[AFGNCAAP]

***

After finding red 'ZOMG!'s in three further spots of her apartment, Squinky began to worry a bit. She was reminded of the stalker who had been bothering her a couple of months ago (What was his name again? Leigh?) and suspected that he could have broken into her flat while she was asleep.

"I'm not safe here", she decided. Having quickly packed only the most important stuff into her suitcase, she rushed outside.

Squinky intended to pay an unexpected visit to Ruffles (who hopefully had forgiven her the whole lettuce incident by now) and call the police from there. Like many other things on that night, however, her plans were about to change.

In fact, they changed as soon as she stepped outside and saw a young man lying on the pavement, face down, in front of her house.

[Lee in Limbo]

The wood lice moved out.

Bereft of life, Lee removed mimself from the thread and left the more socially acceptable people to run the plot into the ground without his help.

[RLacey]

Squinky muttered under her breath as she reached into her pockets for her gloves.

"Not again..."

It was strange, really, she thought. One body on the pavement outside your house would be weird. Finding bodies two days running, though, was more than a little disturbing. Squinky debated going back inside into the warmth. In the light of the street lamps she could see her breath, and she shivered again. Then she stood up straight, pulled on her gloves and set off down the road.

***

Officer Manolay sat at his desk, fidgeting. He hated working night shifts; either nothing interesting happened or there was some crisis that needed immediate attention. Attention that he had no desire to provide.

As he stared at the computer monitor in front of him, which was bathing the room in a dim, blue light, he realised that he had impulsively reached for another doughnut.

I really need to stop this, Manolay thought as he bit off a chunk of the chocolate-covered treat. I might get fat. The officer was one of those people that saw himself as far thinner than he actually was; in reality he was already more than a little obese.

Manolay closed the lid of the HappyDough™ box and sat back in his chair. It was only then that he noticed the message that had appeared on the computer monitor.

11 PENTON AVENUE
ARMED ROBBERY IN PROGRESS.

Cursing loudly, Manolay stood up and walked slowly to the door, pausing to retrieve his jacket.

[Giligan]

Her footsteps glanced off the street and echoed against the builidings on either side in hollow The enormous amount of cake she had eaten earlier was good, granted, but now Squinky was hungry again. I'll get a meal after this mess is figured out, she though.

---

Siren wailing, Officer Manolay's cruiser sped down the side allyway through the snow. He felt the police-issue shotgun behind him reasurringlly. Good. He sped around a corner, furious at criminals for rocking his rather peaceful boat on a night like this.

---

She heard screaming. A shot. Glass breaking. Oh crap. Not again. Her hurried walk turned into a run. Street lamps, doorways slipped by as she ran down the street. In the distance, she could hear a siren. Too late, she muttered.

Then there it was. A small restaurant, Squinky remebered as having excellent wiener schniztel, was in chaos. Four men, with guns. 9mm Beretta's. Okay, think. Cell phone. Dial 911.
A mettalic click.
Crap.
They had a man outside. watching for this.
"Ok, move it." A shove in the back.
She was hurriedly moved into a group of prisoners including patrons and restaurant employees. Strangely, Spiwak, Bulldog and Target43 were there also.

---

Manolay spun around the corner. Jeez, they're everywhere! He opened the door and leapt out, crouching behind it before the car had even rolled to a stop, while the 'perps fired at him suddenly.
Whang.
"Drop your weapons!" He screamed. A shot. Blood spurted out of his arm. He tested his arm. Strangely, his fingers wouldn't pull the trigger anymore. And now, here they come!

Suddenly, a roar of thunder. Night turned to day. The world exploded. Four times.
The criminals were unharmed, but their weapons had been shot clean out of their hands. Terminated. Needless to say, they ran. Giligan walked out of the side shadows he had been watching from, holsted his .50 Desert Eagle, then hopped into his Cord 812 SC while the now-released prisoners in awe watched him drive away.

Another day, another dollar, he thought. I'm getting tired of saving the inoccents from the badguys. Why can't people just defend themselves? Ah well, he thought, if that were the case, there would be no need for people like me. What's a guy to do?

