Chapter Three

There were only two reasons why a man should ever have to run Harris had decided. Number one was if he was being chased by something that wanted to eat him or at least seriously hurt him. Number two was if he was chasing something he wanted to seriously hurt or eat. He was 90% sure the security guard from the department store they had being running from did not want to eat them and couldn’t of hurt them if he tried seeing as he was somewhere around 154 years old. He was also sure the only thing him and Jake were running towards was a pub lunch which whilst being something they wanted to eat was hardly going to hightail it out of the establishments freezer if it suspected they were on their way to devour it. He turned the corner which Jake had just gone hurtling round, his recently stolen trousers flapping in the wind over his shoulder and ran slap bang into the face of somebody heading in the opposite direction sending him flying onto the pavement.

‘OOOWW FUCK!’ He screamed at the offending person who stood motionless in front of him as blood started to trickle out of Harris’ nose. He’d had enough of today already and was not in the mood for pleasantries with what looked like a 12 year old kid standing completely still with a somewhat bemused look on his face even though the collision had managed to send Harris flying a good 4 feet..

‘Why don’t you look where you’re fucking going you little shit!’

The child had still not moved and seemed to not have a scratch on him. He did however seem to be getting very flustered and in a hurry.

‘I’m dreadfully sorry friend. I’m just in a bit of a rush and not used to…’

Harris was not in the mood for this. He’d taken enough abuse from kids on the trains over the past few years. They spat at him, smoked and drank and if he said anything to them about their behaviour 50% of the time they pulled out a knife (well twice anyway). It was about time someone stood up to these troublemakers. Before the nose breaker had the chance to explain what he was not used to (probably walking and talking at the same time Harris thought) he got to his feet, planted a swift knee into the boy’s youthful testicles and walked across the road into the pub. He gave a slight glance round behind him as he went. The chav had certainly felt that alright and was now screaming something that didn’t sound like any language Harris had ever heard. But he supposed he himself had yelled in tongues he didn’t think possible for human vocal chords to manage after a kick in the balls. The boy should be glad. Now he knew what it felt like to be on the other side of an unfair advantage. It would be a while before he mugged an old lady on the bus again. Harris entered the bar, proud that he had done his hometown a service and hoped Jake had got a round in.

Jake was actually in the toilets trying to remove a security tag from a pair of trousers. These things were trickier than they looked and he was beginning to lose his patience. The idea of testing the universes loathing of him by wetting himself now seemed a very stupid idea indeed and he was starting to chafe quite badly down below. He decided he couldn’t waste anymore of the day messing around with his clothing, so he removed his trousers, washed his legs and genitals as best he could with water from the cistern, put on the new ones and left his shirt untucked so the security tag was hidden away. Perfect. He emptied the pockets of the his previous wet jeans and found his wallet with his train ticket and the picture of his parents still thankfully dry, his mobile phone with half a battery, his fake Swiss army knife and a small pencil he had stolen from a betting shop on the way out of the station. He removed the half roll of toilet paper from the wall and stuffed it in his back pocket. Time to make that list he thought and exited the cubicle. He went up to the mirror and bathed as much of his upper body as he could without getting naked in the men’s toilets (something that had backfired on him in the past). He attempted unsuccessfully to do his hair and went to return to the bar.

‘Have you been speed-dating yet?’

Jake nearly jumped out of his own skin. Unfortunately that was impossible so he merely slipped over onto the floor of the toilet and got his brand new stolen jeans covered in urine. ‘Beyond ironic’ Jake thought and got to his feet slowly trying to make out the figure coming forward from the shadows.

‘Have you been speed-dating yet?’ The figure asked again. Jake could make him out now. He must have been around sixty years old but he looked pretty good for his age. Skin still smooth, no crows feet around the eyes, hair only slightly receding. He was probably just less than 6 foot tall and wore a fedora hat, a long black trenchcoat, with brown trousers and shoes. As he came forward he blew large smoke rings which landed over Jakes face.

‘Err no I have never been speed-dating. Nor would I like to go with you or indeed anyone I meet in the men’s toilets’

‘Damn it I’m early. I’ll speak to you after you’ve been to the speed-dating’.

Yeah ok, old man, sure. Speak to you soon’. Jake turned round to leave when he felt something tug on his shoulder and spin him back round. The Old man was suddenly centimetres from his face.

‘Listen to me Jake Stunner. I know you. I know all about you. I know why you’ve got a security tag on the back of your jeans, why you have a half used toilet roll in your back pocket and why you smell so badly of urine.’

‘I smell of urine because you scared me into falling onto the floor

‘You smell of urine because you pissed yourself in front of several children and their mothers earlier today you little prick. Now perhaps next time you see me after the speed-dating you won’t be so quick to dismiss what I have to say.

‘For the last time I am not going speed-dating it’s for sad losers who can’t get a da..’

The old man pulled him even closer and whispered his next few words with such intensity that Jake thought they might burn him as the breath hit his face.

‘You ever feel like you’re the main actor in the movie of your life Jake? Wouldn’t you like to be the director instead?’

And with that he swept out of the door.

Jake Stunner was not one to shock easily. He pulled himself together remarkably quickly, took a moment to look himself up and down in the mirror again and swiftly left the toilet grabbing a paper towel as he did so to dry his jeans. He encountered Harris straight away buying a couple of drinks at the bar and surveying the menu. He caught sight of Jakes wet jeans.

‘Not again Jake. Have you got a problem or something?’

‘Never mind that, which way did the old man go?'

‘I’m sorry?’

‘The old man; He must of just walked straight past you’

‘We’re the only two people in the whole pub Jake’

‘What? Oh whatever. I’m not getting distracted anymore. Come on lets sit down’. They found a seat in the corner and Jake began to explain his plan at length to Harris.

‘So let me get this straight. You want to get back your ex who you call Pixie?’

‘The Manic Pixie. Correct’

‘And to get her back you’re going to write a shopping list of things to buy in order to help you’

‘Correct again’

‘Fair enough. So what’s the first thing on the list?’ Jake thought for a minute and froze. He’d been so caught up in the idea of getting the Pixie back that he hadn’t actually bothered to think about how he was going to do it. In fact he had no idea how to even begin. Flowers? Chocolates? Lube? He had never been particularly romantic even whilst he was with the Pixie. How was he going to convince her he was a modern day Romeo now?

‘Anyway, what do you want her back for anyway?’ Harris went on. If you want my advice never go back out with an ex. It never works. You’d be better off meeting someone new.’

‘Well tell me Cupid, how would you suppose I do that?’

‘I don’t know, the normal ways. Bars, evening classes, websites, speed-dating’

‘What?’

‘I said bars, evening classes…’

‘And speed-dating! That’s it. Jake got out his pencil and scribbled speed-dating on his toilet roll.

‘I don’t think going speed-dating is going to help you win your crazy elf or whatever she was called back.’

‘Never mind all that now. Get your phone out and Google speed-dating. I need to find the most local place. To go’

‘You’re on the wrong floor mate’. A voice called over from the bar. Jake and Harris looked up to see the barman gesturing upstairs with an elbow whilst he polished a glass. ‘Speed-dating’s upstairs in the function room. You’d better get up there, it started 10 minutes ago.

Jake Stunner was on his feet already. Downing the rest of his beer he grabbed Harris and began to pull him towards the stairs.

‘Come on Harris we’re going speed dating. This plot is beginning to thicken!’