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Mr Crisp

There is a man about town whom I do not yet know.
We have never been introduced nor have we ever had a conversation. I don’t recall ever saying hello or even nodding politely in his direction, I find this strange because I see him every single time I leave the house or drive up the high street. I must confess I am not much of a party animal and I don’t have many hobbies, so the only time I really venture out of my house is either to go to work or to visit one of 3 local shops. It does not matter which shop I choose to go to at any particular time, which ever one I go to he will be there. I know very little about this man apart from he only has one set of clothes and has a great big, grey fisherman’s beard, the type I would grow If only my wife would let me. Oh, did I mention that he LOVES crisps? Cheese and onion are his favourite, followed closely by salt and vinegar and always ‘Walkers’ When you see him he will either be standing outside the newsagent or express store eating crisps or sitting on the bench out side the supermarket… eating crisps. If he is not outside a shop, you can bet your life he will be on an in between journey to or from one.

Now I love crisps. Crisps are my most favourite thing in the world, then my wife and kids, family, dogs, salami and so on. Now I reckon I would stand in good stead to beat this guy in a no holds bared crisp eating contest but Not only is it awkward to challenge someone you don’t know to such a duel, I would probably put on 3 stone in weight and would have to buy loads more trousers to fit. Mr Crisp is skinny, no matter how many crisps he eats he stays the same weight and wears the same trousers held up by a thin brown belt and that’s just not fair. People refer to Mr Crisp as ‘the tramp man’ but rumour has it he lives in town in a big house and isn’t short of a few quid. This could be speculation of course, he could just be a tramp. Saying that, he does buy an awful lot of crisps and they are always ‘Walkers’ not some supermarket own brand like we poor folk buy.

I wonder what his house actually does look like? Going on his appearance, I would say it’s pretty run down and shabby, Rotten window frames, leaky guttering and an overgrown lawn littered with crisp packets…. A cellar full of decapitated dolls and eyeless pictures of the queen with ‘SLUT’ graffitied across them. Oh, so this is how rumours start is it? The truth is, I have no idea what Mr Crisps house looks like. As far as I know its a mansion with turrets and flags and of course a drawbridge, because any house with turrets and flags would look ridiculous without a drawbridge. But I do wonder how this man winded up this way, in fact I have pondered on it quite a lot. I imagine him 20 years ago, a hardened war machine who once ate Rambo for breakfast, shit him out and then pissed on him whilst bad mouthing his mum. ‘After the army  a soldier he remained, infiltrating enemy camps single handedly, snapping necks with a flex of his pecs. Travelling alone around the globe, his only comforter, his trusty blade stained with blood from the men he had slayed. Expolsions and gunfire, pain and fear, screams and tears, living on the edge of life and death. His brain sparking a thousand times faster than yours or mine, he was a machine underneath, he won every time. Then one day he retired and moved into town, no sign of this monster now, accept a small rugged frown. No longer at war his brain sparking slower, unable to adjust, no one he can trust, his blade now unused and covered in rust. An internal yearning for the life he once knew, no one left to challenge him, not even a few. So he feeds this monster to keep it at bay, crisps crisps crisps, every day.’

I cant really see the face behind the beard. perhaps he isn’t the war going type. Perhaps he was a farmer who fell desperately in love with his animal feed supplier. Evon her name was, she had long red hair and massive tits but after many years of flirtatious banter and sexual inuendos she broke his heart when she slept with his Adrian his farm hand. After this, Mr crisp sold his farm and vowed to never eat another mouthful of food… accept crisps, because he loved crisps.    

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