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Jordan Supertramp
22/M/Bristol, England    Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. - Alexander ...
HED TRAMA
Earth    Crash landed on earth on June 5th, 1994... Found my independance sometime in 2000... Realized how fucked up this world is in 2008.... Met my ...
Alexander Supertramp

Poems

Mr Ketchups first trip on a tram
A Story by ROSALIND






Jun 2014

Title



Mr. Ketchup was ready and waiting for the first tram to run to the Burgh Street airport. It had been years of utter chaos with all the road works and the endless track being laid on every road in Butterworth town.
  ‘About time too - my feet are killing me’ said Ketchup.
  ‘Yes,' answered a bleary eyed Haggis.
  ‘Oh I do wish that these people would stop shoveling’ snapped Ketchup.
  ‘Be patient otherwise we’ll all land up on the floor’ said Haggis.
  ‘It’s hardly surprising, look at everyone all packed in like sardines.’ groaned Ketchup.
  ‘Oh Mr Ketchup why do you have to complain about the least wee thing? Torn-face Tomato frowned.



The tram took ages before reaching the first station, and poor old Ketchup was desperate for a cold drink. He certainly looked annoyed in fact he seemed like he'd pass out at any second. No one could get moving and soon it would be time for the journey to end. But oh dear Mr. Ketchup felt dizzy and stars were floating in front of his eyes. Slowly he lost his balance and landed on the next lot of passengers, knocking them to the floor. Haggis looked like he’d seen a ghost. Well as you can imagine it wasn't a good experience for Mr Ketchup and his friends. The conductor stopped the tram while the other passengers got off in disgust making complaints to the conductor.
Mr Ketchup slowly came around while Haggis returned with a glass of cold water.
   ‘Eek ...what happened, my head feels a bit funny moaned Ketchup.
Neaps and Haggis hardly had time to explain when the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. Mr. Ketchup made a big fuss about lying on the stretcher but Haggis insisted on it. He lay wincing all the way to the hospital because of all the bumpy roads. They shouldn't have spent all of that money on the trams - it was shocking. It would have been far better to fix all these holes in the road he thought to himself.

After a long day Mr Ketchup climbed into bed and fell fast asleep. The very next morning the incident appeared in the local newspaper. The transport department were blamed for overcrowding the tram. The council were looking into the health and safety rules. Due to the very serious injuries that poor old Ketchup had suffered, he would be in line for a huge pay out or so he thought.
It wasn't until the first hearing in the court that he realised it would only be a pittance.

   Well I might have known it was too good to be true. He thought If they think that they can fob me off with sweets then they have got another coming. He smirked.      

  ‘What do you have in mind Haggis?’ he said looking worried."
  ‘Just you wait and see’ said Ketchup grinning.



The very next day Ketchup got up early and he had written half a dozen letters to very important people. One too the prime-minster to start with.
Within a matter of a week he received the letter that he longed for, inviting Ketchup to the prime-minister’s office. Mr Ketchup couldn't find his best suit, ‘Oh bother he thought the only one I do have has shrunk at the legs. It looks like my cat has died in them.’ he wailed.
  ‘Oh just look at you’ laughed Neaps and Haggis.
  ‘Why are you laughing at me?’ frowned Ketchup."
  ‘You're going dressed like a *****’ he roared with laughter.
  ‘You do look rather strange Neaps’ he said and looking away trying not to laugh again.
  ‘Well I suppose so if you say so’ he nodded.
  ‘Look why don't you all come down to mine, and I’ll sort you out smiled Torn-Faced Tomato.



Mr Ketchup couldn't believe what he was hearing, had Torn-face turned over a new leaf or maybe she had a soft spot after all. Half an hour later Ketchup looked fit to see the queen, neatly dressed in a tweed jacket with matching trousers and a white shirt with a green tie. He looked ever so smart. Ketchup whistled but oh dear he never noticed the cat tail and went flying, landing right in the cats dinner.  

Oh dear it looks like Mr Ketchup won't be going anywhere for the time being.....
What do you think?




