Friends and readers.
The ongoing misadventures of our new friends in the North the Hotbox Three have proved quite a hit with our wide and growing readership, and so we continue with their latest bumblings.
The unofficial leader of the group is hard to determine but since the Hotbox in theory belongs to Dopey, it’s therefore by default that he is the group leader and official spokesperson on the issues of the day. Deadloss and hopeless are permanent guests or is it pests and are skilled in the art of mooching, something that is a rite of passage for the Hotbox Three. So the put upon parent rarely gets a breath between meals and ass wiping before it starts all over again.
Dopey has a permanent memory block when it comes to cleaning up after him while the other two geniuses would live in shit up to their knees before they tidied up. But in their favour each has a skill that matches their ability. As we have said Dopey has a permanent memory block over anything resembling cleaning, while hopeless just has a glazed eye look which lets him off the hook when it comes to virtually,anything, then again his world is in the third dimension somewhere. Deadloss by comparison seems to drift in and out of mainstream thinking which is handy as he can stop mid sentence and forget the last word he said, but then again you could say that about all three.
So our intrepid three whose pink elephant world is supplemented by the occasional intake of fresh air just to remind themselves whether it’s day or night, wouldn’t make much of a difference to them but it’s a talking point. Our friends are so slow on the uptake they must have been Scotmid trained, or certainly by the chap with marmalade on his chin and strange stains on his shirt. They would make excellent Scotmid employees, slow, thinking of other things and visible by their absence.
The put upon parent is philosophical about the shenanigans of the Hotbox three and dons the shield of invincibility with mask and gloves when cleaning up after them, something that the Hotbox three would just scream in horror if they had to as much as pick up a fag paper. Recently our free thinking three got themselves a carryout, now dear friends this is an achievement in itself as we have it on authority but as yet unconfirmed they actually paid for it themselves and even more astonishing they went for it themselves, it needed the three of them to decide who was going to carry what and how they should get to the carryout place, whether by bus, taxi or heavens forbid walk even though the place was only a few hundred yards away, decisions, decisions.
We are reliably informed by a source close to the three musketeers, surprise is anyone would want to get close to them but nevertheless that’s the case, that a foreign body was milling around in the lovely shiney container, enjoying what almost resembled a sauce, in fact we are informed that the foreign body had just completed it’s 15th length of the container doing the breaststroke. Our six legged friend provided no fear for our intrepid three who rather than use up energy more usefully employed, they decided after a lengthy pause for the single thought that they had to eat round the spider who by this time had grown an extra leg or two, something we think was due to the strange brew that resembled a sauce.
Our delicate palated three took no prisoners and got stuck in 8 legged growing spider and all. The one suspicion that aroused their normally dead from the neck up demeanor was, who ate the extra fried prawn ball. Nobody owned up, the put upon parent was nowhere to be seen so they could not be accused, there was no other hangers on around abusing the hospitality, so our Hotbox three were puzzled not for the first or last time in their lives. Dopey was first up with a gem of wisdom, ”some fucker nicked it on the way home” A silence and a murmur of don’t think so. Deadloss came up with his theory, useless must have sold it on the way back. Again a silence fell over the now badly smelling Hotbox, but Dopey thought that this theory might have some merit, but quickly dismissed it as it required more thought so that ruled that theory out.
Useless by this time had sneakily polished off most of this delightful Chinese end of the night offerings, and was keenly eyeing up the spider who by now had miraculously grown yet another leg. Useless, plastic fork at the ready was poised over the now 9 legged spider ready to strike and polish off a nice somewhat dodgy carry out which he had because of his pleading of having forgotten his wallet got for bugger all. Both Deadloss and Dopey unaware of what useless was up to decided that one of them must have eaten it without knowing it, sounds plausible.
Useless struck but missed our now 10 legged friend going straight through the shiney container and into his leg, ouch, but Deadloss showed no mercy and told him that it served him right for eating the extra fried prawn ball without telling anyone, Dopey concurred or just nodded his head as the dispute was above his head. Strange thing though, as the evening drew to a close and the curtain came down on another nights mooching, Useless started to feel a little light headed, nothing you might think unusual in that, but both Dopey and Deadloss who it must be said were free of any Amsterdam tobacco noticed that Useless was climbing up the inside wall of the Hotbox with remarkable ease, and in fact was clinging to the roof of the Hotbox with gay abandon.
No-one knows what actually happened except Dopey and Deadloss and both of these dandy’s would forget their names unless someone reminded them, but Useless was last seen flying between buildings as he looked for another place to doss, and the missing fried prawn ball was still nowhere to be seen.