The telephone rings :- please log in to view this image Its Carly Ray Jepson on the phone to Uncle Ken, and he's taking her out for a meal at Howards Restaurant in Leeds. But things are not as they seem.... (Characters to include all Not606ers) To be continued.....
...because she's actually the daughter of Leeds coach Ronnie Jepson, and has been sent on an undercover assignment to extract sensitive information about the takeover so that Warnock and his backroom boys can enjoy their holidays in peace. However Ken has a very forceful manner, and she can't help but find herself strangely enthralled by the twinkle in his experienced eye as they enjoy their meal at the award-winning, and quite romantically-lit environment of Howards Restaurant. "You know, my sweet, it's been too long since I broke bread with a woman as beautiful as you," Ken purred after plying his young date with her sixth glass of his finest Pouilly-Fume, moving his hand slowly over to hers and flashing his trademark cheeky grin in her direction. He still had the moves. She looked back at him, wondering what this feeling was that had overcome her so suddenly, so spontaneously. As if all her father had said recently was simply yet more lies. Moving around the country to support her Ronnie's roaming employment as a football coach had taken its toll on young Carly Ray. Constantly moving from one social circle to another, losing friends and relationships in the process. And now this 'assignment'? Screw daddy, she thought. It's time to have some fun. And it was in this moment that she realized the feeling was not one of the customary bitterness - it was of the bitterness melting away, finally relieving her of the stresses of the world as she held the septuagenarian's loving hand. She was free all of a sudden, excited about the prospects of the future. Could she be the Barbie to Ken's Ken? Settle down in Monaco and finally get the lifestyle she deserved? They finished their meal, conversing amiably yet intimately, and Ken threw the bill back at the maitre-d', chortling. "Underling Fry, come and collect the plates, you radi pig," Bates ordered. The Yorkshire Radio director hurried over straight away, performing the usual curtsy in his employer's direction. "Right away, Mr Chairman." Ken and Carly Ray made their way outside, the West Yorkshire sun setting behind the scenic Ticket Office outside the West Stand. The young maiden was overwhelmed, gasping "what a view this is, Ken" at the increasingly-confident man at her side. "Here, my pretty, take this coat, you're looking cold all of a sudden," the shrewd businessman proffered, taking her by the hand as he strolled over to his car. "And I can't have that, can I? You know young thing, you look like you could do with some company for the rest of the night - are you sure you wouldn't care for coffee at mine?" She simply couldn't refuse - her whole body was tingling all of a sudden in anticipation. "Well I thought you'd never ask!" Ken stroked her slender legs as they made their way to his City Centre flat, and they locked lips with passion upon arriving. Not another word was said as they made their way in, Bates' beardy wiles coming as a great advantage. He pushed her against the kitchen wall, kissing and sucking on her tender neck as she cooed in sweet delight. She could inhibit herself no more, tearing off her remaining attire and sitting beholden on the residence's finest chaise longue, summoning Ken to her fleshy entry-point. The old fox was never going to refuse, unbuttoning the fly of his corduroys and unleashing the beast from within. "Mmm," Carly Ray found herself saying, "I've always liked a good pork chop for supper," dripping with sexual emotion as she stroked his admittedly-sub-average man bollard. She wrapped her mouth around the dry, somewhat-flaky glans as she sought to lubricate the piston before entry to her machine operation, not neglecting to give the wrinkly old scrotum the attention it deserved. Not long after, coitus was initiated as Old Ken thumbed in his protrusion and began to thrust. Moans and gasps were forced from Carly Ray's mouth as she was vigorously wolf-****ed by the oldest swinger in town, trying to look away from Ken's quite unarousing sex face as he contorted his old nose, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his eyes jammed shut as he revelled in this long-coveted carnal delight...
Suddenly Ken woke up, it had all been a dream. He changed out of his seaman stained clothes and boarded the Bates express towards ???? please log in to view this image
And, of course, Jerel had already beaten him to the punch, using the money earned from his extremely successful series of erotic novels...
...to front a not606 consortium aiming to return Millwall to their Scottish roots, which included Simon, Whitejock and Boab in a 'special' scouting role and connection into inside info across the wider football world. Stage One of the Tartan Strategy: sign up Scotch superstar Neill Collins on a free. But suddenly there was an obstruction to their noble plan when a bunch of Millwall fans from Italy, Spain, Palaceland and Benderland began to... [Glad some of you enjoyed my slightly unhinged writing by the way]
[Don't worry, the scouting/connections role was strictly reserved for Boab. You'd be more like the Malcolm Tucker of the operation.]
Please don't tell me you've not watched The Thick Of It! An absolute must for all Scots. Peter Capaldi's sweary PR man is the best export your nation's ever come up with, aside from all them Leeds players and that.
Think there's a few bevvy merchants worldwide that would disagree with you there! (And no, I didn't know his name. Know the character, but not his name).
