Astute followers of the Schö will remember that, last week, I promised to give you some dreams on last Sunday. All would have gone to plan, were it not for the fact that I was kidnapped by Russian terrorists.
My time in Stalag Merrylee was not too hard. They even let me out on Friday night, to see the frankly divine Eels. I went to the Concert Hall, with the explicit instruction that I be accompanied by my good friend Jamie, and his lovely friend Rachel. A good evening was had by all, and was improved by the fact that they came on to do at least three encores.
Showing in the prison cinema was a little, tight-budgeted arthouse flick, called Mission: Impossible 2. It was quite good, but, for God's sake, why didn't they employ actors we had heard of. Pretty camp fight scenes, and, coupled with the hilarious villany, I was rolling on the jailhouse floor.
The time in the cells gave some impressive sleep, though. I did fit in a cracker of a dream, of which I hope you'll partake. Holy Grail...
They let me out, but on one condition - a public flogging in the Red Square. I agreed to their conditions. A crowd gathered around me and the director of the KGB. He said a few words in Russian, I slapped his face with a leather glove, and everyone cheered. Ten minutes later, I was on an RAF flight, bound for Leuchars, where I could take in some of the Open at St. Andrews, before returning home to my warm bed.