"Grass, grass, grass, grass, grass, grass, grass. Grass grassed grass grasses grassing grassed grass. Grass! Grass! Grass!"

"Well that’s all fine and dandy," Percy said to the appallingly small man who was chanting this mantra. "But how is grass going to get me out of this pickle?"

"My poem appeals to the child inside you, little child," the man said. He let go of the giraffe’s leg. "And to you, that can only be a good thing."

"Understood," Percy retorted. "Understood."

"Wait a minute!" the man paused. "Why…you’re Bluegum Murphy!"

"No, I’m afraid I am little Percy," Percy replied.

"It is you! It’s really you!"

Suddenly Percy’s usually firm earlobes started flapping. They both looked extremely worried, as the velocity of Percy’s earlobes grew larger.

"Oh, no! Oh, no!" the man said, letting go of the giraffe’s hoof that he was licking. "It begins!"

"What begins?" Percy wanted to know. An extremely high pitched sound could be heard. The thunder grew louder than usual. The man was heard no more.

"There he is!" a thirteen year old girl screamed. That’s right. A pack of thirteen-year-old girls had tracked down Percy and there was no knowing what would happen now.

Before too long, Percy had been kidnapped and dragged to the airport. There, he was put on the phone by a thirteen-year-old girl named Clarence.

"Bluegum, the rules are plain and simple," said a voice at the other side of the phone line. "This is a radio competition where you and a loved one have to say how much you hate each other. And you have to lie."

"What on earth is going on?" Percy asked Clarence.

"There’s some woman on the other end of the line. If you win the competition, you win everything!"

"Oh," Percy said. "Cool!"

"Okay, Bluegum. You start. What do you hate most about Amanda?"

"Uh…okay, I can do this. Um, let’s see. This is actually…I don’t know her."

"Buzz! Wrong, loser! Now, Amanda, what do you hate about Percy?"

"Well," she said. "I actually like him. I like him because he is a stupid little deluded freak who is self-centred, egotistical and infantile!"

"Sorry, Amanda, the correct answer was: wanker. Percy, if you get this question wrong you win! What is President George W Bush’s real name?"

"Uh, Frank?" Percy spluttered (he had a little bit of a cold.)

"No, I’m sorry, Bluegum. That answer is wrong. His real name is George. Or is it? Bluegum, you win!"

"Hip, hip, hooray!"

"You are totally hip and happening, Percy!" Clarence cried in joy and hugged him. "I’d sure like to buy you a drink!"

"Percy, you have won the grand prize! A week long religious adventure!"

"Did you win everything?" Clarence asked Percy.

Percy shook his head. "No, I’ve won a religious adventure."

Clarence took off her shoes and threw them at a coke machine. Then she put her shoes back on her feet, took of her left earring, and poked Percy in the cheek with it. "Liar!" she screamed and ran off.

"What?" Percy asked.

PERCY’S RAD RELIGIOUS ADVENTURES

Well, time for Percy’s religious adventures. Percy was escorted the next day to his first religious adventure: Cakism. His escort? Rampart Von Plenty. A man who enjoyed apple juice.

"Apple juice, hoorah! Apple juice, hoorah!" he told Percy calmly and reassuringly.

"So, let me get this straight. My first religious adventure is Cakism, is that correct?" Percy asked.

"You bet it is!" Rampart Von Plenty told him. "And how!"

They skipped to the Cakist temple, and Percy was to get his first taste of the world of Cakism, that day. The temple was a small cottage full of middle-aged women and dwarfs baking cakes.

"Welcome to our glorious religion," said Mrs Roune as she handed Percy an eggbeater and some cake mix. "Your cake will show the light."

"Well, this ought to be jolly good fun," Percy grinned, rubbing his hands together before whistling the tune to ‘Ebony and Ivory’ by Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney. During which, Rampart Von Plenty left Percy’s side and returned to his top-rating radio program.

Before long, Percy had made his first cake. This is marvellous, Percy thought to himself. Cakism was one religion that couldn’t go wrong. Or…could it?

Before long, Percy’s cake began moving from the inside. Suddenly out poked the head of a meower. A pussy cat.

"What on Earth?" Percy screamed. "Why is there a cat inside my cake? I don’t like cats! I don’t like cats at all!"

Mrs Roune turned to Percy from the other side of the temple and sighed. "Well I like cats, Percy. I like cats."

A dwarf looked at the two of them as if he was a nineteenth century composer and coughed. "Are you going to tell him why?"

"Yes, I will, little man,", she said. "I will. Percy, this is why I like cats.

Casserole jelly,

"While that was a wonderful poem and all, I just can’t stand seeing cats in my cake," Percy complained. Mrs Roune was extremely hurt by this criticism and for another couple of years she found it extremely hard to communicate to anyone.

"You just don’t stop whingeing, do you?" asked the extremely tall dwarf, Rodger. "Sometimes I just think, why do we bother?" It wasn’t long before Percy had irritated this tall dwarf that bit too much. "That’s it, young one! Get out of this temple, go to the local chemist, and get me a rectangular can of acorn mix! Then, you may return."

"Okay, then," Percy said. "But I tell ya’, this religion ain’t for me."

"Acorn mix!" Rodger the tall dwarf commanded. Percy didn’t need to be told twice. Off he went, out of the temple, and to the local chemist.

It went without saying that Percy was always on the lookout for big bad wolves, and this was no exception. However no wolves, not even big bad ones, could be seen.

When Percy walked into the chemist however, the big bad wolf was being held hostage by a lumberjack!

