There was always a slug on the lettuce. This was too good to be true. He had never trusted Jester, and didn't trust David. He wasn't going to let his gaurd down just yet. Being carful had kept him alive this far. There was no reason to stop being careful now.

No such word as can't. No such word as babagoozle neither!

Tea? Good God, no. It's mud. How the British ever built an empire drinking the filthy stuff is beyond me. And if we carry on drinking it, I've no doubt that the empire won't last much longer. No, a civilized person drinks coffee.

Standing in the corridor was a large plastic bin on wheels. He looked inside. Empty tins of dog food. That explained the spaghetti with meat sauce. Oh well, he'd eaten worse.

We was half stupid, a third lucky, and three-quarters ferocious.

Writing is a bit like being a god

My gran always said I was half clever, half stupid, and half crazy.