Amethyst Cartoons
Chapter 4-
The Fisher of Men
-Follow Me
 

Edward woke up at 7.16am and twenty three seconds, to the sound of a roaring motor. He nearly fell out of bed because of the shock. He clambered to his feet, and rushed outside. There, he saw Farmer Paul driving a massive combine harvester across his field of wheat.
“Ooh-Ar! Hope oi didn’t wake yer, lad!”
Edward scratched his messy hair and smiled.
“Er…no. Don’t worry. I always get up at this time!”
This was in fact, a massive lie. Edward had never seen a clock at 7.16am, unless he was out all night at a party, and stayed up until then. But he had never woken up before 7.16am. There was the time in two thousand and two, when he woke up after having a nightmare. It was almost an exact duplicate of the film ‘The Birds’, except it was with squirrels. And Edward also had three feet. But he woke up at 7.15, and fell asleep again almost instantly, so that doesn’t count.
“Good t’hear it lad! Oi’ll be making eggs n’bacon again, roight after oi’m done with this, and oi’ve been down to the shops.”
“Brilliant. Thank you.”
“You moight as well have a bath or whatever you townsfolk do in the mornin’. Yer got a busy day ahead.”
“Alright then” Said Edward, as he left to go into the five-star bathroom.
So, Edward showered, cleaned his teeth, but decided not to use the deodorant. He didn’t have any on him, and the only one there was ‘Old Spice. Smell like an old person!’ Edward left it and decided to risk his own body odours. He was just pulling his shirt on, when there was another engine roar outside. Again, he darted outside to see what the noise was.
This time, it wasn’t a combine harvester. Paul was revving up one of the slickest looking sports cars Edward had seen in his life. It was bright blue, and glimmered in the sunlight. It was a convertible, and the roof was down. Paul was wearing sunglasses under his straw hat.
“Purty, isn’t it?” Paul shouted over the motor.
“It’s…er…very nice!” Edward stammered, unable to bear with the fact that a farmer owned such a spectacular car.
“Oi Got it at a sale. This was all they ‘ad left, but it does the job!”
Edward was amazed that Paul almost seemed disappointed by the car. The nearest Edward came to a car like that, he was hit by it when crossing the road. He didn’t care that it has broken one of his legs. He was astounded and felt great pride in the fact that he was hit by such a car.
“Oi’m off to get the groceries, okay?”
“Okay.” Shouted Edward, putting his thumb up, in case Paul didn’t hear him. With that, Paul slammed his foot onto the acceleration, and Edward watched as the car shot off down the fields, towards the city. It wasn’t long before Edward could only see a dust cloud in the distance.
For twenty minutes, Edward sat inside, reading his Bible to see what he should do about finding his first four disciples, and about what Jesus said. Edward thought that if Jesus’ words were good enough to get four men to follow him, then they’d be good enough to get four men to follow Edward.
It wasn’t long before Edward heard the familiar roar of Paul’s convertible.
Edward raced outside to see the car pull up.
“That was quick.” Edward commented
“Yup. This baby does nought to sixty in three seconds.”
Edward could only gaze in wonder at what he could only describe as a ‘Super Car’.
Paul stretched his arm to the seat behind him, and lifted a brown paper bag out of it. He held it towards Edward.
“Yer couldn’t take these in, could yer?”
Edward took the bag and went back into the house, while Paul parked the car.
A few minutes later, Paul re-entered the house.
“Roight. I’m make breakfast!”
Paul pulled out the bacon and eggs from his brown sack, and switched on of the hobs on, on his ancient stove. Paul also took out some bread, jam, apples, baked beans, chocolate, pasta, and a ‘Slick-Hair shampoo’, with the motto “Because I’m worthless!” printed all over it.
While the bacon and eggs were frying, Edward went back to reading his Bible.
“Revisin’ yer words then?” Paul inquired
“Pardon?...Oh, right. Yes. I’m seeing what Jesus said to the fishermen to make them follow him. I feel I should use them. Firstly to make the re-enactment more accurate, but also to make it work.
