I peered around the door and an icy wind hit me square in the dome.

There, in his basket sat the familiar frame of Argos, my little dog, but in his eyes a queer gleam, as if measuring the cut of my jib.

He barked and a there was a burst of smoky breath and a horrible snarl like Zool.

"WHO GOES THERE" croaked the dark, depressing voice.

"It is I, Rambling Bob. Who art thee, in my dog so brazen?"

"IN TIME"

Ignatious Jones the fearless peered behind the door, his chunky animal molesting knees began knocking together.

"Have we met before?" I led him.

"CLEVER BOB. WE HAVE INDEED, THOUGH IN A FAR AWAY AND SANDY LAND"

"You are the one who took Connie? Why are you hiding in my dog."

"BECAUSE YOUR CAT IS A CUNT"

"That's not really what I meant. I didn't mean why are you in my dog as opposed to my cat or Mrs Fairweather or Martin Amis. I just mean...why?"

"HA HA HA"

"Not really an answer is it?"

"BE SILENT UNWORTHY FOOL. I AM OCCUPYING THIS DOG FOR AN UNDETERMINED AMOUNT OF TIME, AND THERE'S FUCK ALL YOU OR DAVID BELLAMY THERE CAN DO ABOUT IT"

I turned to Jones, who issued a small "MWAH" and hurried down stairs and out into the street flaying his arms and crying like a town planner.

I turned back to the beast. It mocked me with its grin.

"What now? It's just you and me SPAZMO!"

His eyes turned cerise in rage he drew back Argos' head and let out a primeval roar:

"ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH EGO SUM DIABOLUS SPAZMO. EGO WOULD AMO VOS Praecessi QUOD REPERIO A GOAT QUOD FUCK IS SURSUM SUUS Rectum iri. UT EST QUIS EGO WOULD AMO VOS IGNOTUS CUNT. VADO In. FUCK OFF. PRETIUM Visio."

Then he jumped out of the basket and onto the Queen Anne cabinet. He bared his rear and let forth a green coloured gas from his balloon knot and I saw no more.