The author woke up and looked about him suspiciously. He had been asleep an awfully long time. A few empty bottles of red wine lay at his feet and a discarded pizza box had learnt to walk and was tottering across the room. The pizza box was pretty excited about this newfound talent.
"Huzzaroonie!" it proclaimed, and was promptly eaten by Penguicactusaur.
"What the fuck?" demanded the author with profound irritation. "You aren't in this A Story!"
Penguicactusaur disappeared in a puff of logic to go hang with Douglas Adams somewhere in the non-existent afterlife. A raptor appeared in its place.
"Man, I wonder if my readership remembers me," said the author uncertainly, as he looked at a calendar and realised much time had passed. He looked again for the source of his hibernation, when suddenly his nose started working again. It detected body odour; a smell that could knock somebody out for a lifetime.
The author slumped onto the floor. tuf bono tugged his arm.
"mister author sir ma'am, i'm hungry, hungry like an acrifan child before live aid."
"Go fucking ask that decrepit Bob Geldof or something," slurred the half-unconscious author.
"but mister author sir ma'am, i gotta get my pizza!"
"Here's a few bucks." The author dopily threw some coins at tuf bono, who swallowed them and went in search of tuf edge. tuf edge would surely be more reliable than that author fellow. tuf edge would surely respect his need for pizza!
tuf bono staggered down the hallway. He was in a hotel on the road to Washington CD. He wasn't quite sure why, but then he couldn't remember anything that had happened three minutes ago, let alone three months. Three walls of the hallway were ornate, decorated in the style favoured by hat mouse; the fourth wall was broken.
"hey hey i see you there tuf edge!" yelled tuf bono at a figure he could see running away down the far end of the hall. tuf edge turned around with a deep dejected sigh.
"Hey tuf bono, respect to you," he said lifelessly.
"hey hey tuf edge man i need some pizza 'cause i'm hungry like a child in acrifa! my heart cries out for pizza! i haven't had any pizza for ten minutes and i just don't know if i can take it any more tuf edge!"
"God, tuf bono, stop using exclamation marks," cautioned tuf edge. "You're wasting your grammar quota for the month. June's only just begun!"
"yeah but where's my pizza? am i gonna have to send a MESSIDGE to RONALD RAYGUN to get more pizza places built here or something, so that it takes a second to say 'i'd like a meatlovers please'?"
tuf edge shook his head. "Look, tuf bono, we'll find you some pizza, just please, first, would you help me drag Bob Geldof's decrepit corpse outside so that we can bury him?"
"what what no Bob Geldof can't be dead!"
"He died of decrepitude while you were eating all of his food."
"oh no no this can't be right!"
Bob Geldof decrepitly slunk up to tuf bono. "Hey tuf bono, fuck, I'm glad to see you, I was nearly dead there but then my fuckin' soul was rejuvenated when I remembered those poor starving Acrifan children in the heart of the dark continent and I thought you, you and I could write a song that will Make A Difference."
"make me pizza then we'll talk."
"tuf bono, I will bring you pizza, and Heineken, and you and I shall write a song that will transform a generation. A song for people. What matters is The Song. This will be A Song about our Heart for Acrifa!"
"i get pizza for writing about acrifa? verily i say unto you, Bob Geldof, this A Song will tell the world about the promised land! we as songwriters will get to the promised land! i 'heart' for acrifa."
Robert Smith moped through the end of the chapter of this A Story to remind the reader of his gothic presence and of the album he would release on his birthday in April, two months ago. Why, dear reader, does Robert Smith lie? This and more to be answered when the author regains consciousness! Meanwhile, Bob Geldof respected tuf bono's need for Acrifan pizza.
. Yes, it SAYS James May...BUT!, Yakety Sax is pretty much her theme song.
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