"Don’t move!" the lumberjack told Percy. However, Percy’s nose had been vibrating slightly all day, as a result the lumberjack fed the wolf a large amount of throat lozenges. Which we all know is deadly.

"You...killed him!" Percy shuddered.

"And you saw it! Now you will pay!" the lumberjack snarled. Percy ran off. He had become a witness! Now he was in big trouble.

Before long, Percy was standing inside a Jewish temple, shivering. Rabbi Donut approached Percy and stuck one of his long fingers up his nose. It was an unpleasant situation, all round.

"You must testify, Percy!" Rabbi Donut urged him.

"Are you crazy, Donut?" Percy asked him neurotically. "Don’t you know what will happen? That lumberjack will hunt me down and he’ll kill me."

"If you testify," Rabbi Donut smiled. "I’ll put you in the last place on Earth the lumberjack will ever find you."

Percy was ready to start his day at the post-office.

"Percy, we don’t want you here," Mrs Superior told him. "But, we’ve been given a large amount of money from that rabbi. You will stay here for the rest of your life, and will be known as Postman Platewood."

"Okay, but don’t hold me down, man!" Percy urged.

"Everyday you will post letters. That lumberjack will never find you!"

"Great stuff," Percy said. "Who knows, I may be able to join the post-office choir!"

"No," Mrs Superior told him sternly. "No. Now, post this letter! It’s addressed to a man named Jack Lumber. Hurry!"

"Hmm," Percy said to himself. "Mr Jack Lumber. I wonder who that is?"

To the address went the naive little boy, and as he walked through the door he found a lumberjack, the lumberjack, playing snooker.

"Oh no, it’s you!" Percy screamed.

"You!" the lumberjack roared, and hurled the pool-stick at Percy, coincidently hitting Percy in the eye.

"Nooo!" cried the radio presenter himself, Rampart Von Plenty. Majestically leaping through the window, he delivered a sharp blow to the lumberjack’s head with the help of a gravy packet. "Bluegum! Cakism is over! You’ve got another four religions to cover, yet!"

"Oh, yeah," Percy smiled as he held his damaged eye. "What religion is next? Rabbitism, right?"

"That’s right, Bluegum," he smiled. "That’s right."

Rabitism was certainly high up on the agenda, if you know what I mean.

"Bluegum, let’s walk to your religion, but on the way, and this is the tricky part, let’s talk about life in general."

"Fine by me," Percy replied to Rampart Von Plenty.

"I’ll begin by talking about cows."

"Ah, good," Percy responded. "My grandmother has cows on her farm."

"Who are you?" Rampart Von Plenty asked Percy ferociously. "I have no bloody idea who the hell you are!"

"I’m Percy," he told him.

"I thought you were Bluegum! You’re an imposter!" Rampart accused him. "And I miss my bald uncle!"

"Look, I have to stop you there," said Percy angrily, and through his jacket onto the floor. "Listen, Rampart. I’ve been listening to you for a few sentences, and you make absolutely no sense. Why? What on earth is wrong with you? Can’t you just talk about something better! Like the weather!"

Rampart Von Plenty got off the floor. "How dare you, Bluegum. How dare you! The weather was never, and never will be, and interesting topic. That’s it, I’m going to do something I should have done a long time ago!"

Percy looked at him fearfully. "What? What are you going to do, Rampart? What are you going to do?"

The session had been booked. Percy and Rampart sat inside the room, waiting for the arrival of their vocational guidance counsellor.

"I don’t understand why we have to do this," Percy complained. "I don’t have a problem."

"You do, Bluegum," Rampart sighed. "You and I both do. Only when we’re willing to admit that, will our relationship be on the mend."

"Hey guys!" smiled the vocational guidance counsellor, Nibbly Loo. "You two need to take a camp. I’m sending you off to camp, right now!"

Two days later, Percy and Rampart were coming back on the bus from their camp. They were now arguing more than ever.

"You never listen to anything I have to say. It’s always you, you, you. But what about me, Bluegum? What about me?"

"You’re cruel and barbaric," Percy huffed. "I’ve never seen such cruelty to a living animal before!"

"If god wanted dogs to walk, he wouldn’t have given them such big ears!" Rampart Von Plenty yelled, though secretly he respected Percy for what he had said. "Now, don’t you realise that because you made us go on that fecking camp, you have missed out on two religions! You’ve missed out on Rabbitism and Bearism. Now you’ve only got Disneysm to go! So come on! Follow me Bluegum!"

They both rode a tandem bike to the Disneyist Church, and Rampart Von Plenty shook Percy’s hand.

"I guess this is goodbye, then," Rampart Von Plenty cried.

"Yes, bye," Percy said, and ran into the church.

Rampart Von Plenty howled. "Bluegum, I tried to make it work. I really did!"

And that was the end of that radio presenter’s career, let me tell you!

Percy marched into the Disneyist society as if he owned the place. He thought he was so good, didn’t he!

"Greetings, fellow soldier of Disney!" came a quiet voice. "I am so glad that you are finally with us, Percy!"

"How did you know my name?" asked Percy is shock.

"Little one, Walt Disney knows your name. I just expressed it for you."

"Do you worship Walt Disney?" Percy asked.

"That’s partly right," the voice said. "Him and Abu from Aladdin, in Elephant form."

"I see," Percy declared. "I do."

Out of the shadows came a tall man who was obviously not a duck. "To prove yourself to Walt Disney, you must preach, Percy. Preach."

"Well, I don’t know," Percy said uncertainly. "Preaching isn’t the glamorous Disneyist lifestyle I pictured it to be."

While Percy was giving lame excuses so as not to preach, he heard a knock on a nearby window. The tall man opened it up, and there was a car there.

