GhostPockets: The Legend of the Fifthirteenth Man
I am he, GhostPockets I be. Or more properly I am Liam Matthew Byrne, a human of sorts and a tea-powered genie arse. An Englishmen settled in icy Canadia, America’s Beau Chapeau, here I am surrounded by faux frenchman and without even a packet of custard creams to comfort me. In the past I have listed myself pon my business card as a “Bespoke Illustrator and International Ferret Smuggler” but unfortunately there’s no money in Mustelidae anymore. Oh I could spin you many a yarn where I blithely sashayed through customs with my trews packed with pesky polecats but those days are long past.
What you really wanted to know was the origin behind my twisted moniker wasn’t it? I’ll gladly spin that tale, that of the BANE OF MY LIFE. I have these fantastic bloody jeans y’see, my old ferret-smuggling jeans that I love to bits (literally the things are in tatters, scratched to ribbons by a conspiracy of critter claws) but now they are infested. Infested with spooks! A pair of mischievous Poltergeese named Irk and Vex who are forever getting me into trouble… Making my cash disappear when I go to the bar (embarassing me and leaving me thirsty), knocking over irreplaceable vases at national museums and sending my house keys into another dimension are just a few of the nasty tricks they have played on me.
So what with the bottom falling out of the weasel market and the crippling payments to cover that ming vase you can see I am in dire straits. Give a dog a bone and commission me, or at least send me a food parcel. I NEED ANGEL DELIGHT DAMMIT!
Drop me a line sometime and I’ll draw ye something fine…