The day was glorious. The mid morning sun was shining warmly and it was the middle of spring. It had been raining the past two days so everything smelt fresh, clean and was totally invigorating to the senses. As I rode my bike into town I let the wind sweep over my face, caressing my skin with the fingers of a hundred angels. In this single moment of time I do not think I had ever felt such joy and I lived an eternity in an instant. I was soon however rudely brought to reality as a siren came blasting up behind me – a fire engine – passing me at great speed. It was soon lost in the distance. Up ahead of me I could see various reflective signs that warned of bridge work ahead. Within minutes I saw the activity of half a dozen dentists performing outdoor dentistry. I thought it a strange thing though – they were performing bridge work for free and I had never heard of dentists doing anything for free before.

Soon thereafter I came upon the township of Douglmayr – quite an old town which boasted a business hub that belied the town’s official population censor. There was indeed a very large external population that used this center as their shopping focal point, and therefore it could support a wider range of business ventures than is typical for such a place. I didn’t have any particular goal this day other than to get some fresh air, some exercise, and perhaps an ice-cream. I peddled gently into town, nodding at the various town residents as I went by. As I passed the town park however, five of the local pests sprung from behind some acacia bushes revealing their ambush. They were armed with homemade rubber-band guns – constructed from their mothers’ broom handles, clothes pegs and some nails. They were cheap and very effective, especially when they tied metal washers to the end of their projectiles. They took aim and with uncanny accuracy let fly with a barrage of rubber and steel. I managed to duck and weave and avoid most of the elastic torpedoes, but one hit me smack in the middle of my forehead sending me flying off my bike and crashing onto the pavement.

The little mongrels were long gone before I was able to gather myself and regain my composure. I inspected my bike however the front wheel was well buckled and there was no riding home in its current condition. Just then sirens again; for a brief moment I thought it was the police coming to defend my honor and bring the full force of the law on the vicious juvenile delinquents – but no, again another fire engine. How strange I thought, there must be something really going on somewhere. As the red hero conveyance passed in front of me my attention was drawn to a man on the other side of the road. He was waving his arms madly at me, yelling something which from this distance was incoherent. He was obviously trying to gain my attention so I crossed the road to see what this fellow may want of me. As I approached him I could see that he was wearing big baggy green corduroy shorts held up with bright pink suspenders, no shirt, and had one side of his head bald with the other half sporting long blond hair with cyan highlights. He had bright red rings on the skin around his nipples – perhaps 10cm in diameter. I came upon him and asked, “what is the matter my friend?” He began screaming at me frantically, “PURPLE CARROT PURPLE CARROT PURPLE CARROT” He then spun three times anti-clockwise and ran off down the embankment that sloped away from the road.