While waiting at an exceptionally perilous crossing, the cars whizzing past at breakneck speeds, Stig noticed a small group of women clustered together near the traffic lights opposite. They looked to be in their early twenties, possibly students, conversing amongst themselves with a seemingly effortless reciprocation. Stig returned his gaze to the pavement, not daring to look up again until the little green man had appeared. However the group were now on the move, striding off to the left and although his bus stop was only a few blocks up front, the midget decided to follow them. Walking a few feet behind, he subsequently realised that they weren't students at all, but instead a gang of disturbingly mature-looking schoolgirls, their constant chatter punctuated as it was with talk of homework and O levels. Yet they stood a clear metre taller than the midget who felt both intimidated and excited in their presence. Where were they going? For they were leading him into one of the most notorious of neighbourhoods, a real crime black-spot; an area whose reputation practically rivalled that of the 'Terror Tower'. As he gazed at the girls' posteriors - the adumbration of their pantylines was delightfully conspicious - Stig found himself entertaining the rather silly notion of introducing himself, calling out to them and requesting he tag along. However the plastic of his Pampers brought him down to earth, its rhythmic swishing a ceaseless reminder that he was packing nappies. But he still hurried along, desperate to keep up with the girls, for did they care where he was heading, had they heard of such places, such practices? Grown men dressing up as school boys, he most certainly deserved a lick of the paddle for this!