Tink and Manual are sitting at the side of a large container.
“Ok, now to find out who owns the big ice cream company” says Tink “and then to tell them that we’ve got the drivers and if they don’t get out of town by noon tomorrow, well then we’ll have to get nasty”.
“You don’t mean?” Says Manual.
“Yes,” says tink, “we melt the stock”. Manual turns a funny shade of grey.
“We can’t do that Tink. It’d be like stealing candy from babies”
“If we don’t we’ll never get the house, we’ll spend the rest of our short lives sleeping in the back of an old, rusty, clapped out ice cream van”
“Why did you say “short” lives?”
“’cos if I have to put up with your snoring for much longer I'm going to end up killing you”.
“I don’t snore” says Manual, looking shocked.
“How would you know, you sleep right through it all”
“I DO NOT SNORE!” Says manual, with a look of hurt on his face.
“You snore so loud that the local council wants to know where we keep the asthmatic warthog”.
Manual sticks his nose in the air and turns his head away from Tink.
“Don’t go in a huff about it, I was just letting off steam that’s all” says Tink, knowing that he’d offended Manual.
“I’m not talking to you” says Manual.
“You sure?” Asks Tink.
“Positive” replies Manual.
“Fine then” says Tink, a tone of derision audible in his voice.
“Fine” says Manual “so we’re agreed that I’m not talking to you then?”
“Fine by me” says Tink, slipping his hand into his pocket to pull out a strawberry flavour candy cane. “Want a piece?”.
“No”
“Sure?”
“Positive”
“As positive about that as you are about not talking to me”
“Even more so” Manual’s face changes from an annoyed look to a look of sudden realisation. “You tricked me” he says.
There is a loud groan from within the container and Tink stands up and walks to the door and peers inside. There are eight, bound and gagged, ice cream drivers sprawled over the cold steel floor. One of them is stirring. Tink walks over, lifts the drivers’ head and asks; “who owns the big ice cream company?”.
The driver replies by groaning loudly and indicating that he has a gag on and therefore can’t reply. Tink takes great satisfaction in pulling the duck tape off of the drivers’ mouth. “AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!” Screams the red-faced driver.
Tink looks at the tape he’s holding in his hand and winces “I bet that hurt?”
“What do you think you stupid little...” the driver begins to say.
Outside the container Manual hears a noise similar to someone having his head banged on a steel container floor.
Tink emerges from the container. Still carrying the tape.
“Where did you get the false beard?” Asks manual.
“It wasn’t false, but I guess it is now”.
Tink toss's the tape aside and stands in front of Manual.
“Lets go to one of the ice cream vans and see if we can find a clue as to who owns them” Says Tink.
Tink and Manual get into their van and drive off.
The battered old ice cream van pulls up beside the van parked at the boating lake. Its back doors are wide open and there are sweets and crisps littered all over the surrounding area.
“There goes the idea of melting all the stock” says Tink.
“I thought it was really easy to steal candy from kids”
“Who ever thought that mustn’t have lived around here” says tink, kicking a half-empty packet of crisps. “Lets see if we can find a clue to who owns the company, check the glove compartment”.
Manual steps in and walks to the front of the empty van.
“Find anything?” Says Tink.
“Just a pair of gloves” says Manual, holding them up so Tink can see them. “A Chinese cookbook, And a book of matches”.
“A Chinese cookbook?” Asks Tink.
“Yes. it’s called, 100 ways to wok your dog”
“Throw me the matches” says Tink as he stoops to pick up a packet of cigars that is lying on the ground (which is not very far for a man as short as he is).
Manual tosses the book of matches to Tink. Tink pops a cigar in his mouth and lights it.
“That’s the idea of finding a clue knackered then” he puts the book of matches and the pack of cigars in his pocket.
“It’s getting late, lets go get some sleep”.

To be continued.....

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