I prefer my tulips dead.or dying

Like Goran Zebuhr

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It was not uncommon for impromptu auditions to be held at various times and locations as the chaotic beast that was Archaos wound its way around Europe. Walter had found himself in the communal kitchen bus with Gina at 4 in the morning just as an after hours party was dying down and amazed some of the elders by neatly folding a large piece of corrugated iron belonging to the clowns into rudimentary but none the less identifiable flower that he presented with a flourish to a beaming Gina. It was decided there and then that with some small changes this would be incorperated into the show.
Mo looked with incredulity and a little envy at the Archaos “circus tent” which, assembled out of what seemed like miles of knotted white rope, resembled a massive frosted spiders web. As they entered through a more traditional looking pay kiosk various black clad Archaos spiderlings were moving around the structure hurling welcomes and or abuse, it was difficult to say. His schoolboy french did not help in this regard, as no one was asking him the way to the railway station or what was the price of an apple. The whole tent thing was completely open to the elements but luckily it was a cold clear night and the moon was a stage light, stars sparkling in the gaps. In every way it was a magical experience, wondrous, strange and with an edge of danger and menace. 650 wrapped up souls prepared themselves for the unexpected. Seated at the front in excellent seats sat Jer, Mo, Steve, Little legs and Brooksie. They saved a seat , in fact two, for the expected arrival of Walter ,wherever he was.  
“Where can he be” wondered Jer
“ He looked pretty besotted with Gina , maybe he’s backstage” said Steve
Which was correct but not in quite the way they all imagined.
Walter was sitting with Gina who was applying some final touches to his outfit hastily put together during the day to resemble a campish medieval torturer. He was both nervous and exhilarated, the traditional state of the first night performer.
In retrospect it was difficult for the band to remember everything that transpired. Bald headed Margots fish and whips, Cyril the ballet dancing dog man, a driverless black cab containing a fornicating couple, a mini covered in seashells half filled with water crashing into a robin reliant which split in two, a erotic dance of wheelchairs like a tango and bullfight combined, juggling chainsaws and everywhere fire, punk thrash and the smell of amyl nitrate and gasoline. The band were particularly impressed by Juggler Olie who stunned everyone with his ability to light a cigarette by throwing a lighted match behind his back. But nothing could match their shock when at the end of Gina’s highwire act (no rope ladders but fork lift trucks instead) Walter appeared glistening in oil with a leather collar from which 6 inch nails stuck out. They lifted their jaws off the floor to cheer with the rest of the crowd when he repeated his corrugated iron to rose trick followed by an exit with Gina balanced on the top of his head.
Later after a great gig attended by Gina and a number of the Archaos members over beers no one was shocked or indeed unhappy to hear that Walter planned to leave the tour and stay with Gina and Archaos. Everyone partied on into the night, putting the world to rights, swopping stories, laughing inanely until things broke up and Little legs found himself with Walter sitting outside draining a final bottle or two.
“So that’s you then, barely got to know yer and yer offski”
Little legs looked at Walter who was staring at the night sky and though inscrutable as ever somehow giving off a different vibe. Less contained, looser.
“I don’t know me either but I really feel that this is the road I need to go down to find him”
Little legs lifted his glass
“Here’s to happy landings , fucked if I ever found my place. But I’ll tell you this, at this moment in time I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else”
And just as Little legs stretched his eponymous limbs to their disappointing fullness and relished the moment, the Otters ugly face reared up and ruined it.

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