“Ooh-Ar! Tha’s tough that. Tryin’ to get those fishermen to follow you on yer journey. But you moight as well try. No harm in doin’ so.”
“Maybe I should offer some money to them if they follow me?” Edward suggested. “It may help convince them.”
Paul vigorously shook his head.
“Nah, yer don’t wanna do that, lad. They’re pirates down thar. They’ll have yer fer all yer money yer own, lad. Best keep it hidden and see what they make of followin’ yer for nothin’.”
Edward nodded.
“Okay then. But what if they refuse?”
“Tell ‘em they’ll burn in hell? That’s what Jesus taught, didn’t he?”
“I don’t think so, well, not from any of the Bible’s I’ve read”
“Well, thar be plenty of fishermen in the sea, so don’t worry if yer can’t find any at the start. Ooh-Ar!”
Both of them then sat down to a plate of bacon and eggs, and a flagon of icy-cold milk. Just the thing Edward needed to start his day.

Later that morning, at eleven AM, Edward had packed his stuff and was ready to journey to the lake. Paul had offered to give Edward a lift there, in his convertible. Edward couldn’t remember much after that. The last thing he remembered was he lying in his bed, with Paul waving smelling salts under his nose, talking about how he blacked out.
Edward climbed into the front of the blue convertible, feeling like royalty. He savoured the moment that he sat down on the soft leather seats. He slowly ran his fingers along the smooth sides and the dashboard in front of him. He nearly choked on the smell of the ‘farmyard air freshener’, which was like the pine tree ones which hang in most cars, except it was in the shape of a tractor.
Paul sat in the driver’s seat, and it wasn’t long before they were tearing along the distance which Edward walked in three hours, in about two minutes. Edward felt the wind blowing through his hair, and decided to lean out the side of the car to feel the full force of the wind blowing in his face. This wasn’t his best idea though, as a pigeon suddenly collided with his face, and he spent many seconds trying to prise it off. It was chaos. Edward was leaning out one side of the car, going at one hundred and sixty miles per hour, waving his arms about like a lunatic, with a pigeon glued to his face. He eventually removed the pigeon, and set about feeling the wind again. But almost as soon as he started again, and in another explosion of feathers, a second pigeon had collided with him. After that, Edward decided it was safer to sit behind the windscreen again.
Then, after about three minutes, Edward could see the lake coming into view. It was a massive lake, and Edward saw many small silhouettes of boats sailing and fishing there.
“Ooh-Ar! Loads’o people thar! You should ‘ave no trouble getting’ a few of ‘em to help yer.” Shouted Paul.
And one minute later, Edward had reached the shore. He thanked Paul, and slowly climbed out of the car, as if he was exiting a limo onto a red carpet.
“Good luck with yer quest!” Shouted Paul
“Thanks!”
“Ooh-Ar!” and waving goodbye, he tore off into the distance, back to his farm. Edward envied Paul’s simple life, but he had vowed he would fulfil this re-enactment, and turned to face the mighty lake.

Most of the boats were far away from the shore, and therefore, was difficult to reach. Edward looked around, hoping to see a boat closer to shore, one that he could talk to on dry land. Fortunately, luck was on his side. In the distance, there was a boat with two men in it. It was only about fifteen yards from shore, so Edward would be able to call to them easily.
He raced down the shore at high speed, eager to try and convince these people to follow him. He wondered what they would be like. Kind men? Rich men? Poor men? Door men? Grumpy men? Lucky Men? Plucky men? Businessmen? Salesmen? Mr Men? Thoughtful men? Fashionable men? Cool men? Pool men? School men? Killer men? Thriller men? Snow men? Slow men? Fast men? Service men? Office men? Lifeboat men? Hit men? Fit men? Yes men? Magic men? Holy men? Dead men? Red men? Weather men? Even just normal men!
