Billy was just thinking he ought to call The Enemy when the phone rang. It was The Enemy.

`Hi, this Justin Lastname of The Enemy here. Can I speak to Billy Freeb?`

The Enemy? Justin Lastname of The Enemy? The Justin Lastname of the The Enemy? Billy was not sure what to make of this. On uncountable occasions in the past howevermany years Billy had not called The Enemy. Whenever he was conscious he thought he ought to call The Enemy, but he never actually did. Now they were calling him.

`Yeah, this is Billy Freeb,` he said.

`How`re you doing Billy?` asked Justin, brightly business like. `Your name has been buzzing round the office lately. We at The Enemy are very excited about what you`re doing.`

Billy was picking his nose. He stopped and said `uh.`

`Yeah, we thought we`d do a short number on you. Nothing grand just yet, maybe five hundred or a thousand words, a photo. See how it pans out.`

`Ah.`

`If, of course, you agree. What do you think, Billy?`

`Er . . . How did you find out about me -- my work?` he mumbled at the edifice of awe and fear that had popped up next to the telephone.

`Well I have a big memo right here on my desk, Billy. Makes interesting reading, almost enough for a story but without one crucial thing -- you yourself, Billy.`

`I see . . . As a matter of idle curiosity, do you know why you happen to have a big memo about me on your desk?`

`Oh, I imagine one of our staffers saw one of your gigs and put your name about.`

`I haven`t actually done any gigs,` said Billy. `That`s kinda the point, isn`t it.`

`Oh . . .` the sound of a seismic shift of papers, something heavy toppling, `that`s . . .` and the light summery rustle of memo, `right. Well, I suppose one of our staffers didn`t see one of the gigs you didn`t do and decided to put your name about. So what do you say, Billy? Why don`t we meet for lunch? I . . .`

`Aaaaaaaaaaagh!`