Who is he? What does he want? When will the tormenting stop? Our first encounter occurred on a SuperFast ferry from Ancona, Italy to Patras, Greece. It was an overnight excurssion. Conditions were good. It looked like smooth sailing. That night our 'group' were watching as CG slowly got more and more tipsy. But something distracted me. It was a strange man. A man in a red singlet, tight black leather pants and wacked out white hair. It was the rockstar. He sat at the bar and ordered drink after drink. He was enjoying himself, spining in his chair to the phat beats of the wrongly publicised disco.

The night was young, the music, strange. We moved from our seats into a darker corner of the boat. That's where the fun began. Crack, smash, biff, pow, oof. It was like something from the Batman series with Adam West. It was a battling brawl. The fiesty Greek men verse the gay Polish party men. The dispute; which side was king of the 2m squared dancefloor. Glasses were being thrown, men being strangled on tables. It was getting ugly. I checked on the ageing rockstar- he sat looking at his glass. Our uno numero sent us to our rooms for fear of our safety. The rockstar looked at the fight, he was going to do something. What he did we'll never know, but the next morning the Greco-Polo wreslers were no-where to be found. The ageing rockstar was back at the bar. He gave a coy look and swilled down his gin.

Finally we arrived in Greece. Our happy acolade trunched of the boat and into an awaiting bus. I kept a 'sharpe' eye out for the ageing rockstar but he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was conciling to the Deadly Viper Squad. I chuckled heartily as I saw the Greco-Polo wrestlers being pushed into a vehicle. I looked into my bag and got the shock of my life. I'd left my Pringles on the boat, or had I? Being the cool and coy guy I am I scanned the bus, maybe it was one of them. Or was it the ageing rockstar? After what seemed like 15 minutes our bus finally departed. I took one last look at the ship. The ageing rockstar was coming down gang-way and looking at our bus. Alongside him he had a long black bag- capable of carrying a samurai sword or two. I turned back to the front, my troubles were over. Or were they? To be continued...

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