John parked, they got out, and Simon waited for his friend to lock the Mini. He read the banner promoting tonight’s show – a live band, ‘Rockset...e’ they called themselves. ‘Good!’ he thought. He loved live music. Inside, the club was both dark and gaudily lit, a contradiction that Simon thought had probably cost quite a bit to attain. There were spotlights and string lights and a dance floor lighted from below, but the overall effect was still dark. The entrance was plush but well worn. Simon. That leaves Scrotum. Scrotum was the son of a prostitute, who sadly died of something very nasty when he was twelve. His mother had always told him about his famous father, plus he had heard lots of stories as he had grown up. Once he hit eighteen, he had searched out his father and asked to join his crew. Unfortunately, it didn’t take his father long to find out that Scrotum was a terrible pirate. He passed out at the sight of his own blood, he couldn’t run due to his asthma, and he couldn’t. " He nodded."What's that?" Patrick was pointing at a branch of Mum's native fig tree (Ficus macrophylla). "The bump." That's not a bump. That's an owl. Probably a Southern Boobook. They sleep during most of the day and wake up and hunt in the evening and early morning. They eat mice and grasshoppers." 'Kay. Patrick thirsty."I guess I spent a lot of time with him, just being a naturalist.Mum was really back to normal a few days later. Weena reported that Alice was doing "quite well" and I asked. On the other end of the phone, a smile spread slowly across her face. She, too, had been listening to the long "honey do list". While listening to the droning from the girlfriend via the phone, she began her own "honey do list", only hers was much more fun! Whispering softly into the phone, she told him what she'd be doing were she in the room with them, only down below his broad oak desk hidden from view. His grip on the arm of his leather office chair tightened as she typed her thoughts of.