People Do You Hear Me?

I wasn't paying all that much attention to their conversation, amusing though it was, but then the guy started calling the girl Scaramouche. This could only mean one thing, that he was the dreamer, or else that they were Globalsoft spies. I preferred the latter theory, Brit the first. I really don't see why though, after waiting for the dreamer so long it's a bit of a let down for him to be someone so, well, weedy. After that we started paying more attention to their conversation, to see if we could discover anything else about them. I poked my head around the side of the van, just in time to see the guy 'dancing'. 'Scaramouche' as she had no decided to be called, preferring that over Long tall Sally, Honky-tonk woman, Lucy in the sky with diamonds and fat-bottomed girl, appeared to hold the same opinion as me, that it was deathly embarrassing. I seriously doubt that the addition of a tennis racket would have made much difference.

I tried to point this out to Brit, but he wasn't having anyone put down the bloke he was now certain was The Dreamer. Having decided to be friends they appeared to be on the verge of moving on, well, I couldn't let these spies do that, so I told Brit that we should get them. I think it came out much louder than I had intended, and they probably heard me. Anyway, I rushed out and Brit, not being one to let me have all the fun followed.

Brit shoved the guy up against the side of the van, but the girl put up more of a fight than you'd expect from someone so small. Anyway, they needed questioning, and Brit didn't seem in much of a hurry to do it, so I did.

His dancing being enough of a criminal offence, never mind the fact that he either was the dreamer or a spy we had to get them and take them back to the Heartbreak Hotel. Even if it was merely for dancing lessons.

Although it came out slightly harsher than I'd intended, the 'Quick, bitch! Where'd your boyfriend get those words?' seemed to get a response. At least from the guy. The girl seemed more concerned with denying him being her boyfriend. Like I'm gonna believe that. You could smell the chemistry a mile off.

And that the guy hadn't seen the texts and didn't know what we meant? If that's true, well, maybe the Bohemians actually have a chance. He's a spy. No doubt about it. Anyway, it was Brit's turn to question them. Fairly obvious one, 'who are you?', I love it when his voice goes that deep. Turned out the kid had been asked this before. 'I don't know! Why do people keep asking me that? I am the walrus! This is Major Tom to Ground Control. Can you hear the drums, Fernando? I am the dancing queen!'

Wow. If he hasn't seen the texts he really is good. If he has, he's got a bloody good memory, and Cliff really needs to work on security around the Heartbreak.

It was enough to get Brit excited, 'You just hear these holy words, in your head?'

Like my arse is fat and hairy he does.

So the spy continued, 'Yes! I don't know where they come from! It's driving me mad, all these phrases and sounds, just stupid, useless phrases….I mean, what the hell is a tambourine man? What's the story, morning glory? Who WAS the real Slim Shady? It's torture! But all I know, and I don't even know why I know it, is that I really, really, really wanna zig-a-zig-ah.'

Wouldn't we all like to know! Well, he's a bloody good liar; he's got that going for him.

And being the dreamer too according to Brit, 'Meat, I think we've found him! This dude's the one! He's the man!' Oh for- he's a SPY! Just because he can spout a load of stuff that anyone who had seen the texts could, or anyone good enough at hacking into the forbidden websites on the internet. A GaGa kid or a spy perhaps? He is not the dreamer.

Or perhaps he is according to Brit. Geez, and he talks about me being stubborn. Okay then. Sure fire way to find out. 'Then test him! And his chick!' Well, she sure didn't seem to like that, 'His 'chick'? What am I now, poultry?' Well, she is a bit of a bird, so, yeah. Pretty much. We don't have time to argue, 'Test him!' It's dangerous for us to be above the surface, and he could be leading Globalsoft to us.

Okay, Brit really doesn't need to do the kung-fu, and with the sound effects as well. Dude, it's just not cool. Apparently the girl didn't think so either, 'Does he do that all the time?'

'Yeah. I love it!' Hey! It's not for her to diss my man! That's my job. My prerogative. But his voice, now that she really can't fault.

Oooh. Well would you look at that. Hear it, rather. He's continuing! 'Mama, life had just begun but now I've gone and thrown it all away.' But he really didn't need to do the kung-fu before hand. Almost as bad as his dancing. Almost.

'He knows the text – but he's never read it! He's the man!' Way to state the obvious Brit.

Okay, so I will concede, maybe I overreacted slightly, but it's a big occasion! Maybe I shouldn't have thrown myself at him with quite so much force - I nearly knocked him over, but still, questions need answers. 'But what does it mean? Tell us! Who is Mama, who's been killed, why has it all been thrown away?' And maybe not so many questions at once. But it didn't matter. He didn't seem able to give them. For someone who's meant to be the dreamer he's not doing a very good job so far. And dude, seriously. You're not meant to continue! Particularly at that volume. Point proved you know. He may not know much, but I do. Sure as Globalsoft is a tyrannical dictatorship, he's coming with us. But we don't need her.

Evidently he does though. 'Hey I'm not going anywhere without Scaramouche.' Oh please. You're a big boy now, you don't need someone to wipe your nose for you when you've got an ickle sniffle. Fab, she doesn't want to come! Actually, that's a little offensive. And killers? Not human killers. I resent that accusation. Brit doesn't though, 'We are, baby! Killers, thrillers, and bizmillahs!' HEY! I resent that more. I'm his baby. He'd better not be getting any ideas.

Brit being incapable and awestruck, it was up to me to set the record straight. 'We're the resistance - the last hope!' And Brit continued, 'We are the bohemians!' It's this little dialogue we have whenever kids join us. It goes roughly as follows, of course it depends who's found the kids. It's kind of like an advertisement, or something you'd put on a CV. Ours is as follows:

Me:And now you have a choice. Are you ready to break free?