But by the time he approached the shore, his smile faded. The men in the boat weren’t any of the above.
Edward had remembered that Paul had told him that the people in the lake were pirates…But he had never thought that Paul had meant it literally.
Yes, there in the boat, was a pirate. He had the hat, the eye patch, the hook, he even went to the trouble of gluing a wooden parrot onto his left shoulder.
Next to him was a shorter, stockier man. He looked like something out of a fish finger advert. He was dressed exactly like a sailor, and had a thick, furry white beard to match.
The pirate was looking out of a telescope.
“Arg! Avast behind!”
The sailor next to him sighed.
“Oh for goodness sake, Peter. Will you stop looking at the women and help me row this damn boat!”
“Ar, you’re no fun. You know that first mate?”
“Look, for the last time, I’m not your first mate. I’m your brother.”
“Arg. Same thing.”
The sailor went red in the face, and looked as if he was about to explode.
“No, it’s not the same thing! A first mate is someone you boss around! A brother is one you boss around and beat up. There’s a vital difference!”
The pirate frowned
“Listen lad. Don’t make me take this fishing rod and stuff it up yer…”
Edward interrupted them.
“Hello there!”
Both men looked around at him. Edward waved
“Hi!”
The two men looked at each other and nervously waved back. The pirate was the first one to speak.
“ARG! Who be you, landlubber!”
“You’re a landlubber too” The sailor muttered
“AR! Mutiny, so it is? At least oi’m a pirate, and not some washed up fish finger man” Shouted the pirate, prodding the sailor in the chest.
“You take that back!” Bellowed the sailor, standing up to level with the pirate.
The pirate held up his hook in front of the sailor.
“Make me.”
“Make me, make you”
“Make me, make you, make me!
“Make me, make you, make me, make you”
“Make me, times a thousand”
“Make…”
“Jinx, no comebacks!” Shouted the pirate with glee, knowing that he’s won the argument.
Edward tried to talk to them again.
“Excuse me, can you stop arguing and listen to what I have to say!”
“Up yours!” Screamed the sailor
Then they both returned to their argument, bickering like two old women. Edward sighed and put his head into his hands. Did he really want these two as disciples? He repeatedly tried to get their attention, but they just fired abusive comments. In the end, it got to a point where he had to stop, after they had fired over a hundred swear words at him in a single sentence. Most of them too crude to mention here. Edward had to make them stop arguing soon, otherwise it would be a case of fisticuffs. Well, more like fisti-hooky-cuffs. It was also only a small rowing boat, so it wasn’t like both the men had room to fight. Even as they stood up, arguing, the boat rocked menacingly side-to-side.
In the end, Edward became so annoyed, he picked up the flattest stone he could find, and hurled it towards them. Causing it to skim as he did so. The stone hit the pirate on the leg.
“ARG! Who threw that!?”
The pirate’s head darted round and locked onto Edward. He could feel the single eye of the pirate penetrating him. The pirate growled.
“You did…you li’l bastard! I’ll teach you! Just you wait ‘till I get my hands on you! I’ll keel haul you, you ruddy bastard!”
Edward wasn’t sure what was happening. But the next thing he knew, an oddly shaped object was skimming towards him at high speed. He tried to see what it was, but he found out too late, when a wet object had smacked him in the face, causing him to be sent flying backwards. The first thing to hit Edward, apart from the wet object, was the absolute stench which resonated from it. He wondered if the pirate had thrown his socks or something, but nothing could imitate a strong fishy smell that a fish could. Edward prised the massive salmon off his face, and threw it in the water. Over in the boat, the two brothers were roaring with laughter. At least they weren’t fighting now.
Edward got to his feet, and dried as much of his face as possible with his shirt. He now had the strong smell of fish clinging rebelliously to him, unleashing a pungent smell. He looked up at the brothers in hysterics.
“Great, now I’ve got your attention, can you listen to what I have to say, please?”