He wondered on these things as he motored through the darkness-shrouded town, to....

[AFGNCAAP]

...wherever his help was needed next.

***

"Hello? Hello?" cried Spiwak to his cell phone. "Oops, sorry, wrong number," replied the voice on the other side, and hung up. Spiwak scurried away dejectedly and went back to being held hostage.

For the first time ever, Donald Dalton was glad of being the slowest of the gang. While Giligan had been taking care of his brothers - Joe, William, Jack and Averell - Donald had been still inside the restaurant, collecting money from the last cash register.

Now, he grabbed the arm of a random prisoner (who just happened to be Spiwak), and, to everyone's horror, put a gun against his head. "Move!", he barked and pushed his hostage outside.

[SSH]

Seasoned hostage negociator Lacey rushed to the scene. In a flash, he knew what to do. Grabbing the loudhailer, he appealed to Donald for a hosatge exchange... Spiwak for The Thread™.

Little did Donald know that Lacey was trying to get The Thread™ killed. And if Spiwak was lost in the crossfire, so be it...

[Squinky]

Meanwhile, The Thread™ sat on a comfortable sofa in a well-decorated cottage somewhere, drinking tea whilst watching The Young and Restless Days of our Lives. Getting old wasn't all that bad, it mused. Sure, it wasn't nearly as attractive to other threads of its preferred gender anymore, but at least retirement was fun.

Suddenly, the Thread™ heard a bit of scratching at its door. "Must be that darn cat again," it muttered to itself, and wandered over.

[AFGNCAAP]

It wasn't a cat. Or, at least, it was a very unusual one - a black, feathered cat with beak and wings.

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," said Threadâ„¢ "art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

"ZOMG!", squeaked the bird, and flew away.

[RLacey]

***


The siren on the ambulance blared out into the night as the vehicle swung dangerously around the corner. Inside, a paramedic stood tending to the policeman who was lying unconscious on a trolley.

"Can't you drive any faster, George?"

"Are you kidding me?!" came the reply. "This is suicidal as it is!"

Kapek studied the man lying in front of him. The guy is riddled with bullets. He glanced at the officer's name tag.

"Manolay, H"

Kapek was sure that he'd seen that name before. Somewhere important.

The ambulance rounded the corner and pulled up outside the hospital. The door opened from the outside, and the two paramedics rushed inside the building with the trolley.

There would be time to think about the name later.


***


Robert Lacey stood in the road, face to face with Dalton. He realised that he was holding a needlessly dramatic pose, but decided to maintain it. It suited him.


"So, do we have a deal?"

[SSH]

Suddenly Noel Edmonds burst in and sued Robert for breach of copyright in nearly using his catchphrase.

Mr Blobby loomed menacingly behind him

[Squinky]

...and exploded.

Robert then saw this as an opportunity to finally get around to doing his evil bidding. He took off running toward the Thread™'s cottage, only to trip over the body lying in front of Squinky's apartment.

[AFGNCAAP]

"Jim?", muttered Robert, perplexed.

He immediately recognized the body as belonging to one James McGuffin, his fellow ex-co-student from Oxford. Last time they met, Lacey was just graduating, while Jim was seriously considering moving to another university.

"Old Britain is too small for me, Lace-o", he had said then, "I mean, sure, Oxford is as good as it gets, but I physicallly need more space. I'd feel right at home in China, or Russia, or..."

Canada.

[Giligan]

Lacey stumbled backward, almost falling in his hast to get away from the body. What on earth happened here, he wondered? He ran to the cottage door.
He knocked on the door.
"Who's that?"
"Um... The ketchup deliveryman" replied Rob.
"What? I didn't...."
The Thread came to the door. Upon opening the door, he was not greeted by a ketchup delivery, but by the other's gloved fist, which suddenly slammed into his jaw. He collapsed like a lawn chair.

