- Name: northlondonhippy
- Visit the hippy's brand new site!
Contact the hippy
VISIT THE HIPPY'S NEW SITE: www.northlondonhippy.com Spend some time chilling out with the hippy...He used to be "the most shroomtastic stoner on the internet!" until the UK banned fresh magic mushrooms. He's still "the biggest internet celebrity you've never heard of!" He'll make you laugh, he'll make you think...he'll make you wish you were a hippy too!
Friday, November 12, 2004
Untitled Short Story (part two)
One by one the others in the group were departing, many needed to make last trains on tube lines back to the outskirts of London. Not me, I had cab fare and I was hoping I wouldn't need to use it.
Bronwyn certainly noticed the subtle attention I was paying her and she seemed flattered if nothing else. With every glance I clocked her smile, I knew things were moving in the right direction.
"Blade" was the last to leave and I could sense his disappointment that he hadn't pulled her himself. This was especially difficult for him as he perceived his role in tonight's action as pivitol. If it wasn't for his abilities as an electrician, we wouldn't have been able to break into the lab and free all the rats.
So it goes sometimes "Blade" and so goes you, right out the door.
Bronwyn opened a fresh bottle of wine and poured two glasses. She gestured for me to join her on the sofa. I didn't need much prompting.
Now I could describe to you what happened next, in vivid, lurid details, but let's be honest. You already know what happened next, at least in broad strokes you do. We did our little dance of seduction and ended up making love all night.
I knew we would the moment "Blade" departed.
That was the first night of many I spent in Bronwyn's bed. It was very good, except I had to keep feining interest in her animal activism. I was really hoping that after rat-night, I might be able to allow it lapse, perhaps even gradually sway her away from the group, but her commitment and involvement was just too strong.
I went to more meetings, but once the news broke that the rats we freed were actually genetically modified and had the potential to damage the natural ecosystem surrounding the lab, the suggestions of direction action were less frequent. That is until they picked a new cause, fox hunting.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should point out that I've never participated in a fox hunt. My late father did, but he passed away before taking me on my first hunt. My mother was never a fan of hunting herself and didn't encourage my interest. We kept my father's horses after his death at what is now my mother's country house in Wiltshire, but they were never again used for hunting. I didn't know then that they would go hunting one last time, but then how could I? I don't think Bronwyn had thought of it until we visited Mother for the weekend.
It was quite brave of me to invite Bronwyn to meet my mother, but I really didn't have a choice. My mother was insisting that I visit for the weekend, as the following Tuesday she was flying out to the Caribbean for the winter. She does this every year. Bronwyn couldn't bare the thought of not seeing me that weekend and insisted she come with me. I had no say in the matter either way.
I always had trouble saying "no" to women anyway. Call it my weakness, my fatal flaw. But just as I didn't realise what a bad omen the rats were, I didn't realise what would come of this weekend at my mother's place.
Bronwyn was impressed with my mother's house. Ok, it's an estate, set across several acres of the Wiltshire countryside. As well as the main residence, there are servants's quarters, stables and a huge landscaped gardens.
Bronwyn and I agreed she would tell my mother she is a student, as eco-terrorist just wouldn't have sat well with my mother. We actually had quite a pleasant time that weekend, we all got along and even went riding together around the estate.
On Sunday evening, we said goodbye to my mother and returned to London.
I didn't hear from Bronwyn for a couple of days after that and was begining to get slightly concerned something was wrong, but she phoned me and invited me to her place.
I arrived expecting a quiet evening for two, but what I found was the entire group. They were planning something new.
"Blade" ran down the plan, or at least a tiny portion of it. He said this was going to be their most audacious action yet. It would start on Friday afternoon and last all weekend. There base was going to be my mother's estate.
What? Did I hear correctly?
Bronwyn jumped in and explained that my mother's estate was perfect and she knew my mother would be away for quite a while. It was isolated enough and had all the facilities required for what they had planned.
"What facilities?", I asked. I was told not to worry, that the plan was strictly "need to know" and I would find out in good time.
This all made me quite nervous, but one smile from Bronwyn and I was in agreement.
I suppose now would be a good time to describe Bronwyn, as it might help to explain why I was so quick to say "yes" to using my mother's esate for their plan. Imagine Grace Kelly, like she looked in the Hitchcock film, "Rear Window", all small boned and delicate. Now time-transport her to the present day, wrap her in too-tight hipster jeans, a crop top, pierced belly-button, tatoo on the small of her back and a long, thick mane of dirty blonde hair and you've got Bronwyn. I was a complete goner.
My role in the plan was to arrive early at the estate and be ready to greet the rest of the group. That seemed simple enough. What I didn't know as I was unlocking the front door, they were kidnapping a Tory MP.
That was their plan, to kidnap a well-known Tory MP and advocate of fox hunting and use their direction action plan to change his mind about a ban.
When the stolen van pulled up the drive, I didn't know what to expect, so when I saw the group roughly help a man with a black hood over his head out of the van, I didn't know what to think. I certainly couldn't have guessed he was a well-known Tory MP.
