Grumpy Auld Men

A blast of Yuletide turbo fiction!

Here's a little festive interlude for Theo Possible.

Grumpy Auld Men 

The village hall finally felt toasty. 

It had taken a while, but the four portable gas heaters on full blast had beaten back the bitter cold from the creaky wooden interior. Not very eco-friendly, thought Vera, but preferable to one of the senior citizens pegging it at the card table. One day, they would raise enough money and build a proper village hall, with bricks and double glazing and everything. 

Vera Mallard sighed wistfully at the dusty 'new village hall fund' totaliser which was hung on the wall.  They'd been raising money for as long as she could remember and they still barely had a tenth of what was needed. She was sure that they would get there eventually. She just doubted that she would be around to see it, what with her already two years shy of the allotted threescore years and ten. 

The hall was gradually filling with people. Shivering, snow-sprinkled folk queued at the door, wishing each other a Merry Christmas and handing over their entry fee to Jackie, the treasurer, sat at a rickety trestle table. Jackie dropped the money in the cash box and handed back their strip of complementary raffle tickets.

Vera took off her glasses and wiped the condensation from the lenses with her woolly-gloved hands. The new prescription was like the bottom of a milk bottle, but she was now blind as a bat without them.  She pushed the glasses back on her nose and blinked. 

Then she spotted him. 

"Coo-ee!" Vera called, waving to the tall, hooded figure in the white parka, waiting patiently in the queue. Mrs Reeder was in front, slowly counting out her coppers into Jackie's outstretched hand.  

"Theo!" yelled Vera. 

Theo Possible snapped out of his penny-watching trance, spotted Vera waving at him and beamed. 

Vera scuttled forward and looped her arm around Theo's. "Jack!" she bellowed at the treasurer, "This one's with me, alright?" Jackie nodded and waved them through. 

"Vera," muttered Theo, "It's only a couple of quid. I can pay, you know." 

"Oh, we'll sort it out later," Vera blustered. "I haven't seen you in ages!" 

"I know, I know," said Theo apologetically. "I've had a lot on." 

"You never made it to the summer fete or bonfire night," Vera scolded him.  

"But, you know I'd never miss the Christmas whist drive in a million years," said Theo, holding up the white plastic carrier bag in his hand. "I got a couple of bottles of that sherry you like. I thought you could maybe put one in the raffle?" 

"Oh, bless you, Theo," said Vera. "You're so thoughtful." 

Theo pulled back his hood and unzipped his parka. "I like what you've done to your hair, Vee," he said. "Very swish." 

Vera blushed, gently titivating her new do. Her hairdresser, Tracy had talked her into this new colour and bob. Theo was the first to comment on it, as Vera had only just removed her head scarf. "You don't think it’s a bit..?" she whispered. 

"Oh, it really suits you," remarked Theo. "The cut shows off your bone structure and colour complements your eyes perfectly." 

"Charmer," Vera chuckled. She looked into Theo's sparkling eyes. Despite the crow's feet, his chestnut skin glowed with vitality and his silver-white goatee beard framed a warm, sincere smile. Time was being much kinder to him than her, she thought. 

"I've got a surprise for you," said Vera with a conspiratorial, sing-song lilt. Theo raised an intrigued eyebrow. She ushered him towards their usual card table, in the far corner of the hall. "Burt's not here, I'm afraid," she explained. "His grandson is getting married in Australia. They paid for his flights over there, hotels and everything."  

"Lucky Burt," Theo remarked. "So, we're short of a player?" 

"That's the surprise!" Vera announced.  

They arrived at their table. Maude was sat in her usual seat, in a tartan cardigan and matching bobble-hat. She was chatting to a man, perched opposite, in the place Burt usually occupied. 

"Surprise!" whooped Vera. "Look who it is, Theo!" 

The man with Maude looked up with sharp, predatory eyes.  