Jun 2014

Title



Mr. Ketchup was ready and waiting for the first tram to run to the Burgh Street airport. It had been years of utter chaos with all the road works and the endless track being laid on every road in Butterworth town.
  ‘About time too - my feet are killing me’ said Ketchup.
  ‘Yes,' answered a bleary eyed Haggis.
  ‘Oh I do wish that these people would stop shoveling’ snapped Ketchup.
  ‘Be patient otherwise we’ll all land up on the floor’ said Haggis.
  ‘It’s hardly surprising, look at everyone all packed in like sardines.’ groaned Ketchup.
  ‘Oh Mr Ketchup why do you have to complain about the least wee thing? Torn-face Tomato frowned.



The tram took ages before reaching the first station, and poor old Ketchup was desperate for a cold drink. He certainly looked annoyed in fact he seemed like he'd pass out at any second. No one could get moving and soon it would be time for the journey to end. But oh dear Mr. Ketchup felt dizzy and stars were floating in front of his eyes. Slowly he lost his balance and landed on the next lot of passengers, knocking them to the floor. Haggis looked like he’d seen a ghost. Well as you can imagine it wasn't a good experience for Mr Ketchup and his friends. The conductor stopped the tram while the other passengers got off in disgust making complaints to the conductor.
Mr Ketchup slowly came around while Haggis returned with a glass of cold water.
   ‘Eek ...what happened, my head feels a bit funny moaned Ketchup.
Neaps and Haggis hardly had time to explain when the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. Mr. Ketchup made a big fuss about lying on the stretcher but Haggis insisted on it. He lay wincing all the way to the hospital because of all the bumpy roads. They shouldn't have spent all of that money on the trams - it was shocking. It would have been far better to fix all these holes in the road he thought to himself.

After a long day Mr Ketchup climbed into bed and fell fast asleep. The very next morning the incident appeared in the local newspaper. The transport department were blamed for overcrowding the tram. The council were looking into the health and safety rules. Due to the very serious injuries that poor old Ketchup had suffered, he would be in line for a huge pay out or so he thought.
It wasn't until the first hearing in the court that he realised it would only be a pittance.

   Well I might have known it was too good to be true. He thought If they think that they can fob me off with sweets then they have got another coming. He smirked.      

  ‘What do you have in mind Haggis?’ he said looking worried."
  ‘Just you wait and see’ said Ketchup grinning.



The very next day Ketchup got up early and he had written half a dozen letters to very important people. One too the prime-minster to start with.
Within a matter of a week he received the letter that he longed for, inviting Ketchup to the prime-minister’s office. Mr Ketchup couldn't find his best suit, ‘Oh bother he thought the only one I do have has shrunk at the legs. It looks like my cat has died in them.’ he wailed.
  ‘Oh just look at you’ laughed Neaps and Haggis.
  ‘Why are you laughing at me?’ frowned Ketchup."
  ‘You're going dressed like a *****’ he roared with laughter.
  ‘You do look rather strange Neaps’ he said and looking away trying not to laugh again.
  ‘Well I suppose so if you say so’ he nodded.
  ‘Look why don't you all come down to mine, and I’ll sort you out smiled Torn-Faced Tomato.



Mr Ketchup couldn't believe what he was hearing, had Torn-face turned over a new leaf or maybe she had a soft spot after all. Half an hour later Ketchup looked fit to see the queen, neatly dressed in a tweed jacket with matching trousers and a white shirt with a green tie. He looked ever so smart. Ketchup whistled but oh dear he never noticed the cat tail and went flying, landing right in the cats dinner.  

Oh dear it looks like Mr Ketchup won't be going anywhere for the time being.....
What do you think?





Jun 2014

Title



Mr. Ketchup was ready and waiting for the first tram to run to the Burgh Street airport. It had been years of utter chaos with all the road works and the endless track being laid on every road in Butterworth town.
  ‘About time too - my feet are killing me’ said Ketchup.
  ‘Yes,' answered a bleary eyed Haggis.
  ‘Oh I do wish that these people would stop shoveling’ snapped Ketchup.
  ‘Be patient otherwise we’ll all land up on the floor’ said Haggis.
  ‘It’s hardly surprising, look at everyone all packed in like sardines.’ groaned Ketchup.
  ‘Oh Mr Ketchup why do you have to complain about the least wee thing? Torn-face Tomato frowned.



