NARRATOR 5: Our intrepid heroes are thinking about heading into the sunset

Okay, I’m sick of this. I’ve been sat, perfectly manicured fingers poised over the keyboard, for a month now, while Queenie + Percy toss ideas round. But there’s a grey pall of writer’s block and cigarette smoke hanging over the apartment.

We’ve tried everything. We cleared out the mancupboard. Sean Bean has gone on holidays; up north to a little town by the sea. Nobody wanted to take on Clive Owen, so he’s gone fuck knows where.

We called in Colombo and she threw a few ideas into the pot. All Colombo-type ideas, mind, such as, could we do a bit of back-story because she was confused about the characters. Our intrepid heroes thought about that for a while. Nah! How confusing can three characters be? Anyways, we don’t want to remove that air of mystery we’ve engendered.

We took a few days off work to try and nail this episode. Queenie cleverly scuppered that by installing broadband the day before we started. Now it’s day four, not an inch of the internet unexplored and still nothing done.

I suggested we introduce a new character, a guy who’s appeared on the scene, well my scene in particular, in recent weeks. But Queenie felt that might confuse Colombo even more. I’m a bit pissed at that, I think Queenie just doesn’t want to share me with anyone.

So we’re sitting around drinking coffee, and nobody can leave the flat until this gets done.

Percy is sitting in a corner sharpening his sword. The sound is making my teeth scream. If ever there was a living metaphor for ‘I need to get laid’, then it’s Percy sitting in a corner sharpening his sword.

Queenie is trying to get her iTunes to come up with a publishable Party Shuffle, but it’s not happening. Why did she import the goddamn Bonnie Rait album if it offends her so much? I ask you.

Then Queenie had a brainwave. Let’s do a list she said. The internet is full of lists. And you can be funny and rant in a list. And you don’t have to worry about narrative or pacing or character development or anything.

“What kind of list”, says I. She mulls this over for a moment and then says, a list of reasons why we should cross the ocean to continue our Quest.

Percy stopped sharpening sharpish at the sound of that. He lifted his head, and there was such a piteous look of hope in his soft eyes that even I was moved.

“Cross the ocean?”

Queenie smiles over at him. “Yeah, dude.”

“To America?”

“No. Not to America, to Canada." I thought Percy was going to burst into tears, so Queenie said hurriedly,

It’s right beside America and it’s much nicer.”

"Right beside?"

"Yup."

"When are we going?"

Queenie shifted uncomfortably. We need to think about this, dude. And then we need to decide. And then we need to find a manbag that you can fit into.

"Soon, though?"

"Yes, Percy. Soon."

His smile could have powered Clare Island for several days.