But the two men were now entrenched in deep hysterics. They both collapsed, and were lying on the deck of the boat, laughing loudly.
“Did you…did you see the fish…HA HA HA! It…it went….PLLLP!” laughed the pirate, waving his hands as he made the strange ‘PLLLP’ noise. “It went….it went….right in his face…” And he fell into more fits of laughter.
Ten minutes went on, and the last few laughs in them finally shot out of them, and their hysterics came to a gradual halt. Edward quickly capped his hands and started his conversation again.
“Great! Now that I finally have your…”
But the two men had started giggling, suppressing their laughter, and it wasn’t long before they had fallen into hysterics again. Edward sat down and made himself comfortable. This was going to be a long day.
After ½ an hour of Edward listening to the brother’s laughs. They finally cam to a halt. Edward looked hopefully at them, to see if they had stopped completely. Fortunately, they had.
As the pirate stood up, he turned to his brother. “Arg! I can’t remember what we was arguing about again.”
Edward answered him, not realising the trouble he’d be unearthing.
“You called him a washed up fish finger advertiser. Now, where was I…”
The sailor stood up.
“That’s right! You insulted me! You take that back!”
“Ar! I ain’t taking no insult back!”
Edward finally exploded.
“SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME YOU SAD MORONS!”
The two brothers looked round at him.
Edward let out a huge sigh of relief, glad that he finally got their attention.
“Look, my name is Edward…”
“I don’t care if ye be called Davy Jones...” Sneered the pirate, his brother shushed him.
“And I’m re-enacting Jesus’ life.” He announced.
The pirate suddenly came alert.
“You’re Jesus!? Holy shit! I must repent my sins!”
And with that, he leapt into the water, and furiously splashed his way over to Edward. Edward had never seen anyone swim so quickly before.
The sailor shouted at his brother.
“Yeah, that’s right! Leave me to do the rowing!”
He took the oars in his hands and started paddling his way to the shore, muttering under his breath about how lazy his brother was.
The pirate soon came onto dry land, and knelt down in front of Edward. “Arg! I’ve been a bad pirate. I’ve kept some of the booty I found, I commit mutiny, and I steal other people’s boats and make them walk the plank, even the kiddie paddle ones. I’ve got six of them at home, if you want me to give ‘em back.”
Edward pulled the pirate to his feet.
“No, you’ve got me all wrong. I’m not Jesus himself, I’m just re-enacting his life as a sort of mark of respect.”
The pirate looked him in the eye.
“So you be a lying bastard then?”
“No! I’m not a liar! I’m just acting out his life!”
The sailor docked the boat and clambered out of it.
“Listen Peter, he’s like an actor. This time, he’s acting out in real life, rather than just on stage.”
Edward nodded
“That’s right.”
Peter looked at Edward again.
“Arg. Well, I’m not sorry for stealin’ those kiddie boats! I’ll do it again!”
Peter was quite a tall man. He had a very square face, covered in pitch-black hair. The hair sprouting out of his pirate hat was short, but very messy. The beard was the same. He didn’t look like he shaved it, but looked as if he had occasionally attacked it with a machete. It followed no distinct pattern, except it covered most of his lower face, and didn’t go down much lower than his Adam’s apple. He had a big, round nose, and wore an eye patch over his right eyeball. Edward wasn’t sure whether Peter actually needed the eye patch, or just wore it for effect. He also had a small, golden earring in his left ear, which nestled close to the parrot, perched on his left shoulder. As Peter grinned, Edward saw a gold tooth, adding to the pirate look. Naturally, as a pirate, Peter wore a hat. It wasn’t the massive Napoleon-type hats, with the Jolly Roger on it, but was a rather flat, indigo blue, triangular hat. It looked like the sailor’s tricorn, but wasn’t as big. He wore a rather neat shirt for a pirate. It was quite a royal, dark looking rouge colour. It had gold buttons running up the centre of it. The collar was untidy though, with the first few buttons had been torn off to give the ‘tough rogue’ pirate look. He also had a small, sleeveless jacket, which wasn’t big enough to button together. It was pitch black, and worked well will the burnt red colour of the shirt. The shirt pocket also had a Jolly Roger, crudely painted on it. From the looks of it, peter had purchased quite a nice shirt, but had ‘pirated’ it up. He had white, lace cuffs poking out of the shirt. One led to a strong, hairy hand, but the other led to a hook. The hook was mounted on a small dome, and Edward was sure that Peter’s real hand was behind it, and this was just another pirate accessory.
