eating a donut and suddenly i am nude discussing executive pay-packets with my bosses who are also nude and as cosy and comfortable as can be expected. funnily enough i then find myself skipping along a dirt path nude with sophie in tow, singing 'you can't hurry love' (no not the supremes but the phil collins version unfortunately). breaking off down acton road, we run through the green lights down to the town proper. a refurbished antique fire station is now a row of gourmet shops. i see an aging and fat isabella rossalini. it seems that we simply must find something to cover our nudity. a kindly baker provides us with crusty yeasty loaves of bread with which to hide our genitals from public view.
unfortunately some men surprise us, bursting through a side door and thrusting guns at at our temples, they kidnap us. they refuse to tell us the name of their leader, only that they are enemies of my bosses. struggling, bound in rope and wire, riding down bangalee street in the back seat of their white sedan, i catch a glimpse of the black and white purring furriness that is mr. minty the sexy-wonder-cat. i remember then that i left him outside that weatherboard house once before and now he has multiplied in his vrility... even though he is a neuter there is now a mr.minty-clone outside every house along the street. the kidnappers, who i now know are from NASA, seize him, laughing heartily when they see what he means to me. i watch in horror as chuckling all the while, they tie string to each paw and a bullet to each end. each time they fire their guns one of his furry little legs is ripped off - they toss aside this bleeding furry remainder.
i am kept in a padded cell with a stern female guard. instructions are that i am not to wear a bra nor use pen and paper. it all seems so pointless. wistfully i look outside to where i cannot go. i hear a balloon canvas roaring in the wind before it comes into view. a female acrobat swings on a rope far above, precarious in the gusts of volatile wind. i think she will die but she doesn't. some skatey-kids smuggle me some paper and pen - who cares about bras? when the NASA leader finds out he shames and punishes my guard. sending her to kensington campus seems like a fate worse than death.