I Cannot Tell A Lie Sir Chiz Chiz Chiz

It was I who chopped down the cherry tree! It was I who went to the Birmingham Comics Convention and challenged a 60-year-old man to a FITE!

You would think Birmingham was violent enuff but YOU WOULD BE WRONG ETC. Let me give the backstory to the duel that was more exciting than Stephen Spielberg’s seminal fillum DUEL.

Friday was the day! Death was the hour! Or possibly three in the morning. It’s past three in the morning now and I’m just as drunk now as I was then, so my actions make the most perfect sense in the world.

Is it FIRE in my eyes – - or the glow of MACHINES?? Watch how my fingers burn over the keys – - so sure what I do – - I HAVEN’T A CLUE!! YOUNG OFFENDER etc copyright Pet Shop Boys etc etc

Anyway, I found myself sitting in a large circle of humans… opposite a man I knew of old… to my REGRET!! His name was Pete and he had a habit of insinuating himself into conversations with people and then showering them with wrong opinions. For example, on a previous occasion, he’d told me that my own work was a load of foolishness – admittedly it was a ten pee comic I’d drawn with a biro, but still, HOW DARE HE ETC – and THEN to add an insult to all who lived to an insult to me personally, he said that JACK KIRBY COULDN’T TELL A STORY.

WELL EH WOT I MEAN TO SAY WOT CHIZ CHIZ CHIZ ETC

My course was clear. I had to lure him out and then give him a savage beating! I’m a violent man by nature after reading so much 2000AD and EC Comics, however my life of cowardly pacifism had not given me the knowledge of courtly challenges I needed. He had not spilled my pint and my girlfriend could not be looked at as she does not currently exist. I had to resort to desperate measures!

“If anyone thinks Jack Kirby could not tell a story… they are welcome to STEP OUTSIDE!” I bellowed.

My challenge was unanswered! Pah! Bosh! And so forth!

“Let me repeat! There is A DRUBBING in the offing to all those who care to disrespect Jack Kirby’s storytelling ability! A THOROUGH DRUBBING! Say the words of stroytelling disrespect and prepare to receive it! A DRUBBING!”

But even the offer of A DRUBBING could not arouse the sluggard! And with good reason, because he had gone to sleep. Or possibly he was pretending to be asleep in order to take the sensible option i.e. not humiliate us both. However I cannot help but remark that IN YE OLDENE DAYSE OF CHILVALREYE we would be lancing each other up the arse at dawn! AND MAYBE THAT’S WHAT OUR ASBO CHAV NATION REQUIRES. Look at our triumphant rugby victory against the frogs – TEN HOURS EARLIER THOSE MEN WERE SHOOTING MUSKET BALLS INTO EACH OTHER’S URINARY TRACTS. And that’s true.

Anyway, I’d like to offer an apology to Pete – not for challenging him as THAT IS WHAT MADE OUR ISLAND NATION GRATE ETC but for failing to follow up on this challenge by beating him senseless, and then, since he had no second in his duel, taking the place of his second and beating myself senseless also. THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE ACT OF A TRUE ENGLISHMAN

ETC