"Can I have a large fries, a coke, and three hamburgers please. And make it snappy!" said a driver.

"Would you like fries with that?" asked the tall man.

"No, thankyou," the driver replied. The tall man handed him the food and the hungry customer drove away.

Percy was in shock. "What on earth? Is this place a fast food restaurant? I thought it was a church!"

The tall man turned to Percy and chuckled. "Hakuna Matata, Percy. Hakuna Matata. Now get preaching!"

Percy was now preaching at the local library, wearing a hat and a funny coat, a la The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.

"If you wish upon a star, you will never smash a car," he chanted. No one found his rhyme amusing, not for a second. Except of course, for Rodger O’Callahan.

For those of you that don’t know, Rodger O‘Callahan is the producer of such hit musicals as South Pacific and the likes. And he thought that Percy’s Disney-esque performance was just what the doctor ordered, even better than a new designer bedroom.

"You, little boy!" shouted Rodger O’Callahan. "Come here, little boy, come here!"

Percy approached Rodger and shrugged. "Yeah?" he asked.

"You’re marvellous! You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen!"

"Really?" Percy asked. "Really? Am I?"

"Yes, you….yes, you….oh, bloody…" he struggled to say as he desperately flattened an apple with his shoe. "Roll-ups are supposed to be real fruit, flattened out! Well, I ask you, isn’t this the biggest load of snake droppings you’ve ever had the misfortune of marrying?"

Percy looked puzzled.

"I can not waste any more time, little one. If only I knew your name, you’d be able to be let you join my musical, South Pacific. But since I don’t know your name, I’m completely stuffed. It’s a shame, really. Oh well, I’ll just have to look for someone else. Someone whose name I actually know." Rodger gave a deep sigh and left for the library door.

"Wait!" Percy shouted. "My name is Percy! My name is Per-er-cy!"

The producer turned, ran to Percy and fell at his feet. "Percy! Oh, Percy! You will be the biggest star this planet has ever known! Together…we’re going to take on the world!"

"Sorry, I missed that," said Percy. "Can you repeat that?"

"No time! Hurry!" Rodger yelled, and took Percy by the hand. It was a matter of seconds before they were on an aeroplane, heading for Western Samoa to perform the musical.

"Blasted roll-up!" Rodger complained on the plane, with the rest of the cast of South Pacific. "How do they make these? How?"

Percy, being so admired by the producer, was sitting next to him.

"So, what part do I play?" asked Percy.

"No time, Percy," Rodger told him as he tried to pluck pieces of the roll-up from out of his gum. "I’ll tell you when we get to Western Samoa."

They stopped over in Wellington, New Zealand for a matter of minutes, to change aeroplanes. Rodger O’Callahan approached Percy with a grave expression.

"Percy, I need to talk to you," he said. "I’m afraid that you can’t come to Western Samoa with us."

"But I’m starring in South Pacific aren’t I?" Percy asked him anxiously.

"Lord, no," Rodger slobbered (it’s hard to drink New Zealand soup without slobbering). "You see, Percy, we’ve found a replacement who is superior to you in almost every way."

"Who?" Percy asked. A man fell through the plaster of the roof.

"Bluegum Murphy!" Rodger applauded. "The greatest. It’s that simple."

The man, Bluegum Murphy, had a moustache, was wearing clogs and had a badge on that said "Up with Eggplant!"

Percy was shocked. He would have to hang around and watch this…this arch-nemesis perform his own role!

But the truth was, that by the time Percy had thought this sentence, everyone had already caught the plane to Western Samoa. He was stranded!

Percy was back in Australia the next day, at his local swimming pool. Don’t worry too much about how he got back from New Zealand, just don’t disregard coupons off Corn Flake packets, they have valuable prizes!

A middle-aged woman ran towards Percy anxiously. "Please, little boy! You have to help me! My daughter is in the pool and she won’t come out!"

Being the hero that he was, Planetboy, AKA Percy, gallantly ran to the girl. She was roughly the same age as Percy and to him, she was the most beautiful invertebrate he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon. Of course, this was superficial and Percy disregarded his impure thoughts. He’d learned his lesson after the shampooing incident. Still, he had to do something for her. There was a crowd around the baby pool and the girl was crouching in the middle, refusing to come out.

Percy could only watch at this point, it was far too crowded to actually save her and give her mouth to mouth. Percy, you dirty little bastard.

A man ran into the pool and held out his hand. Too everybody’s horror, she bit him! Right on the arm! Blood even came out, and the blood-o-phobic Percy had to fight his fears and not faint. As soon as the man could shout out a very obscene word, the crowd leapt back. The girl inside the pool snarled at the crowd. "Grrrrr…." She went. "Ggggrrrowl!"

Percy stepped through the crowd and approached her slowly. "Please, it’s okay," he re-assured her. But she continued to growl. "Take my hand," Percy told her. She lifted up her back in an effort to scare him away. But Percy remained still. "Come on, come here. This isn’t the way," Percy told her. "I know how you’re feeling; I’ve been there before. But this isn’t the way to protest, it just isn’t."

Slowly, the girl stopped growling. Percy came forward, and as he gave her a hug, she cried.

"It’s not fair," she howled. "It’s not fair!"

"It never is," Percy softly said as touched her hair. She sneezed and snot blew over Percy’s face.

"I miss my meower," she cried. "It’s gone! I don’t know where, but it’s gone!"

Percy let go of her and helped her up, and out of the baby’s pool.

"Your shoes are all wet," she laughed.