The tram took ages before reaching the first station, and poor old Ketchup was desperate for a cold drink. He certainly looked annoyed in fact he seemed like he'd pass out at any second. No one could get moving and soon it would be time for the journey to end. But oh dear Mr. Ketchup felt dizzy and stars were floating in front of his eyes. Slowly he lost his balance and landed on the next lot of passengers, knocking them to the floor. Haggis looked like he’d seen a ghost. Well as you can imagine it wasn't a good experience for Mr Ketchup and his friends. The conductor stopped the tram while the other passengers got off in disgust making complaints to the conductor.
Mr Ketchup slowly came around while Haggis returned with a glass of cold water.
   ‘Eek ...what happened, my head feels a bit funny moaned Ketchup.
Neaps and Haggis hardly had time to explain when the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. Mr. Ketchup made a big fuss about lying on the stretcher but Haggis insisted on it. He lay wincing all the way to the hospital because of all the bumpy roads. They shouldn't have spent all of that money on the trams - it was shocking. It would have been far better to fix all these holes in the road he thought to himself.

After a long day Mr Ketchup climbed into bed and fell fast asleep. The very next morning the incident appeared in the local newspaper. The transport department were blamed for overcrowding the tram. The council were looking into the health and safety rules. Due to the very serious injuries that poor old Ketchup had suffered, he would be in line for a huge pay out or so he thought.
It wasn't until the first hearing in the court that he realised it would only be a pittance.

   Well I might have known it was too good to be true. He thought If they think that they can fob me off with sweets then they have got another coming. He smirked.      

  ‘What do you have in mind Haggis?’ he said looking worried."
  ‘Just you wait and see’ said Ketchup grinning.



The very next day Ketchup got up early and he had written half a dozen letters to very important people. One too the prime-minster to start with.
Within a matter of a week he received the letter that he longed for, inviting Ketchup to the prime-minister’s office. Mr Ketchup couldn't find his best suit, ‘Oh bother he thought the only one I do have has shrunk at the legs. It looks like my cat has died in them.’ he wailed.
  ‘Oh just look at you’ laughed Neaps and Haggis.
  ‘Why are you laughing at me?’ frowned Ketchup."
  ‘You're going dressed like a *****’ he roared with laughter.
  ‘You do look rather strange Neaps’ he said and looking away trying not to laugh again.
  ‘Well I suppose so if you say so’ he nodded.
  ‘Look why don't you all come down to mine, and I’ll sort you out smiled Torn-Faced Tomato.



Mr Ketchup couldn't believe what he was hearing, had Torn-face turned over a new leaf or maybe she had a soft spot after all. Half an hour later Ketchup looked fit to see the queen, neatly dressed in a tweed jacket with matching trousers and a white shirt with a green tie. He looked ever so smart. Ketchup whistled but oh dear he never noticed the cat tail and went flying, landing right in the cats dinner.  

Oh dear it looks like Mr Ketchup won't be going anywhere for the time being..
What do you think?
Mitchell Duran Nov 2013
It was 98'.
No, it was 99'.
That was the year.
Yeah, that was the year.

I had just landed abroad and knew no one.
Well, I was there with my girlfriend, Page.

I knew her.

We had to get out of the states.
There was nothing for us there.
We were drowning in that nothingness - that lacking future.

Cookie cutters everywhere.

Everything I saw was like an outline of something that had already happened.
I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't ****.
I could barely call my parents to let them know what I was doing.

Nothing really.

Floating downward like a leaf broken from its stem.
I was scared.
I'll admit it.
I was terrified of the next four years.
Twenty-five seemed so far away and so close, all at the same time.

We had a found an apartment to live in while in the U.S.
We were lucky because people we met later on said it was hell trying to find a place after arriving.
I was never too good at that stuff anyway.
I always felt like people were trying to cheat me or something.

It was small.
You would have said you loved it, but secretly hated it.
One could barely stand in the shower.
Want to spread your arms wide?

Forget about it.

