Enter the Minister...

The abomination rose from the murky polluted waters of the Moray Firth and made it's way towards the depraved city of Inverness. The once morally upstanding town had descended into the depths of sordidness once it had attained city status in March 2001. Within a few months lap dancing bars started to appear on the outskirts of the town centre and brothels blossomed like disgusting alien Flora. The streets were ruled by gangs of gun toting Skins, Goths and Metalheads who dealt in hard drugs and prostitution, while the police grew fat on deep fried Scotch pies and bribes.

The amphibious horror shambled onwards, it's huge black eyes showed no sign of human emotion but glinted instead with evil intent... it would mate with a human again tonight and impregnate her with it's deviant offspring!

Three skins stood in the flickering lamplight at their post outside the old Library. They were selling jellies and bags of whizz to wee neds and old grannies alike. Business was slow as the rain pissed down. Another half an hour and it would be off to their local "The Queen Mums Teat" for a few gallons of strong ale and a poke with one of the willing Skinnettes who hung out there.

The Skins spoke in a bastardised mishmash of English and commando book German. "Achtung! Achtung! Ein untermensch! A fucking sea mutant, jesus it smells like rotting fish, kill it, schnell schnell!", Roared a seven foot tall skinhead as he pulled out his Luger and began to fire on the reptilian horror. The Sea-Daemon took three slugs in it's chest and staggered backwards, momentarily stunned, quickly recovering it drew it's own weapon and fired! The death-ray burned the three skins to the bone and they fell to the ground writhing in agony, they would die slowly. The abomination paused to enjoy the stench of burning flesh then continued to move towards it's destination, an all night cafe called "Dark Brews", a little known goth hangout.

The Minister's hand shook as he reached for the bottle of Malt that a parishioner had given him in way of thanks for a particularly fine sermon last Sunday. He had resisted the temptation for days but his resolve was weakening. Just one nip, what harm could it do on this freezing November night, it would ward of the cold and lift his spirits, everything in moderation had always been his motto. Just one wee nip...

The Minister spun the empty whiskey bottle and watched as it slowed down and stopped, it's neck pointing towards him. He felt the mind shattering rage fill his head and new it was time for him to take to the streets once again and do god's work. The ungodly hordes would be taught a lesson this night. He unlocked the old oak chest and withdrew his black rubber body suit (with white collar) and his claw hammers of righteousness. "The filth must be cleansed, the streets made clean for the good folk of Inverness. I must not give up the fight while my heart still beats!"

To be Continued...

The Whippet Episode 1

The Whippet sat on the roof of McKlays guest hoose and surveyed the dimly lit streets of night time Glesga, the city of shattered dreams. Renfrew Street was quiet, and only the odd late night straggler wandered past in an alcoholic daze.

The Whippet wore his customary garb, a Mexican style wrestling mask in mottled brown, a Motorhead T-Shirt, wrangler jeans, cherry-red dock martens with yellow laces and a tattered and weather stained old mackintosh raincoat. His eyes were not as sharp as once they were but his lugs could hear a teardrop at 100 yards and they did not let him down this night. The city at night is a chaotic mass of noise from a million sources but the Whippet used his aural skills to pinpoint the distant scream of a young girl in distress... and yes, there it was the unmistakable double heart beat of the arch pervert of the Galaxy!

The Whippet moved; his great bulk no obstacle to his legendary speed. He leapt over the rooftops of Renfrew street faster than any mortal would believe possible. He soon found himself at the scene of the crime in progress on Hope street.

A young blond plump girl dressed in high-heels a short skirt and a low cut top was being manhandled into an ancient shabby police box, it's blue light throbbed feebly. "Get tae fuck ya old perv!" She screamed. "That's no a time machine ya bam, d'ye think am a spazzie?!?"

"Please be calm my dear child, I offer you a life of adventure and excitement that you would not believe." Said the old gent calmly as he fingered his sonic screwdriver with one hand and ripped the girls top off with the other, revealing a pair of plump ripe breasts, barely covered by a flimsy sheer brassiere. " You can trust me... I'm a doctor!"

The Whippet slammed in to the filthy old codger knocking him for six and pummelled the old perv with his mighty fists. "Phone the Polis!" He ordered the young plump nymphet as he gave "the Doctor" what can only be described as a good solid kicking.
Within minutes the super efficient Glasgow Police arrived in the shape of Police officers Amanda Finebody (24) and ex gymnast Sally Macinally (23). The Whippet accompanied them to the station and watched as The Doctor was locked up and the young victims parents arrived and took the poor wee lamb home.

"Our shift is over Mr. Whippet." announced Amanda. "I share a flat with Sally and we would be honoured if you would come back for coffee and what ever else you fancy."

Later...
... as Sally performed her gold winning gymnastic routine wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy white panties and a boob tube, Amanda's hands wandered over The Whippets impressive hardness...

The End?