He wore a thick, leather belt, with a gold buckle on it. A cutlass also poked out of one side, but it looked cheap and plastic, and again was probably used for effect. Peter had undamaged, dark brown trousers, which led to a pair of big black boots. If Peter was faking it as being a pirate, he certainly did it well.
Peter seemed uneasy with Edward looking at his uniform.
“Arg! Why are yee looking at me up and down? You are not gay, are yee?”
“What!? No! I’m just impressed by your uniform.”
“Ar! That makes an old pirate happy!” Peter smiled
His brother interrupted.
“Old!? You’re twenty eight.”
“Ar! That be old for a pirate!”
The sailor turned to Edward.
“Pleased to meet you. My name’s Andrew. I’m his older brother.”
Peter scowled.
“What!? Yee be younger than I!”
“What the hell do you mean younger!? You’re twenty eight, I’m thirty six. We’re eight years apart you salty dork.”
“Arg…” Grumbled Peter
Despite being older, Andrew was shorter than his brother, but not by much. He was stockier, and had broader shoulders. He had a round face, almost peanut-shaped. He had short, pale-white hair. It was neat, and upon it, sat a small sailors cap. The simple way of describing it, is a large, round coaster, with the peak coming out of it at the front. It was an ocean blue, with a white trim at the top and at the base. Andrew had a beard, similar to his brother, except his was white, and was a lot neater. It wasn’t very messy, and was very much like a ball of fluff.
He wore a smart, sailor’s uniform. It was ocean blue, like his hat, and had the white trim to go with it. He too had a row of gold buttons running along the top of his uniform. He even had gold coloured epaulets hanging off the tops of his shoulders. To finish it off, he had navy blue trousers, and bright white shoes. Although he seemed offended when his brother mentioned it, Edward was sure that Andrew looked like someone out of the old fish finger adverts.
Edward shook his hand and smiled. Andrew then clenched his hands and put them on his hips.
“Now then, Edward, Actor of Jesus’ life. What can we do to help you?”
Edward crossed his arms, and prepared himself to ask the all important question. This time, it wasn’t one of the questions normally asked, such as “Will you marry me?” “Are you rich?” and “Who do you think you are!?”
“Well…you see. You know I’m acting out Jesus’ life…”
Andrew nodded.
“…Well, as you know, Jesus had twelve disciples. I need these twelve, so that I can act out the story.”
“But those twelve would be dead by now. I don’t know of anyone around two thousand years old.” Peter interrupted.
“No, I mean, I need to find new disciples. Modern day ones. I need twelve other people to help me.”
Andrew smiled.
“So you’re asking us if we would be your first two disciples?”
“That’s the plan…”
“Well…I’m not sure…”
Edward remembered that he should use Jesus’ words. They may help to convince them.
“Come with me, and I will teach you to catch people.”
Peter scrunched up his face in confusion.
“Wha!?”
“I will teach you to be a fisher of men.”
“Arg! We will catch people? You mean to tell me that you’re going to make us walk ‘round the streets with huge nets and catch people?” Peter inquired.
“Not exactly…”
“And a fisher of men? What to yee think we are? Gay?”
“What is it with you and gays!?” Shouted Andrew.
“It’s a figure of speech, Peter.” Edward corrected. “It just means that I’ll teach you draw in huge crowds.”
Peter’s visible eye lit up.
