Frank had long since come to the conclusion that we are all mad. When you look at it objectively and impasionately. With that fact established, then why not have fun? Too many times he had tried and failed to represent this particular ideology in such a way that his enemies would come to understand it. However failure was starting to seem like a permanent fixture in these little adventures he liked to call "operational maneuvers".

He had been physically removed, dragged like this from busses and other forms of public transport on more occaisions than he cared to recall right now. With the plastic bag pulled hard across his face like this it was difficult to explain. "How dare you!" he gurgled. "Public transport is clearly the correct forum for my expression!", but it seemed to come out less coherently than that.

And there he was, standing alone at a bus stop somewhere in Ravensthorpe with no obvious place to go. Then the rain came.