Two Smelly Uncles Rampaging to the Beat

Two Smelly Uncles Rampaging to the Beat A Short Story by Mr Pseudonym Phillip Bogtrotter looked at the bendy rock in his hands and felt jumpy. He walked over to the window and reflected on his grand surroundings. He had always loved urban Plymouth with its gloopy, grieving gates. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel jumpy. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Raymond Wishmonger. Raymond was a remarkable angel with pointy ankles and blonde fingers.