“You mean we’ll be famous?”
Edward started to sink back into his fantasy of fame and fortune.
“Yes, we might be if we do it well enough.”
“Then what are we waiting for!? Arg! Man the sails! Full speed ahead! We’re off to search for buried treasure!” Peter yelled, running off. “Come on!”
Andrew turned to look at Edward.
“I guess we’re in then! What do we do?”
Edward looked at his Bible.
“We’ll work it out when the time comes. By the looks of it, right now, you just follow me.”
“Lead the way then!” Smiled Andrew
Peter ran back.
“Come on me harties!”
Andrew pointed to a mound of earth a few yards away.
“Oh, look! A gold dubloon!”
Peter’s head shot round to the direction where Andrew was pointing.
“Where!?”
“Over there, in that mound of dirt.”
Peter ran off and started scooping dirt out of the ground, in hope of finding buried treasure. Meanwhile, Andrew put his hand on Edward’s shoulder, and spoke quietly to him.
“You’ll have to excuse my brother. He thinks he’s a pirate.”
“I can see that.” Commented Edward.
“You see, he watched pirate films when he was a child. Mother used to use them to shut him up. But it all went to his head. He even had a person dressed up as a pirate come round for his birthday party. It all started off lightly. He said ‘Arg’ in class, he wore an eye patch everywhere. But it got worse. After a while, he was starting mutinies in his class and pillaging other kids of their tricycles and candy. He even made them walk the plank into the sandpit. And now, he’s ‘boarding’ other people’s boats and cars. He even tried to encourage a load of us to go and pillage the nearby old-folks home. Naturally, he wasn’t allowed to work in normal environments, so we’re now here, fishing for a living, where he blends in fine!”
“Does he hate gays or something?”
“Not quite. He dislikes camp people. You see, his first ‘crew’ was all camp, and they all mutinied because he banned a pink Jolly Roger and made them walk the plank if they minced. There were many ‘wet towel’ incidents as well, from what I’ve heard, but he doesn’t like to talk about it. They sent him on his way on a small raft made of talcum powder bottles, tied up with pink tinsel. He’s never been the same since that day.”
“What about you?” Inquired Edward. “Why do have that sailor suit?”
“It’s a…I thought I’d dress like a sailor too…you know…to blend in with Peter.”
Andrew seemed to want to leave the topic hastily. Edward decided not to ask further questions about it. Peter returned from his dig, with a gloomy expression on his face.
“Ar. There be no treasure there.”
“Don’t worry.” Edward said comfortingly. “We’ll find some on our journey. All we need now are two more fishermen!”
“Arg! We see more landlubbers earlier. They be that way me hartie!” Peter pointed out
So they set off in the direction Peter directed, in hope of finding two more fishermen to join them.”

They walked for about ten minutes, seeing many small boats in the distance, completing whatever objectives they’re carrying out. All of the boats were too far away for Edward to talk to the people. Peter offered the use of his small boat, but Edward didn’t trust the small, rickety vessel. Edward was also afraid that the rabid cucumbers would try and attack him again, this time taking him down to a watery grave. So Edward and his two new disciples stuck to the shore.
Fortunately, they saw a boat close to the shore.
“Landlubbers ho!” Declared Peter.
Edward looked on, and saw two more men sitting in a small boat, fishing.
“Perfect.” Edward said, with a contented smile. Edward needed two more fishermen to fulfil the selection of fishermen Jesus had as disciples. So they raced down to the shore, closest to where they were sailing, to go and speak to them.
The two men were quite big, and had obviously chosen a boat too small for them. The massive one with very broad shoulders was sitting on one side of the boat, hunched over like Quasimodo, and whose large, bear-like hands held on to a small fishing rod, ambitiously angling for a brainless fish to cling onto it. He looked very cramped in the small boat, and looked as if he needed a shoehorn to get into it.