Percy blushed. "It was worth it. For you," he said to her. She laughed at him for saying that. She laughed at him, not with him.

"Tell me all about your lost cat," Percy sighed.

"This morning it left the house without saying good bye! I was on my way to school, and usually my pussy cat follows me up the street before being distracted by birds," she told him. "But this morning it left in the opposite direction!"

"And, what was it’s expression as it left?" the super-sympathetic machine that was Percy asked her.

She turned to him and gave him a smile. "Determined…" she whispered. Percy was in love.

"Well, uh, maybe…" Percy began.

"What…" she asked.

"Once I was in the same position," he told her. "My, uh, cat, it and yeah…well, my cat was um," Percy said, but looking at her face, complete with a pathetic but beautiful smile, he soon became a gibberish-speaking wreck. "Cats push on imminent spiritual journeys. Thespian performance find within the boundaries of path not out of life that be within reach be led."

She giggled slightly. Percy couldn’t say any more. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he realised that he’d be best to bail out of the situation right now.

"Look, I’ve got to go, bye," Percy said quickly and shot out of the swimming pool leaving the girl behind. He hadn’t even asked her name!

Percy ran and ran and ran. What on earth did he just say to that girl? Something really stupid, he bet. She probably would kill him at a given opportunity, he thought. Everyone does. No, Percy decided that nothing was going to break his stride, he’s got to keep on moving.

Eventually, he had run far enough. He was absolutely love-sick and exhausted! There was a tram up ahead, and in order to escape from this crazy little thing called love, he decided to hop on board. Of course, this was no ordinary tram.

"Roll up roll up, for the Magical Mystery Tram, step right this way!" shouted the Chinese tram driver. Wow, Percy thought. Just the thing he needed to clear his mind after the last hour’s mishaps.

Onto the tram, Percy stepped and away they went. Percy sat down and stared blankly into the window. There was banana peel on the ground that he noticed…it looked like her. Then he saw a street sign…it also looked like her. He turned and looked at the tram driver. Thankfully, he didn’t look like her.

"Now it’s time to say goodnight, goodnight, sleep tight," the tram driver sang over the speaker.

"Pardon?" Percy asked, as the tram sped faster.

"Stupid bloody Tuesday. Man, you’ve been a naughty boy, you’ve let your face grow long."

"Sorry," Percy asked. "What?"

"Although I laugh and I look like a clown, behind this mask I am wearing a frown."

Percy was puzzled and love-sick.

"You’re fleeing from something, what is it?" the driver asked.

"Nothing!" Percy shouted back. "Nothing at all!"

The driver put the tram on cruise control and walked up to Percy. He was a Chinese man who knew his stuff.

"It’s a woman, right?" he asked him. Percy didn’t respond. "I knew it! I’ve have seen that look on a man’s face a thousand times all across the country. Well, I can tell you friend, you’ll get over her."

"She was one in a million," Percy sighed. "One in a billion. One in a googolplex. The woman of my dreams and I’ve lost her for all time."

"Listen, Ralph..that is your name, right?"

"Percy."

"Percy, you can and you will get over her. With the help of some of The Beatles lyrics, that is."

"The who?" Percy asked. He didn’t know who The Beatles were.

The driver gave a chuckle and returned to the drivers seat. "I noticed that you were looking at a banana before. How does that relate to your life? If it’s to do with your mother when she made you eat one inside a supermarket when you were very young, thus getting you in trouble by the check-out girl, I know exactly how you feel."

"I am a crazy love-sick fool," Percy groaned. "Not to mention a failure."

"But you are not a failure!" the tram driver smiled. "No one is! Now you sit down and relax, for I am going to play for you a select number of The Beatles songs to help you cope with this difficult period. Are you ready?"

Percy shrugged.

"Good," he smiled, and returned to the almost functionless tram wheel.

For the remainder of that day, Percy was saturated in an abundance of The Beatles songs.

Next day, Percy awoke, refreshed by songs of a Beatle nature.

"Percy, did the songs help?" the tram driver asked. They had travelled quite far, for a Magical Mystery Tram.

"They sure did," Percy replied. "Especially that song, I Am The Walrus!"

The tram driver winked at Percy. "You are the walrus, Percy, you are the Walrus."

Enough said, really.

Later that afternoon, Percy marched down the street. He was going to see that girl! He was going to tell her how he felt, or at least ask what her name was and offer her a raw potato. He was even going to be dressed up as a walrus!

Percy had been given a new layer of confidence by John, Paul, George and even Ringo. Percy, the walrus arrived at the swimming pool and looked around. Where was she? Percy scanned the entire province, but nothing! Nothing but cold stares, people looking at a guy in a walrus costume. It’s the only way, Percy thought. She would never like him being himself, would she? Oh, no. Percy was convinced that he would have to pretend to be someone else. A walrus!

Well bless my lucky stars, she wasn’t there! I mean, Percy waited in that walrus costume for the rest of the day, but nothing! Where could she be? Percy decided that he’d better go on a full-scale investigation. If he had enough confidence, though. At the start of the day, for example, he felt fine, but now, he was a loser.

"Where is that girl from yesterday?" Percy asked a poolperson.

"We had a lot of girls yesterday, you horny little bastard," the poolperson replied.

"But the girl in question was biting people yesterday," Percy told him. "You have to know."

The poolperson lowered his head. "I think you and I had better have a little chat," he said.

Percy followed him into an office. It was also a sauna. "What happened to her?" Percy asked.

"Please, sit down, little boy," the poolperson said. "I’m afraid she…went."

"Where?" Percy asked.

"What am I, a singer-songwriter?" he told Percy. "I don’t know!"