There was a balcony though and you could watch the street traffic from above.
People look so small when your high up.
Down the street, there was a large theatre where they filmed movies.
I rarely saw them shooting, but I could tell it was a good place to.
It was beautiful at night when the lampposts would flicker on, orange spilling on the street.
Everything was damp in the Fall when we first arrived.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked her. She was laying face down on the bed.
Whenever she was hungover, she would do that.
All the covers and pillows over her face, blocking out the world and its light.
I did the same thing, so I couldn't really say much.
We were hungover a lot those first couple months.
Then came the jobs and everything changed...mostly.

She moaned something that I couldn't understand.
I was standing by the window, staring at the pigeons and crows perched on the roof across from us.
They had made a little nest under one of the shingles.
Clever little ******'s.

"Look at those things," I said.
The coffee I was drinking was bitter and made from crystals.
It gave me a headache, but it was cheap and we were broke.
I stepped back to get a better look at their nest and knocked an empty beer bottle around.

She moaned again and rose up from bed, kind of like a stretching kitten or a cat.
Her back was arched like a crescent moon and she stunk of ***** and Sprite.
The blankets were twisted and crumpled and she was tangled in them like a fly in a spiders web.
I went into the kitchen and poured out my coffee, thinking of what to do with the day.

"Breakfast?" she asked me from bed.
My back was to her, but I knew she wanted me to make it.
I put the electric stove on and opened the refrigerator.

"No eggs," I said back to her, "I'll be right back."

She moaned and slithered back into bed.
I threw my jacket and slippers on and made my way downstairs.

"Dobry den," I said to the cashier.
He was a tiny vietnamese man with a extremely high pitched voice.
I struggled to stifle a laugh every time I came in.

"Dobry den," he said back, sounding like air escaping from a balloon.

"Dear God," I thought, "How does his voice box do it?"

I went straight to the eggs, pretending to cough.
All around me were packaged sweets and rotten vegetables and fruit.
There were half loaves of brown, stale bread wrapped lazily in thin plastic.
Canned beans, noodle packets, and cardboard infused orange juice lined the shelves.
Where were the ******* eggs?
We needed milk too.
Trying to drink that crystalized coffee without it was torture.
I don't even know how I did it earlier.
"I must be getting used to the taste..." I thought.

I opened the single refrigerator they had in the place.
It was stocked with loosely packaged cheese, milk, beer, and soda.
There they were, those ******* eggs, right next to the yogurt.
I looked at the expiration date of a small carton of chocolate milk and winced.
"Someone could die here if they weren't careful," I whispered to myself.

"Everyding O.K.?" I heard the cashier squeak behind me.
I turned and nodded and showed him the eggs.
He was suspicious I was stealing something.
It was ironic.
I put the eggs on the counter and handed over what the cash register told me.

"There you go," I said and handed him the 58 crown in exact change.

"Děkuji," he peeped.

His voice sounded like a stuffed animal.
I nodded, smiled, and quickly got the hell out of there.

"You know the guy that works at the shop across the street?" I asked the body still in bed.
Well, she was up now, back up against the wall with her laptop on her lap.
"You mean the guy that has the voice of a little girl?"
"Exactly. I was just in there - getting these eggs - and I nearly laughed in his face."
"That's mean," she frowned, staring at her laptop.
Many of our conversations were with some kind of electronic device in between us.
We needed to work on that.
"I didn't laugh at him directly."
She smiled and nodded and moved down the bed a little more.
Only her head was resting on the pillow.
I cracked two eggs and let them sizzle there in the butter and the salt.

"So, what do you want to do today?" I asked Page, "It's not too cold out. We could go on a walk."
"Where?"
"I don't know. Over the bridge and maybe down by the water."
"It's going to be so cold," she shivered.
"I was just out there in slippers and a t-shirt and I was fine."
"That's because you're so big. I'm tiny. I don't get as much blood flow."

I flipped the two eggs and looked down at them.
Golden and burnt slightly around the edges.
******* perfect.
Now, just gotta wait a little on the other side and make sure to not let the yolk harden.
I hated that more than anything in the world.
Well, that and hearing **** poor excuses like it being too cold.
It was nice out.
She'd be fine.