They led their prisoner to the stable, Bronwyn seemed to be directing things. How did I not realise until now that she was in charge? They locked the MP inside the stable for the night.
The atmosphere changed after that, it became like a party. Vegetable chilli was simmering in a pot in the kitchen as Bronwyn and I set the table in the main dining room for a communal meal. We didn't say much to each other, though I very much wanted to know what they had planned for their guest.
At dinner, "Blade" recounted how the snatched the MP as he was coming out of his office on Millbank, just near the river. Bronwyn was the bait, need I explain any further. The Tory MP has a reputation as a ladies man, much to his loyal wife's disgust. He would have followed Bronwyn through the gates of hell if he thought she might give him a little, so getting him into the van was not that hard.
They still wouldn't say what would happen next. We all retired for the night.
Bronwyn and I stayed together in my mother's room. I finally asked her what was planned for the MP. She wouldn't tell me, only saying karma was to play a role.
We didn't make love that night, which is a shame, because it was my last chance with her, only I didn't know that at the time. I wish we did, perhaps I would have slept better.
The next morning, we were all up at dawn. Bronwyn asked me to take some of the others and saddle up all the horses, she and Blade were going to prepare our guest.
It didn't take long to dress the horses. We led them outside to a large expanse of open field that compromised the southern part of the estate. I could see Bronwyn and Blade approaching in the distance, but the morning fog made it difficult to make out the third figure with them. As they got a little closer, I thought I might be seeing things.
There was the Tory MP, between Bronwyn and Blade, dressed in an animal costume. He was dressed up as a fox. It was a fox suit, with a big bushy tail, pointy ears and it covered him from head to toe, with just a gap for his eyes to see out.
I could hear another van approaching at speed. It was being driven across the field by another group member. He pulled up near us and I could hear howling from the back of the van. Dogs. He had actual hunting dogs in the back of the van. I could see where this is going, I bet you can too.
This was their idea of convincing this MP to change his mind on fox hunting? They were going to hunt him like a fox! Weren't the rats bad enough? Shouldn't I have realised something was wrong then?
This was too far gone to stop, the rest is all a bit of a blur. I remember feeling dizzy, I know I didn't mount a horse and join the chase. I think I just sat down right there on the ground, too stunned to move.
But not the rest of them, I can remember Blade and Bronwyn screaming at the MP, telling him how wrong fox hunting is, letting him know he would learn what it's like for the poor fox.
They gave him a head start and he was off like a shot. They let the dogs loose and followed on horseback. They were out of my line of sight in no time.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing, a well known MP, dressed as a fox, being chased around my mother's estate by a pack of hunting dogs and crusties on horse back. And Bronwyn, well, I couldn't help feeling a little used by her.
After about ten minutes, the group returned, with the dogs and horses, but no fox, I mean Tory MP.
He got away. He escaped. He made it over the stone wall on the perimeter of the property and managed to flag down a car. Who in the world would stop their car for a grown man in a fox suit, especially one looking shit-scared and breathless? It takes all kinds, I guess.
The group panicked as well and fled, leaving me at the estate on my own. I jumped in my car and left as well, but I didn't really know where to go.
Once I made London, I headed straight for Bronwyn's flat. There was no answer at her door and she wasn't picking up her telephone either. I was running out of options.
I went back to my place on the south side of Lambeth bridge. Bad mistake, the police were waiting for me. It doesn't take a genius to realise that the MP went straight to the cops and reported his abduction and torture. He led them straight to my mother's estate, a helpful neighbour sent them straight to me.
I was arrested and charged with abduction, torture, and unlawful imprisonment. I'm sure you've read about the case. You might have even seen photos of the MP in his fox suit in the national newspapers. Well, now you know who I am, the only one charged.
Bronwyn, Blade and the rest of them, just disappeared. No one's seen any of them since.
Mother's hired a huge legal team for my defense. They have investigators trying to track down the group, but they have run out of leads. Bronwyn had sublet let her flat for cash, so there was no way to chase her down. They were all phantoms, like ghosts they just vanished off the face of the earth.
The well-known Tory MP is now even more pro-foxhunting and has made a fortune in public speaking engagements and tv appearances as a result of his increased noteriety. He's even a semi-regular on that popular comedy programme, you know the one. He pops up every week, that's right, in a fox costume.
As for me, well the "system" has decided to make an example of me and I'm looking at 25 years in prison with the chance of parole after about 8 years. Less with good behaviour.
Let this be a cautionary tale to all of your Lothario's out there. Beautiful women will always get you in trouble. And don't forget to watch out for those super-rats.
(c) November 2004 - the northlondonippy
Well there you have it. That concludes the great northlondonhippy short-story experiment. If I was a real writer, I would work on it some more and try to get it published.
But these days, I'm more of a blogger, than a writer and only my legions of hippyfans can enjoy what I produce, exclusively here on the internet! Remember, my hippyfans, you are the vanguard of the internet elite! Only the incredibly cool make it to this blog! How blessed are you?