"Are you telling me…that she has left the swimming pool?" Percy asked.

The was a long silence. "Y-yes, she…she’s gone."

"No! No!" Percy cried. The poolperson swept Percy out of the sauna and off the premises. Percy didn’t even pay to get in.

"Without her, my life has no meaning, man!" Percy cried out. "What will I do?"

What did Percy do? Go fishing?

"Yes, let’s go fishing!" replied a 13-year-old girl that happened to be next to him. This 13-year-old girl was in fact Clarence. Remember that girl who made Percy go on the phone at the airport? That girl.

"Uh, no thanks," Percy told her. "Hey, you’re that girl."

"Do you remember that stupid girl who was biting people at the pool the other day? She was stupid!"

"Do I remember her?" Percy asked in an insane way. "Do you know her?"

"No, but I can take a wild guess!" she grinned.

"Where?" Percy asked. "I must be told!"

"Meet me here later tonight. I’ll take you to her."

"Okay, I’ll be here tonight. At 6PM, cos it’s been getting dark at 6 recently. Actually, it’s quite dark by 5.30,"he told her.

"Bye bye, Bluegum!" she waved, and Percy strutted away.

(Percy has a mini-adventure in it’s own right)

That was quite a filling few hours. Percy returned and sure enough, Clarence had begun digging into the grass.

"I think that when I dig far enough, I’ll end up halfway into that waterslide!" she told him.

"No you won’t," Percy said.

"You’re right," she replied and dropped her plastic spade onto the ground. "Come on! Bluegum, we’re off to the circus!"

"What do you mean the circus?" Percy asked.

She looked at Percy strangely. "Why are you so afraid of girls?"

"I deny that!"

"She’s a circus personality!" she laughed, grabbing Percy by the hand and running.

As soon as they arrived at the circus, Percy was quite a disappointed lad. The circus was merely a camping tent, which was situated at the door of a barrister’s office. Clarence and Percy crawled through the tent, into the barrister’s office. There was a guy in there, which, by his fruitless moustache, Percy could tell was no more than sixteen. He was a big boy now! I mean, with muscles and stuff.

"Who’s this!" he yelled.

"Steve," she smiled, "this is my boyfriend Bluegum. Percy, this is my boyfriend, Steve."

Percy said nothing.

Steve said something. "Boyfriend! I’ll kill you for that, Bluegum!"

Percy was taken aback, by which I mean he was lifted up by the collar, thrown against the office wall, and he dropped to the floor.

"I’m not her boyfriend!" Percy yelled, but just by saying that he was slapped in the face by Steve.

"You’ve got to get fit, boy!" he grinned, and took him across the room to where an exercise bike awaited. He pointed to it and Percy jumped aboard.

"Pedal, boy!" he commanded. Percy pedalled, but Steve continued to whip him with his jumper. "Boy! Pedal! Ha, ha, ha!"

Clarence was watching all this and laughing. Suddenly a coffee machine took her attention away.

"You can stop pedalling now," Steve said to him. Percy stopped. "Finally, she’s gone!" he announced to him.

"What, Clarence?"

"Yes, there’s no girls here, boy! It’s just you and me, and Graham."

"Who’s Graham?" the ever-inquisitive Percy asked. Out from behind a well-placed curtain came Graham Wilson, part-time barrister and seafood critic.

"That is Graham, boy!"

Percy nodded, but that was enough for him. Not enough, it seemed, for Steve.

"There’s more!" Steve warned, and another five men came around the corner of the door. "Fred, Con, Frank, Peter and Ben, welcome!"

"What does this mean?" Percy asked. He was stupid.

"What it means, boy, is that there are eight boys and no girls! We’re free, boy!"

Percy didn’t really care. All he could think about was when he could meet that lady, that beautiful lady whose hair he wasn’t worthy to comb.

"Here we are all now, all the lads!" Steve announced triumphantly and switched on some music on a nearby, black, CD player. The song was "Hot Cop" by the Village People.

Percy had reached some very disturbing conclusions about what may happen and ran out of the room, out of the tent and fled into the night.

Percy woke up! Phew, it was all a dream. He jumped out of bed and cooked himself some vegetable pieces. Then, after he was satisfied in that respect, he left the house in search of a very special lady.

Walking down the road with a fish in hand and lettuce from here to Cadbury, Percy had more than a smiling head. Oh, there’s that lady right there, he told himself happily. Her wide open, penetrating eyes gazed into his as if her pupils were dilating a sin or cos graph with full power! And across her face, a smile spread with the precision of a bliss-bomb! She called upon Percy and he fell to her feet. She then pranced away, with Percy following not far behind.

Soon they were on their first date and Percy was telling tales. Then he would ask her how she was and she would reply such brilliant lines such as "I’m not too bad!" Percy didn’t allow her to get her own dessert, he filled the bowl up to the brim, and over, with ice-cream, chocolate fudge sauce, smarties, hundreds and thousands, red and green jelly, little peanut pieces, and nicely completed it with a single blob of chocolate mousse.

When he took the bowl back to her, she laughed but told him that she wasn’t too fond of peanuts unless they were in butter form. Percy shrugged and using his spoon he carefully took out all of the peanut pieces from her dessert. She hugged him and whispered something in his ear after that. They quickly left Pizza Hut and ran to her house to do some serious house-work.

The two of them did her dishes together. Percy put the soap onto the sponge, and delicately handed it to his lady-friend. Meanwhile she would pick up the bowl or cup and hand it to Percy, who would clean it after taking the bowl or cup. Soon, Percy lifted her up in his arms, placed her onto the sofa and returned to the sink so he could do all of the dishes himself, and he did so. Every dish, and she loved it. Soon Percy had begun to vacuum the house as well. Before long the carpet never looked better.

