I'm doing 43 things
whilst on holiday in Greece, on the beach at night, getting intimate with a certain someone, a wandering Romany chanced upon our belongings – the wallet, mobile, iPod – everything did he take. However, fail did he to behold the power and cunning of my spying, ever-alert eyes. Up I got, my lips stealing away from hers, and off did I run in the direction of the urchin with a view to knocking him down, and knock him down I most certainly did. Tackled him to the floor, filling his mouth and ridiculously old-fashioned hair with that most foul of materials, sand. Bludgeoned him I did, consumed by rage and morbid joy, and retrieved my most precious belongings.
Yet me be not the man to leave a pulped fellow alone to wallow in pain and blood. Inform did I, the nearest hotelier of my victim’s plight, and off I went back to my handsome girl to finish off the night.
