wanted to make things exciting, come and bust you out," he wined.
          "We're already free," Drew remarked.
          "Idiot," Wayne grumbled as he turned and headed back out of the station.
          "Ah well, you tired," Colin soothed.
          Brad shrugged. "I can drive you all back."
          "Yes, no hovercraft," Ryan cheered.
          They all were forced into silence again as the door opened and a hacking, wheezing Greg appeared.
          "Greg," Colin gasped.
          "Quick, we have to leave, Cheryl the Nazi is on her way," he announced.
          "SHIT," went the unanimous reply.
          "That bitch ain't getting a needle in my ass again," Ryan spat as he led the way out of the police station.
          Jeff stopped Colin as they approached the door. "But we only get needles in our arms?"
          "That's because they can find veins in our arms," Colin replied.
          Jeff's eyes went wide and then a look of disgust appeared on his face.
          "Don’t think about it man, it'll fuck you up," Greg coughed as they all headed out to Brad's stolen car and Greg's waiting taxi.