Suddenly it seemed that her nose was runny. Percy took a tissue and wiped it clean for her and put it into a bin. She smiled at him seductively, kissed him on the cheek and softly whispered "there’s some washing over there…" Percy didn’t need to be told twice and began folding the washing. It was almost like it was too much.

Suddenly they both heard a knock on the door. The girl opened her eyes widely. "Quick, hide!" she gasped, and Percy hid under the glass table.

"Come in!" called out the girl. Through the door came a man in a clown’s costume.

"Hello, hello, my daughter, who goes by the name that I gave her!" he said.

"Hi, dad. So, why are you home early from the circus? I thought you were coming back tomorrow morning!"

"Whoops, you’re right!" the clown said, and cartwheeled out the door. Percy came out from under the table.

The girl called Percy over, and he rushed beside her on the sofa. "My bed needs making," she said under her breath.

Percy woke up. It was all a dream! He was now inside a room with Steve and all the lads. They were playing celebrity heads, with three sitting at the front and five watching.

"Am I a duck?" asked one of them. They all looked at each other and shook their heads.

Percy still was unsure about these men and left quickly. He could taste toothpaste in his mouth and discovered by this that his teeth had been brushed as he slept. What weirdos!

As soon as Percy had left the vicinity, he realised that this wasn’t the circus at all! The circus was in fact next to the barrister’s office! To the circus, Percy ventured.

It looked nice, it was in a big tent with lights all around it, and Percy wondered how he could have missed it coming in. On the tip of the tent was a sign that read "Matthew’s Grand Old Circus", and there was a lot of hay outside. Now, Percy had been tipped by that girl, Clarence, that the mysterious but amatory woman that Percy was fond of may be at this very circus. Clarence wouldn’t lie. There was only one problem. Percy had no money. He was bankrupt! He was ruined!

Before long a beggar came up to him selling money. "Twenty-dollar notes! Twenty-dollar notes! Today, they’re on special! Six, shiny, grand, majestic twenty-dollar notes, all for only five-dollars!"

Percy’s eyes lit up. He needed money! But he couldn’t buy them, he didn’t have enough money. Five dollars was all he needed, but he didn’t even have that. But imagine the adventures that could have been, had he got into the circus!

But wait! Percy was in the circus! He sat, waiting for the act to begin. He was sandwiched in between a family. It was a nice family, which brought Percy’s eyes to puddles. He was in between a man and his wife, although he just watched the show as if he wasn’t. Meaning that, while he watched the tigers jumping through loops and dodging chairs that were thrown at them, he also was reminiscing about that couple, the Zoos. Except this couple was different. These two just couldn’t stop talking about taxes. Seriously! They were actually praising them! Percy never had to worry about tax personally because he was only small.

After seeing what, a few ponies and trapeze artists, the show was about to close (Percy had arrived pretty late). But what was brought into the circus ring in a supermarket trolley was a heap of videos. This was carted by one of those silly monkeys who think that they’re so good for riding uni-cycles. After looping the circus ring at least once, it left. There wasn’t much applause and the audience left feeling vaguely unsatisfied.

Percy read this message the right way; it was something to do with that girl! He followed that silly monkey backstage despite being discouraged by security.

The monkey wheeled the trolley full of videos into a dressing room and out popped that woman!

"It’s you!" Percy laughed in joy, running up to her and throwing his arms around her. She pushed him over.

"You’re that guy from the pool, aren’t you!" she snarled. "You are stupid!"

"I have travelled far and wide in search of your beautiful face, my lady!" Percy cried happily. "Finally I am here with you now, and we are now able to do housework together!"

She looked at Percy in disgust. "You’ll never amount to anything, you piece of shit!"

"Unless I am with you!" Percy told her, and attempted to kiss her on the cheek.

"You are the shit of the world and I hate you! You are stupid, and what’s more, dumb! Idiot, I will make sure I set you up on a blind date with someone who makes your life intolerable!"

Percy looked a bit disheartened after this outburst from her. "But we can go out on a date, can’t we?"

She looked at him in the eye and told him slowly, "I already have a boyfriend. Suck, loser!"

Percy started to walk away, deciding that it would be best that she didn’t see his tears.

But quickly and efficiently, she bounded ahead of him and watched him cry. She grabbed him and threw him onto the couch. "What’s wrong, stupid? Going to cry because you are a little shit? Because I have a boyfriend? Because you will never be loved by anyone? Get used to it, no body loves you, loser!"

Percy began to bawl his eyes out. As the tears trickled onto the floor, she laughed at him. "I don’t believe it! You actually thought you had a chance with me? Even if you were good-looking I wouldn’t like you, because you are rotten inside, you little pervert! Come on, let’s see some more tears!"

More tears poured out and Percy was actually too weak to stand. Suddenly she leaned over him and gave him a teddy bear.

"There, there," she told him calmly. "If you want to be a busker so much, you should get an award!" She then kicked him in the bottom. "Go to Hobart, or New Zealand! Let’s see, how abouts this?"

She stood up, and reached into a high cupboard. Out of it, she brought a heap of cards. What exactly were they, Percy couldn’t comprehend.

"Come on, you loser. Take these and run away! You won’t have to worry about me and my lover, because you will already have drowned in your own tears!"

She catapulted the cards onto the top of Percy’s neck. Percy looked at them through his distorted, tear soaked vision and saw that they were video game cards.

"Out!" she commanded, and Percy slunk away.