He was dressed in smart black jacket and a white shirt. His hair was pale grey and his skin was blanched. All the lines on his face seemed to converge to a furious point in the space between his dagger-like eyebrows. 

"Theo Possible," the man proclaimed in a Scottish brogue. An ironic smirk dented his thin lips. "Long time no see, Theo! Merry Christmas!" 

"Long time no see, Theo! Merry Christmas!"

Possible cleared his throat. 

"Indeed," he said, flatly. "Merry Christmas. You were the very last person I expected to see here. How are you, Maude?" 

"As well as can be expected, Theo," mumbled Maude. "I was just telling your friend..." 

"Yes!" the man cut in, "Maude was just explaining about all her many ailments. Maude has so many, many ailments. People do tend tell you all about their aches and pains when you mention that you're a doctor! I should keep my mouth shut, shouldn't I? Poor old Maude! I was about to suggest that I put her out of her misery, just as you two walked up!" 

He laughed, a short, theatrical cackle and Vera and Maude joined in. Theo smiled politely. 

"Well, aren't you going to sit down?" asked the Doctor. 

"Theo, I'm going to hang up my coat, do you want me to take yours?" asked Vera 

Theo thanked her, slipped out of his parka and handed it over. Vera sent Maude to fetch some sherry glasses and mince pies. Theo took a seat. 

"How did you know I was here?" asked Possible. 

"I didn't," said the Doctor. "I detected a temporal disturbance and popped in here to see if anyone had noticed anything. I got chatting to Vera, she mentioned your name and here we are. What are you doing here anyway?" 

Theo shrugged, "I'm a regular." 

"Doesn't seem like your sort of place," the Doctor sneered.  

"You don't know anything about me," Theo replied. 

"I know enough," warned the Doctor, an accusatory glint to his eye. "You're a sort of cheap, tribute act, aren't you? A flash wannabe dabbling in things he barely understands." 

"Don't worry, Doctor," Theo reassured him. "I represent no threat to your brand whatsoever. I'd find it all bit too... restrictive for me, if I'm honest." 

The Doctor snorted, "And what's that supposed to mean?" 

"Don't get me wrong, I can see how you might get a little envious," Theo went on, "But, I'm on a completely different sort of tip from you. I mean, you go looking for trouble, don't you? You 'detected a temporal disturbance' and you went to see who needed to be slapped down." 

"I went to check if there was any danger!" the Doctor snapped. 

"And you were disappointed to find it was only some friends meeting for a game of cards and a sherry," Theo added. "Now, because you deem me to be in the 'wrong' section of space and time, you're trying to provoke me." 

"I don't need to provoke you," the Doctor murmured. "I can shut you down anytime I like." 

Maude returned carrying a tray with a plate of mince pies and four mismatched glasses. "Here we are," she trilled. "Theo, would you take this from me? I need both hands free to sit down!" 

Theo sprung to his feet and set down the tray, then helped Maude back to her seat. Then, he retrieved one of the bottles of sherry from his carrier bag and began to pour a measure into each glass. 

"Not for me," said the Doctor, "I'm not staying." 

"That's a shame," Theo lied. 

"What was that?" asked Vera, returning from the cloakroom. "You're not leaving, are you?" 

"He's a doctor, Vee," Theo reminded her. "He's always on call. Bye, then..." 

"But, we need four for whist," Vera insisted. 

The Doctor mused. A mischievous twitch danced across his face.  

Theo Possible ground his teeth imperceptivity. 

"Oh, what the hell!" the Doctor exclaimed at last. "What's a gory night shift at A&E at its busiest time of year when weighed against a couple of hands of whist, eh? Make my sherry a large one, Theo, me old mate. It is Christmas, after all!" 

Theo Possible poured a sherry large enough to choke a Time Lord. 

Vera sat and shuffled the cards as Maude munched a mince pie. "So, how do you two know each other?" Vera asked her gentlemen guests and she dealt out the cards. 

