Oct 27th – The Cobweb Cloaked Coven

October 27th
The Cobweb Cloaked Coven

Brian Kilcline was furious. He’d dressed himself up for the Halloween party, like he did every year, and as one of the club’s elder statesmen, he knew that some of the younger players would be looking up to him. He had to get his costume right, and he did. Every year.

He was, as he’d thought to himself at the time, looking pretty fine. Satin shirt, black, open to the navel? Check. Tight black trousers, just a hint of a flare at the bottom? Check. It was the eighties, after all, not. the seventies. Not any more. Little trickle of blood in the beard? Check. It was the details that mattered, after all. Majestic hair swept back, gelled in place, with just a hint of the vampire beneath? Check. And finally, to cap it all of, a cobwebbed cloak. His wife had put the final stitches in that morning. With that wrapped around him, he really looked the business. A few pints to be sunk, and a good time to be had by all.

And there he was, the next morning, splashed on the back page of the paper, pint in hand, with a couple of his team mates. They were all looking quite good, him especially. The paper was on the mat when he came down the stairs that morning to let the dog out, folded in half.

‘Cobweb Cloaked Coven’

He didn’t even need to turn it over to know what the rest was going to say;

‘-try City Captain Leads The Way’

or words to that effect.

But when he turned the paper over, there was nothing. A misprint, or something. Half a picture, half a headline missing. And if it was missing on his paper, then it would be missing on everyone’s. What was the point in making all that effort, only for the local rag to screw it up?

He was still standing on the doormat, misprinted paper in hand, when the phone on the table b6 the door rang. It was Cyrille Regis.

“Brian? What’s a ‘Coven’?”

Brian Kilcline was furious.

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