I SPY ON EBAY

Hi Kid. On Monday Tommy my cat and I got up at half past four to await another week of GREAT SHOWS.

To while away the time we played, I SPY. After two hours, the game ended in a nil, nil draw. Tommy couldn't guess that I was looking at him and I couldn't guess that Tommy was looking at me! I know! What are the chances of that happening?

As the wind howled like a banshee, rain drummed on the roof and tumble weeds, caught in a flash flood surged past my window, I put on a video and Tommy and I sang along with Cliff Richard as he crooned, SUMMER HOLIDAY. The big red bus was brilliant in that film.Why it didn't get an oscar nomination I'll never know. As I idly flicked through the Sunday papers, Tommy switched on the computer, turned to me and said, "I say old thing, I haven't had a chance to glance at the Sunday papers yet. What would you say are the main news stories?"

"It's hard to say," I replied. "It was a busy week for news, but if pushed, I suppose the two items that caught my eye were

"KITTENS. FREE TO GOOD HOME" and

"PETROL CAN MAN SEEKS SPOUSE. MUST BE NON SMOKER."

"Good for him," said Tommy. "The petrol can man, must have a full collection of petrol cans and has now decided to settle down."

"I can see them now." I said, "sitting on an orange Harry Corry sofa, staring with pride and satisfaction at display cases of-petrol cans."

"Bliss." said Tommy. "What more could a man want?"

I looked at Tommy and said,

"Anything strange or startling on eBay?"

"Funny you should ask," said Tommy.

"I am just looking at an ankle sock that belonged to-Donna Trainor."

"What does it say Tommy!" I yelled. "Don't just sit there! What does it say!"

Tommy slipped his reading glasses over his sticky-up ears and read,

"Ankle sock. Can be worn on either foot. Once belonged to one of Newsline's premier newscasters, Donna Trainor. Starting bid, 99pence, no bids yet, five days to run."

"It's too good to be true!" I yelled. "It must be a fake."

"NO, it's not," said Tommy. "Listen to this,

"This ankle sock is the genuine article. Comes with certificate stating that DNA from the hand of Noel Thompson was found on the ankle sock that once clung like a limpet to the slender, shapely shin of, Donna Trainor."

"What are you waiting for?" I yelled. "Slap a bid of £100 pounds on it.
It will go lovely with my framed mink thong as worn by Julian Symmons."

Tommy, mused, pondered and said,

"I wonder if the DNA from the hand of Pamela Ballentine was found on the thong of Jul......"

"Don't go there!" I yelled. "Bad Tommy. Bad, bad Tommy. Go to your bed. I'll give you a call when Gerry comes on." But it does make you think!-- NO! NO! It's not possible.

"Bad, bad Tommy. Go to your bed, before I skelp the backs of your legs."

All this and more have I seen as the mountains of Mourne sweep down to see Noel Thompson leap stiles with the grace, agility and animalistic splendor of a mountain goat. As Noel cantered off to butt heads with other mountain goats, I was left sad and lonely. Only the heavy scent of musk in the air to remind me of Noel Thompson and his amazing,unnatural ability to leap stiles.

Multi-talented, that's what Noel Thompson is, multi-talented!