Finger Flexing Exercises. Mad Thoughts. Maybe a book for kids.

So there I was out in the garden, at night, lamping slugs with a flash light. I suppose most of you are too young to remember when people went Lamping Rabbits after the war. No! Not the war in Kuwait or Iraqi or Korea, or Afghanistan...or The Liveline Call in program with Hoe Puffy 1345-1500. World War II! No! Two not Eleven. It was easy. Not the War: the Lamping.''

After falling into and crawling out of a ditch , or two, you switched on a big light - N0! You didn't trail a cable way back home, to a socket - you had a big battery, and you dazzled a rabbit and then you got - Oh! I forgot you needed another fool to go with you, a co-conspirator, - got that from Judge Judy - to belt Bunny over the head with the stick.

Now when you got Bugs home and out of his Long Johns and funny long-eared hat, and into the pot, you sat back and got the veg and spuds ready.

Where was I? Oh Yea! In the garden with the flash light looking for slugs when I heard a voice say “Have ya got a lite? Pal! A lite.”

I almost watered the cabbages again. I jumped around shouting “Who's there? I have a black belt! I knew it was holding up my pants, but I hoped the intruder - Crimecall, this time - didn't know that.

There was no one there. I was just about to go into the house and have a big cup of Coca to steady me nerves when I heard it again.

“ I said. Have ya got a LITE? Pal.”

Again I shouted. “I have all the Karate Kid videos and I watched The Sound of Music fourteen times.”

“Down here Pal. Shine that light down here.” I did. There was nothing there only a slug sitting on a rock, casually chewing on an over- hanging cabbage leaf .

Good I thought relieved - couldn't resist the Pun. It's only a talking head of cabbage. And then the slug said. “Shine it over that way a bit Pal. This being in the Limelight is drying me out.”In my best Miley accent, I said. “Well Holy God! A talking slug!”

“ I prefer Limacidae, genus Limax, species,L.maximus. Got that in The World Book Encyclopedia.” He Said. “But I goes be the name of Slugger.”

“Where did you get that name? I said, still confused , trying to wrest back the initiative in conversation: like they told me to do on my IMI Project Management Course.

“From you.”
“Me. I never met you before!”
“I've been watching you.” He said, just like the way Stephen King says it, somewhere in every bloody book he ever wrote.
“After all, I learned to speak your language from you. You garden and then you stop and start boxing the air. Punch Punch, Snort Snort shouting I got ya now Rocky.”
“No I don't!” I yelled.
“Yes you do!” He yelled back.
“Don't.”
“Do.” He said again.
“Don't.” I screamed.
And then he got me.“Don't.” He screamed back.
“Do!” I roared triumphantly arms akimbo, doing my little victory dance. Well! Sh-one-t! Bested by a slug. Well - a very intelligent slug.

And then he told me the story.