"Come on," I sighed. I did that a lot. "It'll be fun."
She looked up at me from her computer with a dead look in her eye.
"What?" I asked her.
"You're such a...nerd," she said.
"No I'm not."
"You're so weird. Some of the things you say sometimes..."
"Like what?"
"Let's go on a walk."
She exaggerated the word walk.
I laughed and knew I was being a little too excited about a walk.
"Yeah. So? What are you doing? You're just laying there doing nothing."
"It's my day off," she scoffed, jokingly.

We were unemployed.
Everyday was a day off.
This was not something to bring up.
It was touchy subject.
One had to go about it...delicately.

"We need to find jobs," I stated, "And we can probably ask around or look for signs in windows."

"Oh JESUS," she gagged, coughing and diving back under the covers.

"I'm just thinking ahead so we can stay here. There's got to be something out there we can do."

"Like what?" she asked, her voice muffled by blankets.

"I don't know...something," I mumbled, trailing off as I flipped one of the eggs, "Perfect."

After breakfast, Page finally got out of bed and took a shower.
I tried to sneak in there with her, but, like I said before, one could barely fit themselves in there.
We compromised to have *** on the bed, though I did miss doing it in the shower.
As Page got dressed, I watched her slip those thin black stockings on, half reading a magazine.
I had gotten a subscription to The Review because I was trying to become a writer.
I thought, maybe if I read the stuff getting published - even the bad **** - it'll help.
Later, I realized, this was a terrible idea, but I enjoyed the magazine all the same.
Page finished getting dressed.
I jumped into whatever clothes were on the floor and didn't stink.
Then, we were out the door on Anna Letenske street, looking at the tram, downhill.


"I can see my breath," Page said, "It's cold..."

"Alright," I said as both of us ran across the street, "It's a little cold."

"But it's ok because I'm glad were out of the house."

"If we would have festered there any longer, we would have stayed in there all day."

"And missed this beautiful day," she said mocking me, putting both of her arms in the air.

The sky was gray and overcast and a single black crow flew over us, roof to roof.
No one was out, really.
It was Sunday and no one ever really came out on Sundays.
From the few czech friends I had, they explained to me this was the day to get drunk and cook.

"Far different then what people think in the States to do," I remember telling him.
"What do you do, my friend?" he had asked. He always called me my friend.
It was a nice thing to do since we had only known each other a couple weeks.
"Well," I explained to him, "Some people go to church to pray to God."
He laughed when I said this and said, "HA! God? How many people believe in God there?"
I had heard through the news and some Wikipedia research Prague was mostly atheist.
"A good amount, I'm pretty sure."
"That's silly," he scoffed, "Silly is word, right?"
"Yep. A word as any other."
"I like that word. What else do they do on Sunday?"
"A lot of people watch football. Not like soccer but with..."
"I know what you talk about," he said, cutting me off, "With the ball shaped like egg?"
I nodded, "Yes, the one with the egg shaped ball. It's popular in the Fall on Sundays."
"And what is Fall?" he asked.
You can see our relationship was really based on questions and answers.
He was a good guy, though I could never pronounce his name right.
There was a specific z in there somewhere where one had to dig their tongue under their teeth.
Lots of breath and vibration that Americans were never asked or trained to do.
Every czech I met said our language was a high contradiction.
Extremely complex in grammar and spelling, but spoken with such sloth.
I don't know if they used the word sloth.
I just like the word.

As we waited for the tram, I noticed the burnt orange and red blood leaves on the ground.
"Where had they come from?" I wondered. There were no trees on the street.
Must be from the park down the block, the one with the big church and the square.
There were lines of trees there used as leaning posts for the bums and junkies as they waited.
What they were waiting for, I never knew.
They just looked to be waiting for something.
I kicked a leaf into the street from the small island platform for the tram.
It swept up into the air a couple inches, and then instantly, was swept away by a passing car.
I watched as it wavered in the air, settling down the block in the middle of the road.