Soon Percy had been swept away by the video games. What they were, he didn’t know. What time it was, he didn’t know. Where he was, he didn’t know. But nothing mattered. His love hated him.

After months of obsessive video game playing, amidst a horrible world mind you, Percy found the courage to look away from the television screen. Because what he saw was the face of that woman that hated him.

Percy screamed.

Understand this; that it was merely a dream. Percy was under the false impression that he would actually be granted that sort of contact over his love.

Percy was merely spooked. He walked the earth, haunted by the dream. For him, it was sign, to give up and become apathetic.

Noticing the extraordinary amount of hay near the circus tent gave Percy the idea of sleeping on it.

After seeing the boy fast asleep, the lion tamer poked him with a chair. His face looked up; with eyes that stared blankly at him. Th lion tamer looked into Percy’s pupils but saw nothing. Percy rose from the hay and looked into the merciless magnitude of the night. Whatever reason and meaning there was in life, Percy had lost it. He was in sleepwalking country and neither you nor I was going to stop this young sleepwalker from sleepwalking.

You may or may not be aware of this, but Hermit’s bakery was going through a tough time. Ever since Mr Hermit’s brother-in-law had dressed up as a lemon and run off with his lawyer, his bakery had become broke, bankrupt, ruined! There was one hope however; the Completely Unofficial Hermit Mandarin Juggling Contest. It was a charity event organised by Mr Hermit and his pet goldfish, in order to revive his bakery. It was to be held at night, and all of Hermit’s customer’s were going to be there to help. But there’s two things to note about Hermit’s customers. That they one: hate people wearing cheap shoes, and two: without exception, flee whenever they see anyone in bear feet. Without exception!

Now it just so happened that while they were running the charity event, just when they were about to collect the donations after the mandarin juggling had begun, that the sleepwalking flounder, Percy, or to put it better, the Mexican Sleepwalking Fish, Percy, was sleepwalking right into the middle of the festival. Barefoot!

Needless to say, they fled. Percy awoke when he heard someone yell: "Damn you Bluegum! You may have won this round, but I’ll get you yet!"

As soon as he realised he was lost, Percy looked up into the sky and saw the simpleness of the world. Things were not so bad. The sky was dark; there were grey and purple clouds up there, and it had a calming effect on the little chickadee. Everything was going to be all right. If he could just see that girl again.

"Hello, Bluegum!" came a voice behind him. He looked behind him to see that lady from his dreams! "How are you?" she asked with a smile.

But before her ears could be blessed with a response, Bluegum had run into the distance.

"What was I thinking?" Percy asked himself as he ran. Fear, distress! Anguish! Torment! The little nipper jogged and sprinted alternatively until he was well on the way to earning a job at the local train museum.

"The rules here are plain and simple," The Fat Controller told Percy. "Your job is clean the engines. They are very dirty and need cleaning!"

"Yes, sir, please, sir," Percy replied to him.

"Good, Percy. I’m sure that you’ll prove to be a really useful worker."

"Oh, thank you sir!"

Percy left the Fat Controller and went off to clean the engines.

"Pooh!" snorted Henry, a tall man with a chin that seemed to say a million words. "Percy thinks he can clean those trains better than us, does he? We’ll show him!"
Next to Henry were two other workers, both sporting shirts with their names and numbers on them respectively. They were James and Gordon. The three of them proceeded to taunt Percy.

"Don’t you know, new kid, that the Fat Controller actually hates these trains!"

"Really?" asked Percy.

"Yes," they laughed to each other. "If you should happen to take the train for a little bit of a ride, the Fat Controller wouldn’t do anything at all!"

"Really?" Percy asked.

James grinned. "He’d be very pleased if you do!"

"Well, that’s just what I’ll do!" the naive little man responded. Percy put down the rag and the polish and climbed into the large, tender-engine’s bunker. He lit the fire and filled it with coal, and pretty soon the train was ready to go! "Peep-peep!" went the train and steam started to spread across the yard.

As the train’s wheels started to turn, Percy looked out to see a fuming Fat Controller.

"You are a very disobedient worker! I am beginning to consider James, Gordon and Henry for the job of cleaning the engines!" he scolded. Percy stopped the train and looked very guilty indeed.

"Percy was a very naughty boy, wasn’t he?" Henry smiled to the Fat Controller.

"And as for you three, you’re worse!" he thundered. "You should have seen Percy and stopped him! That’s it, I’m reducing your pay back by sixty percent!"

James, Gordon and Henry all slunk away.

"I’m sorry about that, Percy. Now what do you say you get back to cleaning the engines?"

"Oh, thank you sir!" Percy chortled.

The other three workers secretly despised Percy.

That night, the three workers held an indignation meeting.

"It’s shameful to treat us workers this way! Percy’s the one who misbehaves and we lose sixty percent of our wages! Yuck!"

"Listen," said Gordon. He whispered something to the others. "We’ll do it tomorrow. The Fat Controller will look silly." The three workers had decided to go on strike!

Percy was happily cleaning the trains when he heard the news.

"Those bloodstained workers are striking!" the Fat Controller yelled to him. "You know what that means, don’t you?"

"What does that mean, sir?" Percy asked.

"You have to get their wages!" the Fat Controller told him, sternly.

"Right on!" Percy proclaimed.

And so, Percy worked twice as hard that day; for the sun had only recently arrived and the night was not apparent yet.

The next morning, while Percy was carefully shining each piece of the engine’s coal, Henry, Gordon and James approached him.

"Don’t you think that it’s weird that we’re on strike, but we’re inside the train museum?"

