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Sometimes you just have to share these things with others….[cont.]

We left the story with our beloved hero, yes that’s me don’t forget, as he tottered away from the very distinguished Kitty’s Saloon in West Palm Beach, Florida. We catch up with him a few hours later...

WookieO’s eyes appeared to be glued shut and he was in pain. Lots of pain.

Suddenly his stomach cramped and he violently vomited up what felt like all the food he’d eaten in the past fortnight. He could see though, so that was something. He found himself leaning up against a wall. Oh no….more vomit…

After clearing out his entire stomach and the extra stomachs he never knew he owned, Wook managed to look up and survey the scene. He was outside a fishing Tackle & Bait shop called “One Eyed Willys." It appeared to be morning.

Looking further afield it seemed as though he was still on the main state road, so that was good. Then he saw the sign, the glorious sign!


Nobody had ever been as pleased to see an Economy Inn sign than WookieO at that precise moment…

Without further ado...Wook gathered himself and stumbled towards the motel. As he got closer he began to see that things weren’t quite as he had hoped.

Yes, it was an Economy Inn...however, it wasn’t his Economy Inn! Where the bleedin’ Hell am I? he thought to himself, before opening the lobby doors and venturing inside.

The rather bored looking chap at the reception desk wrinkled his nose as Wook entered, but continued to watch the small portable telly and the episode of Married with Children that was showing.

“Excuse me…” WookieO tentatively approached the desk, “I’m staying at the Economy Inn in West Palm Beach, but I seem to have found myself here instead. Where exactly am I?”

“This is Boca Raton dude. West Palm Beach is like 25 miles up the highway.” the receptionist paused briefly, “Errrmmmm, you know you look like shit, right? And man, what’s that stink?”


Sorry Wook, this is definitely your fault…

Wook got the guy to call him a taxi, then stumbled back out to the street to wait, now beginning to smell himself for the first time too.

Once in the cab WookieO began to relax a little, knowing he was soon going to be able to shower and then have a good long nap. He started to try and work out what had gone on, but was coming up with blanks everywhere.

He decided to check his wallet and see if that gave him any clues…

Bugger.

No wallet. In fact, his passport that he’d been using as ID was gone too...plus his sunglasses and his ciggies too! Not his fags as well, he thought...this day was just getting better by the second.

In fact the only thing remaining in his pockets was his motel room key. At least he still had that.


Something had gone horribly wrong…



The next few minutes things began to move pretty quickly…

The taxi pulled up at the correct Economy Inn and Wook jumped out, shouting to the cabbie that he’d had his wallet stolen and that he was going to have to call the police.

He legged it into his room looking to see if he’d left any cash around to pay for the taxi. He had about 65 cents in change and a packet of Polos. Even if the driver was a massive fan of the mint with a hole, it still wasn’t enough.


They were Polos, not life savers…

Wook ran to the reception and asked a bemused chap at the desk to ring the police for him, as he thought he’d been mugged and had a taxi to pay. Then the bedraggled furball returned to his room and decided he needed a shower.

Halfway through his ablutions he heard a loud hammering on his door and quickly stepped out of the shower and threw a towel around his waist.

On opening the door Wook was confronted by four large, unsympathetic looking police officers. This was not going to end well, he thought.


They were ready to spank the wookie...hard



A few hours later WookieO made it back to his motel, after some time spent in a Florida police interview room. He had been informed that apparently not paying your taxi driver was petit larceny and could face up to six months in jail.

Between a few more bouts of vomiting and a sudden urge to void his bowels whilst sitting in the police car, he had known the cops were not getting the right image of him.


Wookies share many chromosomes with cats…and sometimes have to wait months for them to be returned...

After grilling him on his activities of the night before, even sending an officer out to Kitty’s Saloon to question the barkeep, the WPB PD were no closer to working out what had happened to him. They began the process of charging him, taking his fingerprints and generally freaking him out, before finally releasing him after the manager of the Economy Inn agreed to pay the cab fare for the distraught wookie.

Back in his, fortunately pre-paid, motel room, Wook knew this wasn’t the end of his troubles.

Oh no. By no means had he been through the worst of his ordeal.

He was now stuck in the middle of Florida with not a penny to his name, no credit cards, no passport and still no damn cigarettes!


Smoking’s bad, m’kay?

There was only one thing left he could do. Yes kids, that’s right...make a shameful phone call to Mummy Wook, so she could bail him out. Thus he would forever be labelled as the wookie that got mugged/buggered/shaved/touched inappropriately (or all of them) by person or persons unknown.

The haggard looking bundle of fur took a deep breath. He then picked up the phone, dialled ‘9’ for an outside line and tapped in the number for Wookie Central. This was it. This was the end. There was no coming back from this.

Time for a story… is taken from the official Wook Memoirs which should have been out in all good bookshops about 3 months ago, but due to technical difficulties, will now only be found in very substandard bookshops, hidden behind copies of Gazza: My Story.

WookieO

vCP of the eUK




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