The Case Of The Missing Hamster: Chapter Fifteen


The Fifteenth Bit:  Home Time



The drive back was quite relaxing.

It had taken Pete three hours to find a replacement hamster.  Probably would have been quicker, but I’d made him walk.  Well, none of us have a driving licence.  Still, I’d look into driving licences when we got back home.  Even with my excessive speeding and kangaroo driving I still drove better than most Colonials.

“I think we did quite well with a colour match with that hamster.”  Pete said, rummaging around in the glove compartment for the mints.

“And it really didn’t mind being assaulted with permanent markers.”  Funny how much hamster bites hurt.

“Humphrey?”  Pete said.  “Did you eat all of the mints?”

“No.  They make me fart.”  Humphrey was sat in the back, picking bits of rabbit fur out of his hair.  “Dad?”

“And wasn’t it nice of Miss Clare to give us a signed copy of her book each?”

“Oh yes.”  I said slapping him around the head with my copy.  “And how nice of you to say that we didn’t need a BIG BAG OF CASH, that the books were more than enough payment.  When we get back to the office…”


“… I will be nailing your shoes to the floor and we can play that nice game we play with the Office Pool Cue.”


“Still…  Oooh.  Found a mint.”  Pete crunched away.  “Still….. Miss Clare did look very relaxed when we left.  Faustus.  Didn’t you have a big box of handkerchiefs in here when we left.  Those really big ones that you can wrap around your neck when it’s cold.  I could have sworn that there were at least a dozen.  Have you got a cold Humphrey?”



“No Humphrey, we are not there yet.  What the Hell do you want?”

“You know how Clare has this bloke in the Flying Army Lot?”

“Yes.  What about it?”

“And you know how he has this really big chopper?”

“I hardly think that the size of his penis is relevant.”  Chipped in Pete.

“What about it?”

“And you know how some of them have these really big missiles hanging from the bottom of them?”

“Will you just get to the fucking point?”

“Why don’t you take a look in the rear view mirror?”

I looked in the rear view mirror.

“Humph, there’s not a damn thing on the road.”

“Dad, why don’t you look about thirty feet above the road?”

I angled the mirror.

I looked.



Bollocks in a Bucket.


He did have a big chopper after all.


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: