The kitchen was by now a hotbed of energy: food, smell, fear and of course, Phill's rat's vomit on toast. It was however, going to get worse, for Selwyn was about to enter. In he walked, trying to disguise himself as a gorilla in his ridiculous 'funny where I come from' gorilla slippers. Hahaha. Yes, well. A Sheffield lad, Selwyn unfortunately had a complete ugly twat of an accent. He was also well known as a completely boring old tart, whose whole life was a routine of: getting up early, going for a run, eating some super noodles, going to lectures eating more super noodles, pretending to play cricket, eating super noodles, going on pretend blind dates (luckless), eating super noodles, and still managing to find the time for 18 hours sleep per day. He went out for a pint once, or so he claimed.

"Morning Selwyn!" exclaimed Tad, still seeming to be a not very scary person at all.

"Am staavin' 'ungry." he replied, beginning to make his usual breakfast (half pack of super noodles to make sure his weight didn't climb above 6 stone).

"Y'can 'ave some o' moin if y'loik. Hmmph!" screamed Phill, knowing full well that everybody else in the world would rather lick an old lady's ass than eat something that he'd made.

"Ummm. No. Umm. It's alright. Umm. Am staavin' 'ungry. Umm. Crickeet. Um Yorkshire. Crickeet, staavin' 'ungry. Sowper Nowdles..." was all Selwyn could manage in reply.

"Shaddap Redpants!" shouted Big Man Tayls, who was tucking into his fourth starter, a side of elephant, "You're jast a cant! You listen to shit music! You eat shit! You've got cum on yer pants! Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!"

Tayls was clearly in his 'morning mood', his usual mood that was, a bit like an all day breakfast. That is to say his morning mood lasted all day. Come to think of it though, if he had the chance to eat breakfast all day, he most certainly would, the only problem being that he would also want brunch lunch, dinner, tea, supper and midnight snack at the same time. 'How would the world cope when this man was fully grown?' was the type of question that Morrissey might ask, and Lynden pondered it too.

He also had other things on his mind though, like Selwyn's name. He had acquired the suffix 'Redpants' as a result of an episode in which he had stripped down to his cute little M&S red briefs to impress some rough girls, because he was a "proper Full Monty Sheffield lad, erm, Sheffield..... ummm, crickeet" and had acquired, or shall we say 'come upon' a sort of stain on his little pants, and on his character. While Tayls mocked and shouted, and Tad sat quietly sniggering in the corner (again uncharacteristically), Selwyn blushed and muttered something about "sowper crickeet nowdles".

Phill Opielercurry clearly had his mind on other things. He would not speak his mind, for that would be far too normal a thing to be in his mouth, but Lynden knew what Phill was thinking. He was obviously trying to think of a way that he could incorporate Selwyn's excessive supply of seminal fluid into one of his astounding recipes; perhaps as a cream to go with his 'corned beef surprise' or maybe simply to blend in with his highly inventive 'cold rice pudding from a tin'. Phill was of course well known for his food inventions, mainly because they smelled so badly. As he sat, twitching quite a lot, he was doubtless recalling the infamous time when he and his friend Elgan the Elegant, went outside and collected all the mud from the bike tyres in Talybont, mixed it with Unit Manager Dorothy Cashflow's sweat, and of course some corned beef, and made the original dish, 'mud-sweat-corned-beef surprise'. There was so much of it that Phill had to freeze half; not before carving his name into it of course. Tayls was now bored, with it having been at least two minutes since he picked an argument with somebody.

"Shaddap Selwyn! Sheffield's shit!" he bawled with almost perfect sibilance.

"Ummm, crickeet." replied Selwyn. "Shaddap! Full of wankers! Nothing good in it!"


"Well, why's it good?"

"Sowper Nowdles, crickeet, staavin' 'ungry. Very good meat pies."

"What? Did you jast mention pies? Shaddap! You're not allowed to say things like that you wanker! Tad, pass me the fridge!"

"Sorry, err , got carried away, umm, crickeet...[and so on]."

"That was good loik! Hmmph," said Phill as he got up and took all his crockery, cutlery and left over food back to his room, where he was quite obviously going for a wank. The remaining Flatmates sat looking at one another. The missing one, Joey, was yet to surface from his room. They sat in wait.....


1999 Vance Productions. 'The Flatmates' is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed herein are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead is purely coincidental. Flatmates cuddly toys are now available at special price to all subscribers. Enquiries, and all correspondence should be by email to VanceProductions.