Brit:Do you want it all?

Me:To be a shooting star, a tiger?

Brit:Defying the laws of gravity!

Me:Are you ready to be champions!

And then the girl went, 'Nah, sounds a bit boring if you ask me'.

I completely misheard at first, and was thinking, 'Great, lets go!'. It's not everyday someone says they don't want to be a bohemian. Oh, hang on. She's joking. That's a relief. And then Brit does his spiel. The 'no going back' bit. 'Then understand this! If you come with us, if you join the bohemians, there's no going back to GaGa land. You'll be an outcast, forever, no longer a member of the cons-human race.'

'Sounds perfect. Let's go!' Indeed it does. What a day it is for these guys, escape GaGa land, and get found by us. What could be more perfect for them? To be in control I suppose. They've lost it all, they've put their entire faith in us.

Brit starts talking to the guy about the texts, leaving the girl looking a little lost. I walked over to her and whispered, 'and you're rushing headlong, you've got a new goal, and you're rushing headlong out of control.' She looked even more confused and lost, I suppose it was a strange way to start a conversation, but it sums up her situation perfectly.

It would seem that Brit has moved on from discussing the texts, and is having a similar conversation with the guy, 'and you think you're so strong, but there ain't no stopping and there's nothin' you can do about it.' The girl picks up on this and gives a slight smile – the first I've seen from her. 'No, there's nothing you can do about it.' Well Brit sure is making his point known.

As I turned round I saw the guy give a slight smile as well, he walks over to the girl, and taking her hand gives another slight smile. Almost simultaneously they say, 'nothing you can'.

I cut in with 'do about it',' and gave them a grin.

They smiled back, more openly this time, 'and there's nothing you can do about it.' The girl seemed a little scared of the guy, or maybe the fact that he was holding her hand, and removed it from his almost the instant she realised he was holding it. I was walking slightly ahead of them, and the girl – Scaramouche, the guy called her, tried to make conversation, 'So, how'd you two meet?'

Not quite the type of question I was expecting to be asked, but I answered nonetheless, 'He used to be a man with a stick in his hand.' She looks slightly confused, but he was a man with a stick in his hand. Well, it was more of a bat really- a baseball bat. I was drawn to him- he was different. Not a clone for a start. He had raw, natural talent. I laughed at her confusion, but it would have been mean of me not to explain, so I did. 'He was a baseball player, so, I suppose it was more of a bat really.'

Brit and the guy had caught up with us, and he gestured to me, 'She used to be a woman with a hotdog stand,' he explained. I was – I sold them at his games. I didn't like it but I had to have some way of earning money. Life was tough in 6L. Grotty little apartment, and my parents always fighting. I couldn't stay there all the time. I would have killed myself for sure, not just stopped at the knives, broken glass and whatnot. Of course Brit had it all in 2C, not as good as some, but still a hell of a lot better than me.

I started thinking about the first time we met outside of work, I hated it. 'Now you've got soup in the laundry bag,' I muttered. It really annoyed me at the time, but Brit couldn't have been kinder about it. When our paths crossed for the first time away from the pitch, I was doing the team's laundry- another of my many jobs, he was with a girl and she tossed her soup away carelessly and it landed on the clean laundry. I've never seen Brit so angry as he was then.

Brit must have heard me because he whispered to me, 'now you've got strings you're gonna lose your rag.' I couldn't help but give a little laugh - he started a fight with her in the street, a full blown slanging match. She was the one who made it physical though- she leapt at him- handbags and hair flying, scratching and slapping him.

'You're getting' in a fight and it ain't so groovy,' I laughed.

'When you're screaming in the night 'let me out of this cheap B-movie',' Brit grinned back. As I found out later, they were on their way home from the cinema. She chose the film and he'd hated every minute of it- she loved it of course. Their 'relationship' was a disaster waiting to happen from what I heard.

Damn. We'd forgotten about the other two. At times Brit and I get caught up in our own little world, and no one else can break into it. But, it looks like the girl's getting worried. Too far away from GaGa land for her liking no doubt. Where are we going? To the Heartbreak Hotel, in other words, 'We're going down hen!' Down's just about right, we're literally going down- deep underground.

The guy seemed to pick up on the fact that Brit and I were engrossed in each other, and our story. He sidled up to the girl, gesturing to us, 'when a red hot man meets a white hot lady'.

The girl cut him off with a laugh, something I never thought I'd hear from her – she seems too sullen for that. 'Soon the fire starts to burn and gets 'em more half crazy'. She may only be joking about me and Brit, but there seems to be a spark between those two… interesting…

But, I'm still not sure about her, she seems genuine, but… I dunno. I tried to turn round unobtrusively, see if I can make up my mind about her, but evidently the guy noticed as he whispered to the girl, 'Now they start freaking everywhere you turn, you can't start walking 'cause your feet got burned.' Well that's a good way to get her confidence up. I dunno, maybe I'm wrong. I hope so, she seems nice enough. I gave a half smile, it's ironic really, what I told them applies to me to, 'it ain't no time to figure wrong from right, cause reason's out the window, better hold on tight. I suppose that philosophy applies to everyone, but it's definitely true for these guys. Reason really is out the window- with love, life, everything. The whole shebang.

My my my, doesn't time fly when you're having fun! We were there. Home sweet home. I left it to Brit to welcome them, which sure enough, he did. We just had to hide them before they got found by Big Macca, but it was too late. He'd evidently heard us.