The other one was slimmer, and had a strong, dark tan. He looked Spanish. He looked more relaxed. He was leaning against the back of the broader one, as if it was an armchair. He had one leg tucked into the boat, with the other one perching on the side. He too possessed a fishing rod, grasping it with both hands. A rather thick cigar protruded out the side of his mouth, and he smiled as he took heavy puffs of it, and firing out a cloud of smoke, a lot like a steam train. Except he didn’t run on tracks, require coal or is continually cancelled or delayed.
Edward called out to them.
“Hello there!”
The two men looked up from their boat, and glared at Edward. He smiled at them, and began waving.
“What do you want?” The broader one shouted.
“Well, my name’s Edward…”
“That’s nice.” Commented the tanned one, as both of them went back to their fishing.
“No, you didn’t let me finish. I want to ask you a favour.”
Both fishermen froze, intrigued by the request of a favour.
“Well…” Urged the tanned one, leaning forward slightly.
Edward smiled, he managed to get their attention a lot quicker than he did the other two.
“You see, I’m living out Jesus’ life…”
The Broader one shot up in horror, dropping his fishing rod in the water.
“HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD! IT’S HIM!”
The tanned one frowned.
“Who?”
“JESUS CHRIST!” The broad one bellowed. Waving one of his massive paws, smashing a side of the boat as he did so, sending a few planks of wood and splinters flying into the lake.
The tanned one froze, and his cigar fell out of his mouth.
“HIM!?”
“Yes! He’s here!” Screamed the broad one, pointing at Edward. The tanned one took another look at Edward.
“You think he’d be taller.”
“It doesn’t matter! He’s here to punish us!” Cried the broad one, falling to his knees. The tanned one started patting his back and comforting him. He then scowled at Edward, and started shaking his fist.
“You’ll never take us alive, you bastard!”
“I’m not here to punish you!” Edward called.
“Yeah, that’s what they all say! You’re leading us into a false sense of security, so we will sail over there, then BAM! You’re going to give us retribution and redemption and what not…”
“No, you’ve got it all wrong.”
“Like hell we have! You come over here and get us! Just you walk on water and punish us if you’re such a big shot!” He shouted, sticking out his chin and pointing at it.
“Come on then! Gimme your best shot!”
The broad one was now whimpering.
“We’re doomed. Sniff. I’ve been a bad boy…”
The tanned one slapped his hand on his shoulder.
“Now listen here! That’s a very defeatist attitude! We’ve been good people our lives! We’re going to stand up for what is right! We’re standing up for the fact that we don’t deserve punishment for our good work!” He turned and hurled more abuse at Edward. “You hear that!? We’ve been good! So stuff your punishments where the sun don’t shine!”
The broad one began to wail. “Don’t make it worse!”
“Listen John! I’m your brother, I’m going to get you out of this dilemma!” he turned to Edward again. “Leave him out of this! It’s between you and me!”
“NO!” The broad one cried again, waving his arm and smashing the other side of the boat, sending more splinters to the fish.
Edward collapsed into a little heap, and put his hands over his face. It was happening again. He stood up, clenched his fists, and shouted at the fishermen.
“LOOK! SHUT UP! I’M NOT JESUS! YOU HEAR THAT!? NOT JESUS!”
Edward had gone red in the face, and was now starting to sweat. Meanwhile, the two fishermen in the boat had now stopped their crying and shouting, and had frozen, both looking at Edward.
“You’re not?” The tanned one inquired.
“No, my name is Edward.”
“Well that’s a relief!” Sighed the broad one.
“Phew! You gave us a bit of a fright!” Declared the tanned one, sitting back down.
“Sorry, I mustn’t have made myself clear.” Started Edward. “I’m acting Jesus’ life. I’m not actually him.”
The tanned one smiled. “Hey! An actor! That’s brilliant! This for a movie or something?”
“Not quite.”
“Oh. Well how can we help then?”
