The Society of Illuminati Code Krackers

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London

Harry is licking the back of my neck and breathing heavily.

His tongue feels a weird actually...

It's tiny and moist and the way he's repeatedly licking the back of my hairline repetitively isn't very nice at all....

I prise one eye open blearily, peeling my cheek away from the soggy drool spot I've made on the pillow.

It isn't Harry licking the back of my neck of course, it's one of Glens smaller doggy daycare dogs. Ernest.

He's a terrier with an obsession with chewing hair who can open my bedroom door. I push him away quickly and fumble with the large, wet knot of hair that he's created on the back of my head.

"There you are!" Glen calls from the doorway, as if we don't repeat this same process every morning.

"Can you not shut him up somewhere?" I scowl, passing the dog over to him. Glen's wearing a Winona Ryder t-shirt and some lycra leggings, a sure sign that he's been running this morning. Glen has suddenly developed a huge interest in health and fitness, ever since he set eyes on the extremely buff new barista at the coffee shop... Glen dons his sports clothes and 'runs' as far as the coffee shop (which is on the corner of our road) every morning.

"My glutes are killing me." He sighs theatrically, flopping down onto my bed and handing me a coffee.

"Do you even know where your glutes are, Glen?" I mutter, rolling my eyes and sipping the froth from the top of the cup.

"Yes, thank you very much, Lennon." He sniffs haughtily and adjusts the little dog on his knee.

"Where are they then?"

"Where are what?" He stalls.

"Your glutes, come on then, Mr motivator, tell me where they are."

"Ok, fine, I don't have a clue where or what they are and I couldn't give a monkeys arse..." He says excitedly, "but listen to this, Justin, that's coffee shop dude, has asked me if I want to go for a run with him tomorrow morning!"

"Seriously?" I groan, "I hope you said no-"

"I said yes! Duh! He said it was so rare to encounter someone who was so dedicated to fitness-"

"But you're not! You literally walk to the coffee shop every morning in sports gear! Didn't you say that he runs marathons as a hobby?!"

"I knew you'd be like this." He sighs, sitting heavily on the bed beside me. "How hard can it be to run around the park a couple of times?"

"Glen. Remember when you pretended to be a goth to impress that dude and he abandoned you in a field when he found out the truth?"

"Well that could have happened to anyone-"

"And the time you pretended to be a radical eco-hippy to impress that other bloke... What was his name again? Slug?"

"Sludge." He mutters sulkily.

"That's right. And you ended up getting arrested for breaking into the nuclear plant-"

"Well, in my defense, that was a very good cause. And I thought I suited dreadlocks surprisingly well." He points out archly.

"Right. And the time you pretended to be a huge fan of traditional Japanese theatre and had to sit through a 9 hour performance with... Mario, wasn't it?"

"Hm." He sniffs.

"Oh and the time that you pretended to be connected to the Kray twins and nearly ended up part of a huge international drugs deal-"

When Lennon met Harry Where stories live. Discover now