"Where's this trammm," Page complained.
Whenever it was cold out, her complaining level multiplied by a million.
"Should be coming soon. Check the schedule."
"Too cold," she said, "Need to keep my hands in my pockets."
I shook my head and looked at the schedule. It said it would be there at 11:35.
"11:35," I told her, still looking at the schedule. There was a strange cross over the day of Sunday.
"You mad?"
"No," I said turning to her, "I just want to have a nice day and its hard when you're upset."
"I'm not upset," she said, her teeth chattering behind her lips.
"Complaining I mean. We can go back home if it's really too cold. It's right there."
"No," she looked down, "Let's go out for a bit. I just don't know how long I'll last."
"Ok," I shrugged.
I looked up the street and saw our tram coming; number 11.
"There it is," I said.
"Thank God," Page exhaled, "I feel like I'm about to die."

Even the tram was sparse with people.
An empty handle of cheap liquor rattled in the back somewhere.
I heard it rock back and forth against the legs of a metal seat.
"Someone had a night last night," I thought, "Hope that's not mine."
We had gone to some dark bar with a lot of stairs going down - all I really recall.
Beer was so **** cheap there and there was always so much of it, one got very drunk easily.
I couldn't even really remember who we met or why we went there.
When everything's a blur in the morning you have two choices:
Feel guilty about how much you drank, lie around, and do nothing or,
Leave it be, try not to think about it, and try and find your passport and cell phone.

We made our transfer at the 22 and rode downhill.
Page looked like she was going to be sick.
Her sunglasses were solid black and I couldn't see her eyes, but her face was flushed and green.
"You alright?" I asked her.
"I'm fine," she said, "Just need to get off of this tram. Feel like I'm going to be sick."
"You look it."
"Really?" she asked.
"Yeah, a little bit."
"Let's get off at the park with the fountain. I don't want to puke here."
"Ok," I said, smiling, "We'll get off after this stop."

We sat down on one of the benches that circled around the fountain.
It was empty and Page was confused why.
"Maybe to save money?" I suggested.
"What? It's just water."
"Well, you gotta' pump the water up there and then filter it back out. Costs money."
"Costs crown," she corrected me.
"Same thing," I said, putting my arm around her, "There's no one here today."
"I know why," she stated, flatly.
"Why?"
"Because it's collllllllld and it's Sunday and only foreigner's would go out on a day like this."
I scanned the park and noticed that most of the faces there were probably not Czech.
"****," I muttered, "You may be right."
"I know I am," she said, wiggling her chin down into her jacket, "We're...crzzzy."
"We're what?" I asked. I couldn't hear her through her jacket.
She just shook her head back and forth and looked forward, not wanting to move from the warmth.
Dogs were scattered around the brown green grass with their owners.
Some were playing catch with sticks or *****, but others were just following behind their owner's.
I watched as one took a crap in the center of the walkway near the street.
Its owner was typing something on their phone, ignoring what was happening in front of him.
After the dog finished, the owner looked down at the crap, looked around, then slunk off.

"Did you see that?" I asked Page, pointing to where the owner had left the mess.
"Yeah," she nodded, "So gross. That would never fly in the states."
"You'd get shoulder tackled by some park security guard and thrown in jail."
"And be given a fat ticket," she said, coughing a little, "Let's get out of here."
"Yeah," I agreed, "And watch for any **** on the way out of here."

We made our way out of the park and down the street where the 22 continues on to the center.
"Let's not go into the center. Let's walk along the water's edge and maybe up to the bridge."
"Ok," I said, "That's a good idea." I didn't want to get stuck in that mass of tourists.
I could tell Page didn't either. I think she was afraid she might puke on a huddle of them.
We turned down a side street before the large grocery store and avoided a herd of people.
The cobble stones were wet and slick, glistening from a small sliver of sunlight through the clouds.
Page walked ahead.
Sometimes, when we walked downtown in the older parts of Prague, we would walk alone.
Not because we were fighting or anything like that; it was all very natural.
I would walk ahead because I saw something and she would either come with or not.
She would do the same and we both knew that we wouldn't go too far without the other.
I think we both knew that we would be back after seeing what we had wanted to see.
One could call it trust - one could call it a lot of things - but this was not really spoken about.
We knew we would be back after some time and had seen what we had wanted to.
Thinking about this, I watched her look up at the peeling paint of the old buildings.
Her thick black hair waved back and forth behind her plum colored pea coat.
Page would usually bring a camera and take pictures of these things, but she had forgotten it.
I wished she hadn't.
It was turning out to be such a beautiful day.