"We... studied together," said Theo. 

"You studied medicine, Theo?" said Vera, surprised. 

"No, no, no... Martial Arts," Theo explained. The Doctor shot Theo a dangerous glance as he picked up his cards and began sorting them into suits. 

"Oh, like an evening class?" asked Vera. 

"Sort of," said Theo. 

"We started doing Tai Chi, didn't we Maude?" said Vera. "They did classes here, in the hall, during the summer. They stopped when it got too cold. Might start again when the weather picks up." 

Maude nodded, "They said it would help my arthritis. I suppose it did a bit." 

"Last time I saw your name," said the Doctor to Theo, "Was on an flyposter on a wall in a pub on Hitchemus. I would have dropped in to see you then, but the date had already come and gone." 

"That doesn't usually prevent you, surely?" said Theo. 

"That was how we first met Theo," said Vera. "He played the records at our silver wedding anniversary. Me and my Reg. He was brilliant! He knew exactly the right records to play. All the songs you knew, even ones you'd completely forgotten about, songs you'd never heard before but were perfect for the mood." 

"I've retired now, Doctor," Theo emphasised. "All that travelling, keeping all those platter's spinning. It was getting too much like hard work." 

The Doctor pursed his lips. Vera turned the last card. Clubs were trumps. 

Hands were played. Tricks were won. Sherry was drunk. 

Eventually, Maude called for a short interlude whilst she went outside for a cigarette. The players agreed and Theo topped up their glasses while they waited. 

"Are you alright, Theo?" asked Vera. "You seem out of sorts this evening." 

"Me?" said Theo. "No, I'm fine." 

"I suspect that might be due to my presence, Vera," the Doctor admitted.  

"I suspect that you might be over-estimating your significance, Doctor," Theo chided. "That's not like you at all, is it? Oh, wait..." 

"Theo thinks he has the monopoly when it comes to gate-crashing," the Doctor added. 

"Where as you, Doctor, think you have the monopoly on everything," snapped Possible. 

"Now, boys!" Vera admonished them. "We've all had a sherry. Let's not fall out. Whatever this is about, now is not the time. It's Christmas!" 

Theo took and deep breath and nodded. The Doctor looked unrepentant. He finished his sherry and stood up to leave. 

"Oh, don't go! Not like this!" Vera pleaded. 

"I think It's for the best, Vera," said the Doctor. "It was very nice meeting you. Theo, stay out of trouble, won't you?" 

Possible furrowed his brow, "Take care, Doctor," he advised. "Try not to wipe out any civilizations on you way out, won't you?" 

The Doctor departed, leaving a withering look so profound that his eyebrows seemed to remain, Cheshire catlike, long after he left the hall. 

After a moment, Theo apologised. "I'm really sorry, Vera," he said, scratching his head sheepishly. "That bloke always brings out the worst in me." 

Vera laughed, "I've seen a whole other side of you this evening, Theo. What on earth did you two fall out about?" 

"It's a long story," Theo sighed. "He's from a very privileged background and I was very... militant in my youth." 

"So, you've mellowed with age, have you?" Vera wondered. 

Possible quietly pondered this as he held up his glass for a toast.  

"Merry Christmas, Vera," he said. Vera lifted her glass and clinked it with his. 

"And goodwill to all men?" she added. 

"I suppose," chuckled Possible, taking a rueful sip of his sherry.

Possibliities

Entirely Possible is back. Here's the trailer



It will update sporadically. There's a page going up later today and another later in the week. I'm just going to post them as I complete them.

As I have said previously, the revised plan is that it will now be a complete, three chapter tale. Download chapter one as a .cbz file here, and we're about a third of the way through chapter two, online here.

The third and final chapter will come after all that, funnily enough.

Blakey, the Ticket Inspector

We return to the story just as things are about to kick off between an immovable object and an unstoppable force.

