(CHAPTER ONE: www.plurk.com/p/3kcn)

As dawn broke, Jonny opened his eyes and headed over to the window. He needed coffee and quick.

Boston looked different to how he remembered it but he couldn't think why

But that was before the uprising and things were different the last time he was here

the clouds swelled with uncertain promise. . .

It was the beans that were responsible. ever since they appeared, that's when it all strted

They were broad, and stood for no nonsense from anyone.

swinging around he noticed the room was an odd shape, hand crafted to exacting specs - had the work of someone with money. .

This was going to be a tough day. He holstered his 9mm and walked out the room heading to the mall.

He approached the hotel reception, and made eye contact with the blonde behind the desk.

'Hello Mr Snake' she drawled. 'Shall I tell the management you are here?'

'Hello Mr Snake' she drawled. 'Shall I tell the management you are here?'

she repeated

'no. just tell me where I can get a coffee round here'. She pointed to a diner opposite, watched him leave, and picked up the phone...

"the package is in the open"

filing her nails, mouthing 'asshole' to the bellboy as he passed by with an empty luggage trolley

Jonny entered the diner and located himself near the window. He loaded the 9mm and grabbed the newspaper on the table opposite

he scanned the front page for the date: 5 June 2008. Jonny felt sick. Man, time was jumping about all over the place.

He ordered a coffee and eggs Benedict and started scanning the personals page for hunting outfitters

He spotted one advert that jumped out at him. He began to key in the numbers on his cell phone fast, he listened to the phone ringing...

Time was not on the right continuum. At this rate, he would blink himself back to the eruption of ... what was that volcano?

her voice... it reminded him of...

..what was it? Gnar, it was there, but what. Of course his former manager, but he was fired and it was 15 years ago and in another continent

It was 1993 again and he was with the rest of the band in the Melkweg, Amsterdam. Dirk the drummer came over with a nasty looking blackeye..

"you crazy animal", Dirk screamed. "you nearly had my eye out with the end of that trombone"

Jonny came to. Was this coffee drugged? He glared out of the window as a bespectacled sheikh walked into the diner and approached his table

Jonny came to. Was this coffee drugged? He glared out of the window as a bespectacled sheikh walked into the diner and approached his table

Jonny was seeing double

...suddenly slapped his forehead. "Of course." he cried "It was Vesuvius!"

'you know about *vesuvius*?' the sheikh looked shocked. Well that changes everything. He put away the manilla envelope and sat down.

Jonny scrutinised the Sheikh to make sure he was not a tabloid hack in disguise.

The Sheikh stared at Jonny for a minute. As sweat prickled the small of Jonny's back, the Sheikh whispered, "You are not a tabloid hack."

The Sheikh stared at jonny for a full minute before relaxing. "You are not a tabloid hack in disguise," he whispered as he pulled off his

sunglasses... which were just a portion of his mask. The whole face came off. "What?!" cried Jonny.

It was Clive!

Jonny leaned back. "Now what?" he gasped. Clive leaned towards him, malevolence in his eyes. "You pay the bill," he snarled.

'There's something you need to see'

and followed Clive out the door towards a waiting winnebago

which had been gassed up at a god awful cost of over $500US

Clive opened the door and two big men dressed in business suits and carrying guns, leaped out. "Don't let him leave," Clive,growled while he

handcuffed Jonny and bundled him into the vehicle

Before Jonny passed out, he felt the Winnebago lurch and spin out of the parking lot. He wondered what Clive wanted him to see.Too late now.

When Johnny awoke his world was pink. Not just the everyday version but that in your face, eye slapping pink like a flock of wild flamingoes

He breathed out and the feathers move. Stretching out his arms, he suddenly realized that he had wings. He had changed into a pink flamingo.

And not just any flamingo.

one with teeth..

he looked down and noticed trotters on the end of his legs. 'Shit, not again' he thought...

and there was that urge. that deep dark insatiable urge. he had known it before. once, a long time ago ...

he knew he had to go to San Francisco.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER 3 - "The San Francisco Trotter Experience"

CHAPTER THREE: www.plurk.com/p/dn1e