The two lads were just back from breakfast at the local greasy spoon when the doorbell rang.
Spud, looking a lot less green now he'd managed to cage a lighter off the Hell's Angels at the next table, went to open it.
Outside was a gorilla in a monkey suit, and a girl carrying balloons dressed as Marilyn Monroe. As soon as the door was opened she launched into her song.
"Happy Birthday...Mr President... Happy Birthday...tooo yuuuooo!!"
The gorilla very solemnly blew a fanfare on a kazoo, and the girl handed Spud the balloons.
He was lost for words.
"Er... thanks. Bye!" And he closed the door.
Chas had come to see what all the fuss was about.
"Nice balloons," he said.
"Thanks. A gorilla in a dinner jacket gave them to me."
"And a fruit basket as well - someone's got an admirer!"
Spud looked around in confusion. "Fruit basket? Where?"
Chas walked over to the corner of the hall just inside the front door and picked up the basket.
It had a huge lime green bow tied to the handle, and was full of bright pink plastic strips that were supposed to resemble grass. Well, they would have, if they'd been green.
"Hmmm... no card. Mind if I nick a banana?"
"No!" yelled Spud, letting go of the balloons and making a grab for the basket. "Um... er... yes... er... bananas are my favourite," he explained weakly.
"Suit yourself," said Chas, looking up to where the balloons had stuck themselves to the very top of the stairwell.
Spud, looking extremely worried, ran up the stairs, clutching the fruit basket tight to his chest.
"Weirdo!" said Chas to himself. He flexed the fingers of his right hand, and winced. "I wonder if the peas are frozen again."
Over the next two and three quarter hours, Chas opened the door to a door to door vacuum cleaner salesman, three people collecting money for various raffles and charitable causes, the Interflora guy who delivered a huge bouquet of flowers with Nics' name on it, the postman, a male strip-o-gram dressed as a fireman and carrying a large inflatable banana, and no fewer than six pizza delivery guys.
With each ring on the doorbell Spud's music went up even louder, and no amount of hammering on the door would get him out to collect his pizzas.
The strip-o-gram was nearly the last straw as far as Chas was concerned. It eventually took threats of severe bodily harm to make him go away without performing on the doorstep. Chas had seen a lot over his time in the bouncing trade, but that took the biscuit. Or banana, as the case might be.
"Why are you holding a bag of melting frozen peas, mate?" one of the pizza guys had asked.
"Look, just fuck off and take your god-damned pizza with you!" Chas replied, slamming the door in the delivery guy's face.
He didn't answer the door for the next two hours. Until he heard someone very persistent hammering at it.
"Fuck off!" he yelled through the closed door. "We don't want it!"
"Let me in, Chas, you twat! I've forgotten my bloody keys!"
It was Nics' voice. Chas opened the door.
"Sorry, babes," he said quickly. "You would not believe who we've had coming to the door today."
Footsteps hammered down the stairs, and Spud pushed past both of them without any explanation, straight out the front door, and moving faster than either of them had ever seen him move before.
"Was it just me?" asked Nics, "or did Spud look like he had a gerbil glued to his chin?"
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