Disclaimer: I do not own Black Books, the plot is just mine. The characters of Bernard, Manny and Fran belong to the creators of 'Black Books'.

Enjoy the story!

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Book writing competition by Amy

Opening yet another pack, Bernard Blacks' hand shakily ripped apart the top and turned it upside down onto his desk, to which it rained twenty cigarettes. Fumbling around eagerly for the one that felt right, he picked it up and, still shaking, lit it with the lighter in his hand. Giving a deep breath out of smoke he sighed and looked into the distance as if he was having the most relaxing moment of his life.

'Bernard! Bernard!'

A storm broke his silence as the monkey came tumbling through the curtain and climbed over a bridge of books to get to the front of the desk, blocking Bernard from his view.

'Guess what I got?' Manny said, jumping up and down with glee with a big cardboard box in his hands.

'What? That your monkey tail has finally arrived?' Bernard said gruffly staring at him with beetle black eyes. His cigarette was still dangling in his mouth so the words came out a bit slurred. 'How am I supposed to know, Manny? It could be anything. A new clock, kitchen ware, tampons…'

'No! It's the entry forms for our writing competition!' Manny exclaimed happily, slamming the box on the desk so ten cigarettes rolled off onto the floor. Bernard gave a look of confused anger. He would get Manny later.

'Now, we can put these over on the table over there…' Manny said, while opening the box and holding out at least fifty sheets of A4 paper with entry details on them; all the while Bernard looked at him as if he was talking a foreign language. '…and then the customers will see them properly and we will just turn this box into the entry thingy!'

Manny was over the moon and bounced over to his desired table and placed the papers neatly next to a stack of '100 questions you would dare ask Gordon Ramsey'.

He stepped back to admire his handy work and folded his arms with a grin.

'There, perfect, don't you think Bernard?'

'Yeah, it's fantastic!' He muttered back sarcastically. Then as an after thought, he puffed out some more cigarette smoke and said suddenly, 'why are we doing this for, Manny? The guy came in, asked us if we could do it. I said no, you said yes and there were definitely some pancakes involved but somehow I can't remember that part!' He stuttered, taking a swig of red wine from the glass that was already on the table.

'Yeah, I know but it will increase our popularity, especially with the teenagers and we're gonna have our picture in the paper!' Manny declared faithfully.

'What, you mean the 'Ghastly Gazelle?' Bernard smirked.

'Gazette', Bernard. 'Ghastly Gazette" Manny pronounced for him. 'And anyway, it will put some fun into our days! Some new troops coming through the doors for a change, people will be mad to enter this competition! A chance to rediscover that creative side, the lost dreams and the shining sun! And the prize! Ooh, the prize Bernard…!'

'Are we talking strawberry jam and colouring books?' Bernard said gravely. 'Ooh yes, what a joy! I'll go to my gran's; oh she'll be so proud of my prize! We can eat scones with my winning jam and we can doodle together in my lovely book of freaky, colourless clowns!' Bernard took the last swig of wine. 'Sounds like a hoot, Manny!'

Manny sighed impatiently and turned round to take a form. 'Do you know what you need, Bernard? A nice, clean sweep of your dark imagination. Maybe you can have a go at this!' Reading from the form he said, 'must be based on either: a comical event in your life, a fantasy world of your own, or an event that has been on the news'. He looked at the paper with glee and then at Bernard. 'Oh it's so exciting!'

But Bernard was too busy sticking cigarettes into his ears to care.

'Bernard!'

'WHAT?' He spat. 'I'm trying to work here!'

'No you're not!'

'Exactly! With you shoving your lame poetry in front of my face! Now get out of MY SHOP!' Bernard's face was turning redder by the minute.

'Oh come on Bernard, get out of your 11am booze up and come help me put flyers up around the street…'

'What time is it?!' Bernard shrieked. He looked at the clock on the wall. 'How can it possibly be 11 already? I've not had a single customer yet. Where are they?' He pounded his fist on his desk where yet more cigarettes toppled off.

'I'm not stopping, just a quick bender then I'm off to the shop that does those things with those people…' the door opened and in walked Fran, slightly disorientated and looking rather drunk already. She wore huge sunglasses and her hair was neatly combed on top of her hair with a red bobble tied round so she looked like a 'Thing' from the 'Cat in the Hat'.

'Oh, where are you going Fran?' Manny wanted to know curiously.

Fran managed to get herself to the desk and poured herself a glass of red wine from Bernard's half empty bottle. 'Well, you know those swanky upper town designer shops with the perfume and make up departments? Well, I'm going to try and have those ladies in uniform spray me and give me free makeovers so I will look totally hot on this date of mine!' she said proudly, taking a swig.

'Why can't you buy things like everyone else?' Bernard moaned.

'Because I'm short on cash at the moment and my 'No.7' is detering away so I'm saving it for special occasions.'

'Isn't this a special occasion?' Bernard asked.

'No, this is a meet up with a drink, lunch and maybe a walk along the canal if it gets intimate, so I can't take any chances if it ends up with a drink, light snack and a trip round the high street!'

Bernard narrowed his eyes and rubbed them with his hands, hiding his tiredness.

'Oh and can I borrow a packet of fags? I'm all out in my flat…'

'Yes! Just take them!' Bernard flicked the last couple that were on his filthy desk at her face. She caught them in time and put her sunglasses on her head so she could see properly. Her sockets were bloodshot.

'Huh? Just two Bernard?'

'FINE!' He pulled out the remaining two out of his ears and gave them to her forcefully. She took them with great care and said,

'Oh thanks a lot!' And popped one of the invalids in her mouth. 'Right, that's me sorted! I'm all ready to meet this lucky feller in the pub.' She walked past and nodded at Manny who was sorting out the forms.

'Bye, Manny.'

'Bye Fran, good luck!'

She stopped and turned to him, blinking uncertainly. 'Manny.' She said. 'What is that?'

Manny turned round and grinned at the attention. 'Oh, this? Well it's the forms for the book writing competition!'

'Ha ha!' She laughed. 'Go on, I'll take two…Kyle is a bit of a book worm plus it will make me look fantastically brilliant too!'

As Manny passed her a few sheets, Bernard looked up. 'You what? His name is Kyle? Where did you meet him anyway, Miami Beach? Did you crash into him by chance when you were both surfing on the same wave or was it because you found each other in a parlour specialising in tie dye shirts?'

'No,' Fran said matter-of-factly. 'Now leave me alone,' she put on her sunglasses, 'I'm off to the make up department at Debenhams!' She grinned. 'Ta ta little cherubs!' She smiled happily.

Bernard looked at her as if she had come down with some horrible form of measles. Then turned his attention back to Manny. 'What are you still doing here? Get going…shoo! Outside!'

Then Manny scrambled with a stapler and fifty posters. 'See you this afternoon!' Came the reply.

Bernard was left alone in his bookstore and smiled wickedly, 'hello my pretties!' He gestured at the hidden pack of cigarettes under his desk. 'I'm glad they don't know about this place! Ha ha!' He stuck three in his mouth and lit them gleefully, pouring another glass of red wine while doing so.