Fifteen Shades of Sweets... A Neurotic Navel.
Chapter One Vernant Spatchmole was angry, not a big red face, blotchy, sweaty angry, but a sullen, moody, James Dean with a ciggy hanging out of his mouth rebel-without-a-cause angry. He knew that this dark look would attract the girls, that and his bulging bank account that throbbed with activity. Yet he remained elusive, an as yet untainted gentleman, whose only venture into true depravity came when he bought a Vauxhall Agila (Slogan: The car so shit, even crap old drivers won't bother with it) and then sold it a few days later to act as a water feature to a braless Charlie Dimmock. Sat opposite him was a nubile young woman, with breasts, that were bouncing up and down as she breathed huskily. She was meant to be interviewing him for her first assignment for "Cock" magazine, but had spent most of the morning simply in awe of his magnificent presence. Her name was Joanna Pohkme, an up and coming young journalist who had earned this placement on "Cock" t...