Day One (part 4)
by Juno Lister
So with the spiked ball incident still stuck in my head, (at least it wasn't stuck where the poor fellow we brought in had it) we resumed our patrols in Butterfly Street. We stood on a corner watching the good and bad people of Valroma go about their business. I looked up at the top of the Street, the tall looming bloodbowl stadium dwarfed the buildings that lined either side of Butterfly Street. It was getting dark and at the top of the road the gas-light lady was busy turning on the street lights. With each gas lamp that was turned on the buildings hugging it were illuminated. Butterfly Streets buildings seemed to lean in, their upper floors always looking as if you could jump across into the building opposite, and it hasn’t been unknown to see the odd rat do precisely that. As she brought her little ladder towards us to light the lamp near us Hunt-Fawshaw shouted “Evening Miss Estata!”
The little plump gas lighter, Aquarian by birth came over to us. She was dirty from her work her jet black hair matching the colour of her overall she could only been about 20 she smiled at the Guard “Evenink Guard Unt-Fawshaw”
She also had some bandages on her forearms and on closer inspection she wasn’t plump at all but done up like a mummy in bandages
“How are you feeling today Faye? Nasty old business that last week” Hunt- fawshaw remarked in a concerned kind of way.
“Ooh issa not so bad…issa nice a place.” As she lit the gas lamp and closed its housing she moved on to the next.
Hunt-Fawshaw explained that Faye had recently gone to Dave’s Tandoori before work and had one of his tuna and green bean specials. Three lamps into her round she broke wind as she was lighting a lamp and was engulfed in flames. She would have been putout quicker if it wasn’t for a tourist party of San Pedrians who thought it was fireworks put on in their honour and stood their shouting as poor Faye swung her arms and rolled around. It was indeed Guard Hunt-Fawshaw who came to her rescue and put her out. He even waved the citation he gave her for unlicensed street entertainment. It goes to show that behind every guard there is a man with a heart.
So whilst standing watching the world of Butterfly Street go by I found out through conversation with Hunt-Fawshaw that Guards sign up for 30 years. At the end of which they either retire or stay on until they drop, on yearly contracts. Some retire and get jobs to keep them busy in their old age. One of the top jobs a retired guard seeks is a consultant at Attard’s Far-Q Ask Hole.
The Far-Q Ask Hole is a citizen’s advice bureau. It is as it says on the tin. A queue so long, the end is far far away and the place is a hole. You can find it in a little entrance just past La Madam’s, in fact the queue is so long and slow it has been known that you could join it, then as you reach La Madam’s dip in’ do what you have to do and come out, back into the queue a few yards further down. When you eventually get to the end of the queue you are met with a round shaped red wooden door which is open. Once inside you are confronted with a huge dark hall. A small goblin in a brown waistcoat and suit trousers meets you at the door and holds you there until a consultant is free. You’ll find that most people/creatures in Butterfly Street will be very smartly dressed. It’s been said that it helps counteract the seedy reputation the street has around the city. This particular goblin had a green slime smear on his trousers a button missing from his waistcoat and what appeared to be mould on his off white shirt. The consultants are behind a long counter separated into little booths, it’s dark, it’s dingy, smells of cabbage and urine and is generally quite dull. The murmur of voices can be heard as the consultants pass on their knowledge for which they have just bartered a princely sum before gracing the customer with their knowledge .The murmur is shattered momentarily as a second goblin who monitors the cubicles screams out a number. As a satisfied customer leaves (ok ...when a customer leaves they are rarely that satisfied!) the ‘cubicle goblin’ shouts out which cubicle is free and ‘door goblin’ lets the next person in. This operation opens up at six in the morning and closes at 10 at night. The goblins do not move from their posts, this probably accounts for the urine smell. The cabbage? Well, as stated the consultants are old boys, in fact the tea boy is 90 which kind of explains a lot. Rumour has it he starts off with his trolley at breakfast time and morning tea arrives around closing time.
On this day by sheer coincidence a disturbance could be heard coming from the Far Q Ask Hole. I hurried behind Hunt-Fawshaw as he pushed his way past the queue as we entered the hall. The dark bottle green walls made it difficult to see what was going on. As my eyes adjusted from the street lighting, at cubicle 17 there was a man ranting!
“I paid a fortune, for that!”
Behind the counter was an old boy clutching his face, blood was seeping through his fingers as he tried to stop his bloody nose from ruining his pearl white shirt. He saw that Guard Hunt-Fawshaw was present and in a very well to do voice shouted
“Guard this man has punched me after his consultation, could you commence a jolly good kicking please there’s a good chap”
Hunt-Fawshaw ignoring the consultant asked the man who I now know to be Phil Zupdapool what his question was to the consultant.
“I own the Valroma Swimming Baths and the water pressure is very low at the moment due to the water shortage. I have many many swimmers coming in to do their lengths and I haven’t enough water so I queued here all day, paid a princely sum for this imbecile to suggest I close lanes 7 and 8. So I hit him when he wouldn’t give me my money back”
Hunt-Fawshaw shook his head put his hand on Phil’s shoulder turned him around so he was facing an old faded sign on the wall saying.
NO REFUNDS FOR UNWANTED ADVICE
Whilst Phil was still looking at the sign Hunt-Fawshaw took his sword from his scabbard and with the heavy pommel at the bottom of the hilt drove it down on the back of Phil’s head. Phil dropped immediately to the floor. The consultant stood up looked over the desk and looked back up at Hunt-Fawshaw.
“It wasn’t like that in my day, he would have been danced on by the guards clog dancing team by now”
Hunt-Fawshaw walked away leaving Phil out cold and filling the floor with a little pool of blood. He turned to the consultant and said
“Because of the barbaric ways in your day, you have made our job now so much harder!”
We made our way back to barracks, it was the end of Hunt-Fawshaw’s tour of duty, he was off to his dorm, knowing he had done his bit to keep society safe. After the goodbyes I walked home along Butterfly Street. There I saw the night guard watching over the street. La Madam’s was in full swing revellers were out singing, puking and relieving themselves against shop windows. I reached the top of the Street and I saw Leli the San Pedrian Stadium janitor with a red can of paint painting over the light blue he had started that morning.
“Another decision from the owners eh lel?”
Leli nodded enthusiastically “No problem. I paint it red they want it red? I give dem red”
I finished writing my report; I couldn’t wait for the next day, where were my adventures going to lead me with Guard Isaac Hunt -Fawshaw? What was I going to witness tomorrow?
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