048- The Man Who Would Be King -Ben Wright- -2

Fed up with the everyday grind, tired out from the summer heat. Wanna get away from it all? We offer you... Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure!

You are making your painful way over the great India desert, alone and dying of fist, Whilst behind you, pursuing you, are the fanatical caffiers who once bowed to you as king, and now call for your life.

Tonight we escaped to India, and two soldiers of fortune who pushed fate too far, as Rudyard Kipling told it in his famous story, The Man Who Would Be King. On Saturday night it was my unpleasant duty to put the paper to bed alone.

It was a pitchy black night, as stifling as a night can be in India and Jew. It was very still, save for the ticking of the clock above my desk, which seemed to shatter the black heat of the night as the hands crept toward 3am.

And then from the passage outside my door I heard voices. Who's there? Only us. And who are you? Oh, so you don't remember us, eh? No, I can't say that. Oh, but the job per border then.

Job per border. Yeah, and having the authorities turn us back for impersonating newspapermen. You newspapermen? And then there was the train. Yeah, off of which you had us thrown, if I remember correct. Oh, wait. That flaming red hair.

That bald hen. Oh, Daniel Dravitt and Pichy Kahn, a hen. They say, well, what do you two want this time? If it's money, I haven't got it. And if it's a fight, it's too beastly hot.