Me: Not great, a Stormtrooper just stole my lunchbox.
Me: I know. Dark.
Dekker: It's always awkward when that happens.
Me: Every time.
Dekker: Thing is, you'll never be able to catch him. Mask. Can't identify him.
Me: He was freakishly short. I'd spot the plastic bastard.
And that's the story of how I creeped the shit out of a cute midget.
Just to elaborate, I wasn't making an attempt to be 'ZANY AND RANDOM', a Stormtrooper actually stood in my path and nicked the lunchbox tucked under my arm. He only gave it back when I told him they weren't the sandwiches he was looking for.
the only joan under the age of 70. lives for postmodern literature, sushi, pin-up, red lipstick, white wine, philosophy, 80s films, green tea, snuggies, musicals, olives, christian theology, wonder woman, cats, debate, downton abbey, cornwall, mcdonalds' breakfasts, dystopian science fiction, classic rock, vast quantites of caramel latte, tom cruise in assless chaps, criminal minds, apricot face scrub, cheese boards, bette davis, feminism, laughing at mormons, rare steak. reading english at exeter, cornwall campus. lives in a chapel. loves boys with afros. hates ginger sisters.