By Popular Demand

Leaving my vast Gothic Pile and grounds to wander briefly in the night air among the common herd, I was startled to hear my name called by a mere mortal in the chip shop. His little round face, pink in the unforgiving fluorescent lighting, beamed at me in recognition. His crooked smile and sunken dark eyes creased with joy. The merciless lighting glinting off the bare patches of scalp where his hair was receding, almost made me feel sorry for him. But only almost!

“What do you seek of the Thanet Reaper?” I enquired.

“You have long held the moral high ground hereabouts” he fawned.

“Yes, get on with it”

“You alone can protect the lowly from the patronising bullshit that’s threatening to bury us all under the weight of its own self-righteousness”

“Bloody hell! I exclaimed. “For a mere mortal you are almost educated.”

Falling to his knees amid a startled group waiting for battered sausages, he continued, almost prophetically:

“Unpleasant treatment will be metered out to you O mighty Reaper for defending the downtrodden and underestimated people of Thanet. But you will be in a select group of those in Thanet that will stand up for what is right.”

“Stand up mere mortal. Your plea has been heard and the Thanet Reaper will act. Being Death is a bit predictable sometimes, so, as a hobby I will do as you request. I will take my scythe to the mound of bullshit and chuck it at all those who insult the intelligence of my minions”

Tears of joy streaked his little round face. The Staff and the battered sausage queue, overcome with awe, fell to their knees too. The fluorescent light flickered eerily. An omen perhaps?