We made it to the Vlatva river and leaned over the railing, looking down at the water.
Floating there were empty beer bottles and plastic soda jugs.
The water was brown, murky, and looked like someone had dumped a large bag of dirt in there.
There was nothing very romantic about it, which one would think if you saw it in a picture.
"The water looks disgusting," Page said.
"That it does, but look at the bridge. It looks pretty good right
Jun 2014
Title

Mr. Ketchup was ready and waiting for the first tram to run to the Burgh Street airport. It had been years of utter chaos with all the road works and the endless track being laid on every road in Butterworth town.
  ‘About time too - my feet are killing me’ said Ketchup.
  ‘Yes,' answered a bleary eyed Haggis.
  ‘Oh I do wish that these people would stop shoveling’ snapped Ketchup.
  ‘Be patient otherwise we’ll all land up on the floor’ said Haggis.
  ‘It’s hardly surprising, look at everyone all packed in like sardines.’ groaned Ketchup.
  ‘Oh Mr Ketchup why do you have to complain about the least wee thing? Torn-face Tomato frowned.

The tram took ages before reaching the first station, and poor old Ketchup was desperate for a cold drink. He certainly looked annoyed in fact he seemed like he'd pass out at any second. No one could get moving and soon it would be time for the journey to end. But oh dear Mr. Ketchup felt dizzy and stars were floating in front of his eyes. Slowly he lost his balance and landed on the next lot of passengers, knocking them to the floor. Haggis looked like he’d seen a ghost. Well as you can imagine it wasn't a good experience for Mr Ketchup and his friends. The conductor stopped the tram while the other passengers got off in disgust making complaints to the conductor.
Mr Ketchup slowly came around while Haggis returned with a glass of cold water.
   ‘Eek ...what happened, my head feels a bit funny moaned Ketchup.
Neaps and Haggis hardly had time to explain when the ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital. Mr. Ketchup made a big fuss about lying on the stretcher but Haggis insisted on it. He lay wincing all the way to the hospital because of all the bumpy roads. They shouldn't have spent all of that money on the trams - it was shocking. It would have been far better to fix all these holes in the road he thought to himself.

After a long day Mr Ketchup climbed into bed and fell fast asleep. The very next morning the incident appeared in the local newspaper. The transport department were blamed for overcrowding the tram. The council were looking into the health and safety rules. Due to the very serious injuries that poor old Ketchup had suffered, he would be in line for a huge pay out or so he thought.
It wasn't until the first hearing in the court that he realised it would only be a pittance.
   Well I might have known it was too good to be true. He thought If they think that they can fob me off with sweets then they have got another coming. He smirked.      
  ‘What do you have in mind Haggis?’ he said looking worried."
  ‘Just you wait and see’ said Ketchup grinning.

The very next day Ketchup got up early and he had written half a dozen letters to very important people. One too the prime-minster to start with.
Within a matter of a week he received the letter that he longed for, inviting Ketchup to the prime-minister’s office. Mr Ketchup couldn't find his best suit, ‘Oh bother he thought the only one I do have has shrunk at the legs. It looks like my cat has died in them.’ he wailed.
  ‘Oh just look at you’ laughed Neaps and Haggis.
  ‘Why are you laughing at me?’ frowned Ketchup."
  ‘You're going dressed like a *****’ he roared with laughter.
  ‘You do look rather strange Neaps’ he said and looking away trying not to laugh again.
  ‘Well I suppose so if you say so’ he nodded.
  ‘Look why don't you all come down to mine, and I’ll sort you out smiled Torn-Faced Tomato.

Mr Ketchup couldn't believe what he was hearing, had Torn-face turned over a new leaf or maybe she had a soft spot after all. Half an hour later Ketchup looked fit to see the queen, neatly dressed in a tweed jacket with matching trousers and a white shirt with a green tie. He looked ever so smart. Ketchup whistled but oh dear he never noticed the cat tail and went flying, landing right in the cats dinner.  
Oh dear it looks like Mr Ketchup won't be going anywhere for the time being.....
What do you think?