Life Goes On

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I, Michael Cullen, King Bastard the First, dodged the traffic like a London pigeon in its prime. Some got caught, but only the old ones, or the sick. Old ones shouldn’t try to dodge the motors. Sick ones should stay at home.

Moggerhanger threatened to kill me. I believed he would like to. No matter how much of a bastard I was, there were always bigger bastards in the world. Moggerhanger was a rich bastard (he still is), which made him more effective than a poor bastard like me. He was also an older bastard, and we know what that means.

Come and get me. What else could I say? Bravado cost nothing, and he’d have to catch me. Maybe he’d have a fatal accident, though no doubt it was a condition of his will that the beneficiaries would have to deal with me before laying their maulers on the cash. He had many paid helpers, which was why I dodged the traffic like a pigeon. I ran across the light-on-green at Oxford Street. That was very close indeed. I didn’t know his henchmen were driving buses.

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