Seems you owe me a bit of money, Len my friend” Jimmy the Gopher said sinisterly, chewing a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth, in the way that gophers often do.

“Yes, about that… Funny story..”

“You better have a good excuse. You wouldn’t like me to give you some…. Orrible torment would ya?”

Lens face went white – the same colour  his fleece as it happens.

“Jeez Christ, no … Not orrible torment, Jimmy – anything but that.. I’ve got your money, Jimmy… I mean, I’ll have … By tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. You say you have it, I’m inclined to believe you. Let it never be said Jimmy the Gopher ain’t a fair guy. Me and the boys will be round your house tomorrow morning at 6am. If you don’t have it… Then we’ll all take a little trip out to my allotment. Capice?”

Lens head was nodding so hard Bert wondered if it might not break off.

“Whatever you say Jimmy, sure, tomorrow at 6….no problem at all.”

Jimmy the Gopher gave a slow crafty wink, the same way you’ve probably seen gophers wink down the zoo or the chip shop, and turned on his heels and went out the door.

“What are you going to do Len? We don’t have 5 grand!!”

Len looked up at the TV to see his horse limp into last place. He tore up his betting slip into confetti and dropped them on the floor.

“Ey-up, some’ones gotta clear that up, ya bleedin blighter!” Said the glass eyed, northern bookie Phil-the-whippet from behind his bullet proofed plastic partician.

Len sighed.

“Pick that up will you Bert.” He said.