Prologue

Prologue

I am telling you this story about the three best mates that were some dumbest, stupidest, the craziest people have ever met. They were solids, like solid shit not runny shit and the best friends you could wish for, The band of brothers you might say. They had names, Weasel Cockroach, Skidmarks and Halfbake.

This story won’t win any literary award or the book of the year. It’s written in plain word’s no high highfalutin words that no one understands just easy read in simple words. With no flower words.

When a child is brought into this world, they only have blank pages in their brain. In the real world it gets written on and shaped on, By parent siblings. Schools surrounded by friends. Idiots, bullies, and scholars. Destined to shape their lives for the future until they depart. Well, our brains certainly got really messed up.

Nobody could have dreamed up in their wildest dreams. This was our biggest screw up in my life, When we outsmarted the smartest people in the world.

It happened to masses of rank and file listening to their Radio or TV at 10 pm 1980s heard a News flash. “Authorities report a crashed UFO in a field close to Pike Junction. This is a message to everyone to avoid this area.” 

What a stupid announcement. The UFO was so close, this was a once in a lifetime event. Every mode of transport hit the road for pike junction, North  south, East and west there were thirty miles of dense Traffic Jams.

How our pirate radio ship called “Wet Pussy” was caught in a vicious howling storm, winds with teen foot swells, the Storm was violent on the aging ship. We were springing leaks all over the  inner hull. May Day went out S.O.S. and who’s going out to rescue a pirate ship called Wet Pussy.

We were in panic stations again. He was dying. We packed our bags and flew off to Sydney, Australia.
He told us and all his friends that he didn’t have long on god’s little green earth. We all packed our bags. Then we made a hasty departure to be with him. In his final throes of his life. We gathered around his bedside. Swapped stories of the good times. The crazy times and the bad times, We were at bedside for over a week and seven days waiting for him to die. But that bastard didn’t die. He was fitter than a buck rabbit? I was so sure it was only down to a broken heart, his wife had just walked out on him. He would live longer than the rest of us.