"Ow! #$$%" Anyone looking at that moment would have been rather amused by the scene, which consisted of Robert leaping about on one foot in a comical manner, while shaking his bruised hand.


After composing himself, he carefully picked up the Thread, and deposited him in his car's trunk. At that moment, his cell phone rang. It was....

[AFGNCAAP]

Noah.

[SSH]

Wyle.

[Panthera]

Lace answered the phone while he slammed the trunk lid closed. "Have you killed the thread yet?" Noah Wyle asked. "Not yet" replied Lace, "I'm on my way to the bridge now". While he was talking he walked hurried towards his cars front door.
"The bridge! are you nuts?" Shouted Noah. "That's not the way to do it!"
*Silence*
Lace froze in his steps. Something was wrong! He...

"Robert..... Robert! Robert answer me!" shouted Noah into the phone. Suddenly he heard..

[Squinky]

...a soft, soothing female voice say "Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line." accompanied by a faint Kenny G tune in the background.

"No! Not Kenny G!" exclaimed an exhasperated Noah. He then proceeded to throw his cellphone as hard as he could against the nearest surface he could find, which just so happened to be an old bum sitting on the street and carrying a cardboard sign with the words "give me change or I'll eat your firstborn" on it.

Robert, in the meantime, was sinking in quicksand, only it was pink and had the consistency of bubble gum.

[SSH]

Robert realised he's have to blow like he's never blown before (excluding, of course, that incident with the goat). In a flash, he'd managed to blow a bubble from the gum large enough to float him out of the quicksand.

As he drifted lazily through the azure sky, he suddenly realied that his breath should be carbon dioxide rich and thus heavier than air. Why was he floating? Perhaps it was soemthing to do with that radioactive helium canister that had bitten him while he was ogling Mary-Jane.

Robert realised he had become Helium-boy!

[RLacey]

***


Sitting on a bench in the dim light of the changing room, Don Kapek remained motionless. He'd been there for the last twenty minutes, just staring into space. George had gone home - his next shift would be tomorrow evening - and Kapek knew that he ought to get some sleep. He was troubled, though, and he knew that he couldn't rest until he'd got to the heart of the matter.

Why is the name "Manolay, H" so important?

Suddenly it came to him. Springing to his feet, Kapek glanced at his watch.

There might still be time.

Kapek ran from the room and down the corridor of the hospital, almost kicking over a cleaner in the process.


***


High up in the sky over New York, Helium Boy performed a mid-air somersault, and then hovered, bobbing gently up and down in the cool night breeze. Lacey was surprised how quickly he'd gotten over his fear of heights, and was now taking great pleasure in watching the New York nightlife from a distance. There was something picturesque about the scene once one was distant from the squalour.

The last day had been more than a little strange. He was supposed to have had the afternoon off, but a number of staff strikes had led to him being pressed into working until the early hours of the next morning. Or, at least, that was the plan. It had all reached a most unsavoury end, though, with the Penton Avenue robbery.

As he looked to his left, Lacey could see a patch of flashing blue lights; a sea of movement at the height he had now reached.

That must be the restaurant.

For a fleeting moment, he considered returning there, but decided against it. Either way, though, he was going to need to find a way back down onto the ground.

Lacey sighed. Then, realising the effect that it was having, he sighed more deeply. And again.

Slowly but surely, Helium Boy began the journey back to earth.


***


Squinky stood behind the counter of the restaurant, swearing under her breath.

[Squinky]

She had ordered her usual favourite dish: a pizza with every single ingredient that the restaurant offered except pineapples. Only this time, for some odd reason, she was given a pizza with nothing but pineapples on it.

The perky middle-aged woman at the restaurant counter, oblivious to Squinky's extreme irateness, flashed the biggest pearly-white smile she could muster. "How can I help you today," she inquired in a sickeningly syrupy sweet voice.

Too upset to form coherent sentences, Squinky let out a grunt. "I beg your pardon?" asked the woman at the counter - or at least that's what she would have asked if she didn't suddenly get interrupted by The Artist Formerly Known As Helium Boy falling right through the ceiling.