The island was just cliffs containing an enormous lighthouse. The lighthouse contained a keeper, but recently nobody had seen him. Provisions were delivered by a helicopter drop on a monthly basis. The pilot Tom landed, contacted base and reported a mechanical fault with the helicopter. Help was on the way.
Tom knocked, there was no response, he tried the handle, the door was locked. He peered into the window and saw an unkempt, bearded, hunchbacked figure, sitting watching him, with an ugly scowl on his face pointing a gun. ‘Can you hear me?’
The auctioneer was in full flow. ‘We have one bottle of 2000 Krug champagne worth £1750. This vintage has a delicate flavour, full of the exotic but subtle nuance of taste and flavour making a highly desirable investment’.
Billy was an urban rat, part of a large ratpack. Food was becoming scarce during the lock-down of the two-legged giants. No-one was eating in their restaurants and discarded food was becoming scarcer. The leader of the pack called the rats to a mass meeting.
‘Listen friends, we’re moving out to the green fields of the farms with grain stores, and mounds of food growing everywhere.’
There was a chorus of agreement, then Roberta Rat shouted.