Blakey, the robot jobsworth is demanding to see the ticket of the weaponized sales-pitch known as the Junk Mail Messiah.

The Junk Mail Messiah

Things can only end badly, which is why Theo and Queenie are leaving them to it and running away from the pair of them as fast as they can.

Who will win?

Read on. Find out.


In other news, the big project is still in full swing. All is on schedule and more will be divulged as soon I am able to do so.

In the meantime, read Entirely Possible. Download chapter one to your mobile device - seriously, it was designed to be read on a phone, ideally - bluetooth it to everyone you know and everyone you don't.

Oh, and keep an eye out for the Possible merchandise.
That's on its way soon too.

"This is a compelling offer!"

The Fridging of Tina Mcintyre

I've decided to step into the breech.
Paul Magrs's Coronation Street blog, Think On, Lady, is on hiatus. It seems that Paul hasn't been enjoying the show enough recently to bring himself to write about it. I know the feeling. I've had a lot of issues with what's been happening in Weatherfield of late.

There's been a couple of "edgey" storylines running recently that have been equal parts 'preposterous' and 'icky'. Now, I love a bit of 'preposterous', me, but can take or leave 'icky'. It depends on the how and the why. What really is beginning to grate with me is what finally rendered 'Stenders unwatchable about a decade ago - it's when characters do things because the script demands them to do it, not because it is how the character would normally behave.

Tina, yesterday

Tina McIntyre is no more. The events leading up to this tragedy have been arduous, irritating and, most of the time, not in any way convincing.

Tina had been played by Michelle Keegan since 2008 and for the majority of that time, the character was no push-over. She was sharp, often fond of a slanging match and fiercely loyal to her friends. Exactly the sort of young, working-class woman you would expect to find living on Coronation Street at any time between 1960 and the present.

That is until recently.
In the run-up to Keegan's departure from the series, Tina had been transformed into a dopey, clingy, bunny-boiler in order to suit the requirements of a particular storyline "Event". Yeah, I know, girls do strange things when they fall for the wrong sort of boy. But, Tina fell for the middle-aged, alcoholic bigamist; Peter Barlow. For some reason.

The Tina/Peter affair was a hard-sell from the outset. Not only did we have to accept Tina's sudden bout of stupidity, but also a corresponding bout of dumb inflicting Peter's wife.
Carla Barlow (nee, Conner), played by Alison King, is a ruthless business woman, nobody's fool and fully aware of her husband's extensive history of weakness. None of these details mattered, however. An 'Event' was scheduled. It was in the script. Carla had to act just as dumb as Tina. Nothing could prevent the 'Event'.

All of this might have been saved, if, at the end of all the duplicity, we had a Tina/Carla payoff. If both characters returned to their senses and we got Keegan and King confrontation, it might just have all been worth it. They could have traded insults and punches. They could have spat home truths as their blinkers fell and personalities realigned.

Then, Tina could have black-cabbed herself away from the emotional devastation and, with a bit of luck, achieved Sarah Lancashire Velocity and escaped the gravitational pull of the Street forever.

Instead, they fridged Tina.

"Who drunk all the... oh.."

"Fridging", for those unfamiliar with the term, is a trope first identified by the comic book writer, Gail Simone. It refers to an infamous issue of Green Lantern (Vol.3 #54) by Ron Marz, Darryl Banks & Romeo Tanghal, published in 1994. In this issue, incumbent Green Lantern, Kyle Raynor, comes home to find his girlfriend, Alex DeWitt, dead and stuffed in the refrigerator; murdered by the super-villain, Major Force.

Identifying the frequency of female comic book characters being murdered, depowered, cut-up, raped or otherwise abused, seemingly for the sole reason of motivating a male protagonist; Simone founded the website, Women In Refrigerators in order to discuss the motif.

And so, Tina fell, like Wile E Coyote, from a balcony which her flat never previously had, onto the cobbles far below. But, who pushed her? Was it Peter or was it Carla?

