I went for a swim in a local watering spot when I was swept up on the back of a giant sardine. Swept off and carried way out to sea where I was used as a kind of human beach ball by two frisky marine mammals. Oh, I don't blame them really - any damage they caused to my person was not done on Porpoise. These things happen.
Anyway, whilst I was being batted to-and-fro between the fishy-breathed enthusiasts, I had time to step back a little from the day-to-day hubbub... time to reflect. It was during this time that I suddenly realised that the reason that horses unsettle me is that their bodies are the hosts of the spirits of dead Nazis. Yes, that's right! Dead Nazis. They chose the horses as the perfect host, as a horse typically has an ostensibly gentle eye, and they did not want to raise suspicions. And that is why, when I look into the eye of a horse and I see the hateful glint of a Nazi fanatic staring back at me, I am rather freaked out to be quite honest...
So there we are... some say that DeBunkem's thoughts are actually the deranged ramblings of a senile 95 year old man with a shock of silver hair and huge leather ears... some say, that DeBunkem was knocked down by an Ice-Cream float and that you are currently reading the inner thoughts of his mind - his coma ('coma' you fool! Not 'comma'). Some say -
"Haddock tears tear my heart apart... isn't it" [Jurgen Gavin]
Perhaps we will never know. Why so? Because, my Reader, I am an unreliable narrator!
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