Angry Old Guy
Mit local resident Anderson Freeway.
"Greetings folks, and welcome to my new web column. You wonít know me,
for we have only just met Ė and even then itís hardly a two way
communication process. Iím imagining that you are all sitting in some sort
of vast school assembly hall, while I dictate my column viciously from the
pulpit. Iíve been asked to write a couple of words, on a permeable regular
basis, on our town, as Iím told that it is quite, quite unique. The name of
our town is Ketsbaia. It is in the middle of the Atlantic sea, and so far we
have been able to circumnavigate discovery from the rest of the outside
world by putting blue tree branches above all the structures so it looks
like the sea Ė you know, just like the popular Alex Garland film and itís
bookish adaptation The Beach!
At any rate, the folk here are not really like most people in the rest of
the world. In our utopian lives, all our aeroplanes are made out of twigs,
and we have to eat plastic fruit instead of real fruit because the only
vegetation are those trees you see on telly - what do you call them? Ė
rubber plants. Also, there is a huge mountain on one side of the town where
folk like to travel on their holidays; itís all right over that way you see.
Young Bryan, who now works in ďthe City,Ē used to love it up there, until he
realised that he couldnít check his stock prices with his colleagues in
Monaco as it was out of range of a hotspot for his swanky wi-fi enabled
laptop, which he fashioned for himself out of clay and sand.
So there you have it. I hope you enjoy, but please
donít blow our cover on WMD because we have shit loads of them. Just in
case, for self defence, from seagulls and that."