The Traincrasheroes of Lebanon Count Magic Flowerpots

The Revenge of Prosperous P

Prosperous P hated his girlfriend Ministry being called Ministry M. This was the name that most people used

He was planning his revenge


Winifred was heavily into body painting and liked nothing better that to have her body be used as a canvas

Tim-Tim often amused Winifred by using her luxurious pubic hair as a representation of a large flowerpot from where wild and colourful flowers would grow

Military Career

Traincrasherogreen had always been interested in the military but was unable to join any of the armed forces as he had only one leg

Blue Eyes Blue

Traincrasheroblue always combed his hair carefully before setting out for work. He was proud of his raven hair as he believed that it highlighted his deep blue eyes


His sister Maureen noted in her diary that she was puzzled by colour. In her spare time she caressed statutes of architects


My father fought at Guadalcanal. He told me many stories about the purple flowers that grew in abundance on the island

My mother was a whore but we enjoyed a loving relationship. She often took me to work with her

It was my task to take photographs of the punters fucking her up the arse

When processed these photographs were used to blackmail these sad men

It was a lucrative operation and helped to fund my private education

After five years my mother gave up whoring and joined an evangelical church. She now has her own television show and masturbates before every performance to ensure purity of thought

Maureen’s Secret

When she was sixteen Maureen purchased a house once owned by a great leader. When he died he did not want his grave to be disturbed. He left orders that all the mourners at his funeral were to take poison and that the slaves that built his golden monument were to be slaughtered

For centuries the exact location of his grave was unknown until Maureen found his remains completely by accident near a sceptic tank

In line with his original orders she has killed anyone who has strayed near his grave and is slowly poisoning herself so that the secret may remain secure

Pingo the Penguin   

My wife brought me a small plastic penguin when I was ill. I have called it Pingo and it resides on my bedside table

The creature does not sleep and collects each of my dreams for future use


I am in a coastal town with my wife and children. It is a hot sunny day and we have each been allocated a hotel room. My room is in a public lavatory with debris on the floor. I begin to change from my travelling clothes into attire more suitable for the beach. It is as I am doing this that I notice a withered arm and two severed fingers on the floor almost hidden by the sanitary unit

I pick one of the fingers up and place it in my mouth. It tastes of marzipan and after a few minutes I feel tired and sit on the toilet seat and find a mirror nailed low on the door. I look at myself quietly and fall asleep

Much later I wake up wet and cold. The sky is now very dark and stormy and I cannot see around me

I despair but my mood is improved when I hear the sound of a engine. I open the door and see my family in a vintage car. The interior light is on and I can see that they are all happy with my dream

The penguin dispenses with each of my nightmares and sends them away for recycling I tell them

Pingo is three inches high. I am much taller than Pingo but not as tall as Prosperous P who is seeking revenge

I tell him that revenge is an empty emotion

He does not listen to me

I can do nothing for him

Visit to Guadalcanal

Just over five years ago I travelled to Guadalcanal to visit my father’s grave. The flowers on the island were not purple but red

I think that my father must have been colour-blind

Whilst on the island I found a letter from my father hidden in a tree. He noted that when he killed an enemy soldier that he always shot him in the balls so that the unfortunate would not be able to breed again in Heaven

He suggested this practice to the military but his suggestion was not pursued

His letter was written in purple ink

My Cousin Winifred Owns a Flower Shop  

My cousin owns a flower shop. She sells many species of flowers and I am in charge of the flowerpots

I import them from the Lebanon

After working hours when the shop is closed I often paint Winifred with materials created from the colours of crushed petals

If I am unavailable then Tim-Tim takes over my duties

Tim-Tim is my half-sister

I fucked Tim-Tim for over two years before finding out that we shared a mother

Those were crazy years

Military Career Two

Traincrasherogreen had always been interested in the military but was unable to join any of the armed forces as he had only one leg

In his despair he created his own army but could not find any wars

I met him during my visit to Guadalcanal and he gave me a poem written in white ink on yellow paper. It was hard to read but after a while I was able to understand it

It was a record of an event he had witnessed some weeks previously and was called

A Flight to Costa Rica

Whilst waiting for my war to commence

I saw an airliner

High in the sky

Fly across the crescent moon

It was heading towards Costa Rica

I did not know any of the passengers aboard

Two weeks after I left the island Traincrasherogreen shot himself in his missing leg and bled to death

He was buried next to my father

The Loss of Hair

At the age of twenty-six Traincrasheroblue noticed that he was losing his hair. As he approached thirty his eyes began to fade and he became blind

He fought a duel with Prosperous P but killed Ministry M by accident. Both men became firm friends and any thoughts of revenge were soon forgotten

Memoir Two

I have written this whilst walking the hills of Lebanon. I am wearing traditional Arab dress and remain undisturbed by anyone

In my satchel I carry a number of polythene bags full of sea-anemones which I marvel at each night

They have long since died but even in death I am seduced by their beauty

I do not think I will return from the Lebanon and as I trek further and further into its interior. I often receive correspondence urging me to return. I answer by sending sheets of blank paper dusted by the scented sands

I do hope that people when reading my correspondence will realise what fine flowerpots will be created by my friends who will follow me and discover these magic sands