"Not really," Percy replied.

"But usually, when workers go on strike, they stay outside and protest!" James complained. "I don’t know what planet you’re from, Percy, but we’re from the planet earth!"

The Fat Controller came out of his office to see what all of the fuss was about. "What on earth are you three doing in here!" he asked angrily. "I though you were on strike!"

"We are, and until you give us back our pay, we’re not coming back!" Gordon huffed. To the Fat Controller’s dismay, Henry looked at him with a frown. In response, the Fat Controller eyed Percy.

"I believe Percy has something to tell you all," he sneered.

Percy dropped his head. "The, uh, Fat Controller…"

"Sir Topham Hatt to you!" the Fat Controller yelled.

"Sir Topham Hatt is giving me all of your, uh, money," Percy confessed.

Gordon sat on the ground for no reason and got up again. "You runt!" he exclaimed. "You know what this means, don’t you!"

"What does this mean?" asked Percy.

"We three workers despise you as a person!"

Phooey, Percy thought to himself. He looked to his left and noticed the three workers scornfully watching him. He looked to his right and noticed the Fat Controller waving a pair of tap shoes.

"Percy, the address is inside the shoe."

Matthew Corbett had been bragging for quite some time to his guests. The owner of an expensive Scottish pie store, he also held conferences in ballrooms to swinging bachelors who enjoyed puppets being on their hands as they listened to Corbett’s wise words of the earth in general. One of the swinging bachelors also happened to be a tap-dancing teacher.

"Back in the day," Corbett bragged, "I was known as Matthew ‘the feet’ Corbett."

"Yes, well, with my students will turn out fine," the tap dancing teacher told him, "with a lot of training."

"Ha, training, training," Matthew Corbett laughed. "You’re talking to the right person when you’re talking about training. Let me tell you about training! You see I know all about the hard work involved. I’ve been through it all myself you know. Where as your training may have been quite long, you see, mine was relatively short but it was very intensifying because I have so much natural talent, I didn’t need to train that long. But that meant I was immediately in the professional circuit of tap dancers! And I was very soon performing alongside, uh, Lorry! So, Lorry was amazed at my talent and said my credentials, were unbelievable!"

The swinging bachelors listened to Matthew Corbett’s life story attentively, though the tap-dancing teacher was sceptical.

"And then the director said to me, he said uh, ‘do you have two left feet?’ I think he was very impressed with my tap dancing routine," Matthew Corbett explained to them. "And I said to him ‘that may seem to be alright!’" Matthew paused for a chuckle. "Alright!"

The tap dancing teacher crossed his arms. He wanted proof!

Matthew continued. "Anyway this didn’t go down too well and the director was rather cross with me, which is a shame, it turned them against my interpretation; the part that until that point, had been going really very well and the show I can tell you, the performance would have down…with a bang!"

At this point there was a knock at the door of the ballroom. "Come in!" Matthew yelled out.

Percy opened up the door with a smile. "Here you go, Matthew Corbett! Here’s your tap shoes, all itching to be let out of the little bag!"

Matthew was silent.

"Now you can really show us how it’s done, Matthew!" the cynical tap dancing teacher grinned.

"Tap dancing? I hardly think I’m dressed for it, do you?" he spluttered. "I mean, I’d prefer a bath!"

"Come on Matthew," the swinging bachelors all applauded.

The tap dancing teacher stood up from his seat. "How about something like this?" Using his normal, standard blue suede shoes, he tapped out a simply delicious rhythm.

Matthew was bewildered. "Well, of course I could have done that, but, I haven’t got my tap shoes on, have I?"

Percy gave a little cough, took the tap-shoes out of their little bag and placed them in the hands of Matthew Corbett. "Well, thanks, kid. I’ve got no excuses now. Well, you asked for it!"

Matthew began finely, but ended up falling down on the floor in a wreck. There was laughter among the swinging bachelors.

"I thought so!" the tap dancing teacher chortled. "You can’t tap dance! You were boasting!"

Matthew Corbett climbed to his feet, his back aching. "Well, alright, I may have been boasting a little," he said in his embarrassed defence. "One things for sure I am very rusty! But listen! I did use to be able to tap dance you know!"

No one believed him after that and Percy returned to the Fat Controller.

Things had changed at the train museum. The Fat Controller had been overthrown and the ruler was now Gordon. It was bound to happen sooner or later. The Fat Controller was locked in a cage and was singing various hits by none other than the fanciful "Leonardo’s bride".

"Oh, come on, Fat Controller. Sing something with a little bit more bounce in it!"

The Fat Controller was tightly gripping the bars of the cage in anxiety. "Why, Gordon?"

Gordon thought for a moment and then took a ten-cent piece out of his pocket. "I’m stupid, okay! I know it, you know it, I’m dumb! So get over it, will you?"

The Fat Controller got over it and in came Percy. "Hi, Gordon. Hi, Sir Topham Hatt!"

Suddenly a freedom fighter jumped over the fence and karate-kicked Gordon in the back of his leg. "Ouch!" Gordon said.

Percy was given a big hug and then he was given a pat on the back. The freedom fighter looked at him in fondness. "Coochy-choochy-coo!" he teased, and screwed up Percy’s hair.

"Aw, shucks!" Percy blushed. Soon the freedom fighter had taken off his jacket and put it on Percy’s back.

Percy had never been showered with such attention! It was unfortunate that the freedom fighter was such a threat to Percy’s existence; the man was very surprising, you see, and Percy didn’t enjoy surprises. Soon things were back to normal and Percy had decided that his point of action now was to return to his school and clear up their little misunderstanding.