The first rays of sunshine cast a dappled hew and found me up at the crack of dawn, I silently and swiftly got dressed and kissed Dawn gently on the cheek She was the killick WREN in the COMCEN at Steamer Point. With practised skill I clambered noisily out of the window into the yard and roused my faithful Rita. In no time at all we were swiftly traversing the desert sands, I was on my way to a small settlement to have it out with a brigand by the name of Mustapha Slash You can guess how he came by that name can't you?......yes his legendry skill with an Arab scimitar, well he'd picked on the wrong one this time

Around lunch time I drew up at an Oasis, time for some scran I settled Rita down and set about lighting my primus, there was an irritating desert wind called a shamal blowing up and try as I might, the bloody stove wouldn't light. With a flash of inspiration and age old desert craft, I set the stove up behind Rita. Her ample bulk would provide the perfect wind break. How prophetic those words would be.......with a primus stove going full belt heating up a full saucepan of sausages and beans Rita let out a horrendous bottom burp ! I caught the full back draft of flames as it roared from her nether regions across the stove. I staggered around Arab robes on fire, face blackened and hair and eyebrows singed. Luckily there was water nearby, burnt, semi clad and starving hungry I clambered aboard Rita and set off for the settlement, my nemesis good old Slash would pay dearly for this.

I tethered Rita in the main street, what am I saying! it was the only street, a lady's voice came from the gloom of an alleyway,  Master! Master! ......Well...I blushed and Rita farted " I'm not a Jaunty, I stammered I haven't even passed for RPO  No, effendi... Master is our traditional greeting, came the voice from the alleyway, you'll never make Joss as long as your ass points South! I stomped into the alley, stood there was a toothless crone, she had the huge Arab nose complete with a large wart. If the price is cheap enough I'll have a short time I proferred, no Master! ! I wish to warn you that Mustapha Slash is hiding in the doorway three doors down she said, Cheers me dear! says I. The Crone put out the palm of her hand....I slapped my appendage in it and told her she wouldn't get much for a hand job, and muttering curses she stormed off...the stuck up cow !

Walking down the street in the middle of the road ( that's Welsh) I came level with the doorway, I challenge you to a fair fight Slash! you son of a cur! I yelled That did the trick...out he came scimitar spinning in his two hands like the blade on a helicopter. It was important that I beat him fairly, avoiding loss of face is crucial in these parts, but then I thought bugger that! So I slapped the magazine into my Lanchester machine gun even I couldn't miss with one of these mothers! Thirty odd rounds later and my mission was accomplished, honour was restored, the name of Crown Cloak would resound through the coffee shops and bazaars this very day.

At breakneck speed Rita and I loped back to Crater city, I was as dry as a yak drover's biscuit tin! The place I was heading for was the filthiest bar in the Middle East, full of the dregs of the earth, real scumbags everyone of them, still I was lucky to get in I had been barred for three months. As usual it was a simple misunderstanding, an Arab called Abdul had nudged me and said do you want a fight? I gave him a head but straight away smash! no messing! in my parts that’s called a Cardiff kiss, he went down blood gushing from his hook nose, I'd broken it for sure. Turned out he had said do you want a pint? why do they play the music so bloody loud ? ? I am quite prepared to let bygones be bygones, he can buy me a pint if he likes .

I bedded Rita down outside and sauntered in, two Legionaires were fighting by the piano, a belly dancer was wobbling away on a podium, I think she had taken the term belly dancer too literally she was about sixteen stone, her arse looked like the stern off the Vanguard
The owner looked up and nodded, I was back in! All was well in the world, tomorrow I would be at the market, it seems that a melon seller was having melons nicked from his stall, all he knew was that it was Arab women doing it and they always pinched two at a time...mmmmm but how were they walking away with them? I liked the market a lot, some of those Arab women leaving the market had massive knockers !

My daydreaming was interrupted swiftly oh no! Abdul and his three mates had entered and he wasn't pleased to see me, I can't stand people who bear a grudge, I never forgive them or forget either. Oh rollocks! they were armed to the teeth, the things that you see when you haven't got your Lanchester with you, somehow tee shirt ( thousand miler) shorts and flip flops wasn't going to cut it With a mighty crash the double doors to the bar crashed in, it was Rita, with her powerful back legs she had smashed in the doors, that would be another three month ban no doubt, but she meant well Rita rampaged through the bar biting and kicking seven bells of sh*t out of everyone well except me, Abdul and his mates, as they were standing so close to me she assumed that they weren't hostile