Them neutragenomes is nippy little shaggers, remarked the elderly gentleman as he contemplated a large whiskey.
Excuse me? I replied.
Fast. They goes like the clappers, straight through solid rock. Nothin stops em. Nothin. Jesus, didn’t they fire em out of that Massive Hard-on Collector, straight at the Eye-talians. Bang! Bang! Bang! One after another and Christ Almighty what do you think happened?
I’m sure you’ll tell me.
Quicker than a flash, they all come screamin through the side of a mountain and arrived before themselves. They went so fast, they were sittin down havin a cuppa tea before they even got there. And a nice bun to go with it. Them Eye-talian fellas was all sayin “Mama Mia, for why you little neutragenomes is comin so soon we not expectin you for a couple more microbe seconds”. Oh, I’m tellin ya, the neutragenomes is the lads all right.
Fascinating, I agreed.
Whizz! Just like that. Whizz!! They comes flyin outa the sun, Whizz!! Straight through you and you don’t know nothin about it. Whizz!! The whole time. And here’s the thing. They tells you who’s goin to win the 3:30 at Chepstow and who scores the winner tomorrow in Old Trafford. They sends Irritators out of the future.
You mean Terminators?
No. Irritators. They fills in your crossword before you open the paper and they hides one sock out of the dryer.
I was intrigued. Why would they do that?
Because they can, he winked and took a sip of his whiskey.
You seem strangely familiar, I told him. Have we met?
He fixed me with a glittering eye for a long moment before replying. You could put it that way, he said.