Walking towards the Bookshop, my hands began to get a little sweaty. I hadnt been out among the people for some time now and with a little luck I would be able to find the Book without talking to any of them.
Best Sellers, New Releases, Irish Fiction, Cookery,
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Shot down every time.
I knew the cover.
I knew what I was looking for.
It had to be here.
I had to avoid the people. I circled around and had another sweep , of what I thought were, all the relevant categories.
No sign of it. I began to worry. Was this another one of my things. Was this real. Was I really supposed to be looking for this book. It was real. Hell even Monkey Balls had read it, and he assured us it was funny. OK this took too much effort, I wasnt leaving empty handed. I accosted one of the gangly young attendants.
Excuse me, I'm er, Im looking for a book now see, ah, the authors name is Twenty Major. Its an internet handle type...
Thats a strange name,
huh! Yeah. But can you search..
Hang on.. Enters Major Twenty in the author search bar. One answer returns John Major. Tries major 20. same result. tries major. same result. I try to suggest that major isnt a last name that its all one title. he types major 20. major twenty . major
0. 0. 0.
If its not here, then its not in any of easons warehouses, you crazy looking man....
hey whats wrong with your hands. the sweat is drippping off them...
But monkey balls.. he said easons Im sure of it. I mean Monkey is real isnt he.. this is all real..
OK thanks never mind. If anybody asks I was just fooling around. OK.
I mean a book written by a pack of cigarettes, WHAT, have you been smoking..