Neither! It was Carla's brother, Rob! Didn't see that twist coming, did you? Probably because it made no sense whatsoever, but hey! Now, we've got Rob Raskolnikov-ing his way up and down the ginnel for months on end to look forward to! Won't that be exciting? Won't it!?

It's pretty creepy how many these unconvincing affairs have ended with the much-younger, female adulterer paying with her life. Molly Dobbs had a tram dropped on her head, Sunita Alahan was incinerated in the local boozer. I understand that on Albert Square, Lucy Beale is now pushing up daisies after some skin-crawling dalliance with her best friend's dad.

It's a shame that Coronation Street has got this departure of a major character so drastically wrong. Especially when the other recent departure of a major character, Hayley Cropper, was so perfectly right. The contrast between the two scenarios is stark. In the events leading up to Hayley's death, all the characters behaved in a way true to what we already knew about said characters. Character was the motor of the story. The complete opposite is true in the lead up to Tina's death.
Character went out the window long before Ms Mcintyre did.

Roy & Hayley - Proper Corrie

At best we missed out on the Keegan/King face-off that might have saved the story. At worst we've added a new name to the list of the fridged and for a show like Coronation Street, with its USP since the start being the home to a pantheon of iconic female roles; that's a crying shame.

Anyway, this is Kate Tempest.

A Consideration of Sherlock Holmes

Here is the finished cover for the new City of The Saved anthology; Tales of the Great Detectives. It is edited by the City's creator and curator, Philip Purser-Hallard and written by cavalcade of talented contributors; Stephen Marley, Liz Evershed, Andrew Hickey, Kelly Hale, Chantelle Messier and Jess Faraday.

This is the Obverse's third short story collection, set in the City and the although the cover is a departure from the previous two, we were keen to keep a semblance of continuity. So, we limited the colour palette to that of the previous covers. This restriction led to some choices that probably wouldn't have otherwise been made. I am pretty happy with the result.

I have also done a couple of other little bits of illustration work for Phil recently. He has his Devices Trilogy trilogy about to be published by Snow Books, the first of which, The Pendragon Protocol is out in July. He's added a ton of background on the website to whet your appetite, including a page on the Heraldry of respective characters, to which I contributed a couple of logos. Have a look.

Other than that, I have been grafting down the word mines for the Great Undertaking (more on that as soon as I am able to blab) and been thinking about what to do about Entirely Possible.

The upshot is, Entirely Possible is coming back!

The updates will be less frequent than before and probably more sporadic. However, there is an endgame in mind. It will be a complete... thing. There will be three acts - I left it dangling a little way into the second - that tell a complete tale: The inaugural adventure of Possible & Tilbury.

So, three digital comic files. The first can be downloaded here. The webcomic will update soon.

Keep 'em peeled!

Get Your Ass to Mars

I am now at liberty to break radio silence about The Calamari-Men of Mare Cimmerium.

This is my new short story contribution to the 2014 Iris Wildthyme anthology, Iris Wildthyme of Mars.
The book is edited by Phillip Purser-Hallard and his blog is now displaying the collection's blurb and the full line-up of authors here.

It's been great to have the chance to play with Iris again. Things are slightly different this time around. For starters, Iris herself is in a different incarnation (the Jane Fonda-y/Barbarella-esque version from the Doctor Who novel, The Blue Angel to be precise).
Also, my story will have some accompanying illustrations, which I have just completed. It's been fun to do, but was also slightly intimidating when I saw Paul Hanley's amazing wrap-around book cover.

Paul Hanley's cover for Iris Wildthyme of Mars

The anthology will be up for pre-order on the Obverse website any day now, so keep an eye out.

In other news, check out the mixes page for A Deconstructed Frankie Knuckles Sandwich - a new mix I have dedicated to memory of the Godfather of House.

Right, the decks are cleared. It is time to begin the Great Undertaking.

Stand by...