I WAS A TEENAGER LIVING AT HOME with my parents in Slade Green, Erith. I was upset with my parents and decided to leave home. I took my blue crotcheted blanket and walked to the end of Slade Green Road where there was a large playing field. I crawled through a hole in the wire fence and slept rough in a bush that night.
My daughters appeared with one of their friends. They stole my first aid training manikins and threw them in the bushes. I was very upset and told them to help me look for my manikins. They agreed, but it became apparent they weren’t trying very hard when I found my baby manikins buried in the mud under a tree with their heads very clearly visible.
I found myself living in a flat that my sister and her husband used to live in. It was above a picture framing shop my dad operated in Retford, Nottinghamshire. One of the rooms was haunted. When I stood in the corner of the room I felt cold and a shiver went up my spine. I looked around the room and noticed that a wooden bureau kept changing from one side of the room to the other when I tried to look at it. I started to build some bookshelves.
Karl, a Jehovah’s Witness elder in my last congregation, came over to see me. He was surprised that Retford Congregation had not reinstated me since I had been disfellowshipped for 7 months. I told him that even though I was being shunned, I was still allowed to preach from door to door. Three very large spiders came through an air vent in the wall. Karl stamped on two of them. The third one was massive. It was the size of a dinner plate and very hairy! Karl and I made a flamethrower out of an aerosol can and tried to burn it. It let out a loud screech and ran through a hole in the wall into the adjoining living room. Karl and I went into the living room and Karl stamped the spider to death with his boot.
Looking out of the window I could see Retford town centre below. I went downstairs and started to build a wood-panelled front for the shop. Flying above me was Claypole, the ghost from Rentaghost, except it wasn’t Claypole, it was Hubert Davenport. I built a flying platform powered by a hosepipe and water jets. I got on the platform and flew high above the town centre. I popped a cork from a bottle of champagne and the cork fell to the ground. A pigeon picked up the cork. I went down and got the cork back from the pigeon.
There was a young Indian man with me. I asked him to go and buy kebabs for everyone. He was gone for over an hour and a half so I went looking for him. I found him waiting to be served on a market stall. The owners of the stall were filling out lots of health and safety forms. I was hungry and impatient so I told the Indian man to follow me. We walked round to a kebab shop on Grove Street. We entered and I noticed there was blood spattered everywhere.
My sister arranged a quiz in a rural village near Retford called Cottam. I was sat in a car with some old friends, Geof, Julie, and Mel. The quiz was boring. The questions were nonsensical. I refused to play. Instead, I popped the bonnet of the car and started to mess around with the engine. Then I went for a fly across a field full of horses. Trigger, from Only Fools and Horses, was in a nearby pub. He was waiting for me to phone him so he could join in the quiz from his location, but I forgot to call him.
I started to fly home, but then I found myself sitting in a car being pushed by my dad. He told me I had to stay in the car, but I got out and started walking. He began criticising me for being disfellowshipped. I told him I didn’t believe Jehovah’s Witnesses anymore and then started to teach someone how to play the guitar.