“Well you see, Jesus had a lot of disciples on his journey. I’m trying to find people who will pretend to be them. I’ve got two already.” He declared, indicating the fishermen beside him. “And I’m looking for two more fishermen.”
“So you want us to help?” Asked the broad one.
“That’s the idea.”
“Oh wow!” The broad one smiled.
“Arg! He will teach you to be a fisher of men!” Peter called out.
“A fisher of men?” Frowned the tanned one. “He’s not gay, is he?”
Edward looked from Peter to the new disciples.
“What do you mean!? I’m not gay!”
“Sure you aren’t” Winked the tanned one.
“Just shut up and follow me!” Shouted Edward.
“Wow. Us. Disciples!” Smiled the broad one.
“This is so exciting!” Clapped the tanned one.
Both of them then grabbed each others arms and started jumping up and down like small children. However, the small boat wasn’t big enough to support the two jumping men, and it capsized, plunging both of them into the water.
“Help! Can’t swim!” They shouted.
Peter and Andrew quickly leapt into the water, and swam over to them.
A few minutes later, the two new disciples were lying on the shore, spluttering, but alive. Peter was tipping the water out of his hat, and Andrew was wringing his beard dry.
“So what are your names then?” Asked Edward.
The tanned one spoke. “I’m James, and that is my brother, John.”
John smiled and said hello.
Both men were the same height, but John was a lot broader.
James was thin, but well built. He had a thin, shield-like face, coated in a golden tan. He had neat black hair, combed and styled, without much of a fringe. James obviously spent a lot of time looking after it. Edward could imaging James spending all morning slowly applying hair cream or gel into his hair, to get it just right. He had thick, black eyebrows, but was clean shaven. He had a strong chin, but quite a thin neck. He wore a smart suit. It was a pure white shirt, with a black necktie and blazer. A wire coiled out of his collar, and spiralled up to his earpiece. He had one of those communication wires which people on live TV normally use. He had black trousers and shiny shoes to finish. He had long legs, but they looked strong too. His arms were similar. They were generally thin, but he had strong biceps creating contours on his suit. He had relatively broad shoulders to match.
John on the other hand, was a lot broader. His arms and shoulders made James look like a stick insect. He had a square face and a square body. Unlike James, he had pale skin and no hair. The occasional fuzz of hair lay on his head, but it was mostly barren. He had a strong stubble though, and wore large, very dark sunglasses at the top of his bumpy nose. He too had thick eyebrows, which hung menacingly close to his eyes. He had a square, strong jaw, but hardly any neck was visible. He wore an identical suit to James, including the earpiece. However, he had shorter legs, smaller feet, thicker arms, massive shoulders and a beer belly, which gave him a cube look.
One thing was for sure, both of them looked like bodyguards.
Edward leant over James and asked:
“Just out of interest, are you two bodyguards or something?”
James smiled. “That’s right. How’d you guess?”
“Just a hunch. But if you’re bodyguards, how’d you…”
“…End up fishing?” James finished. “Yeah, we get asked that. You see, both of us grew up in England. Both of us wanted to be bodyguards. So we trained, and after a few years, both of us were fully qualified. With such a job under our arms, we went our separate ways. I went to Spain…”
“Hence the tan.” Edward said
“And John over there went to Las Vegas.”
“So what happened?” Asked Andrew.
“Well, it’s a common story. But both of us decided to indulge ourselves with our pay. Both of us soon ran short of money, and were kicked out of our houses for shortage of finances. What’s worse, the entire countries kicked us out.”
“What!?” Spluttered Edward
“They said that we were going over there, stealing their jobs and sleeping with their women. So they shipped us back to jolly old England.”
John sat up and finished the story.
“And now, we’re here, fishing for a living, to earn enough money to become fully qualified bodyguards again, because no one wants a bodyguard who can’t afford a bullet proof jacket.”
“Oh, so that their bodyguard isn’t killed if he’s shot?”
“No. It’s because the bullet will go straight through the bodyguard, and then into the person they were trying to defend. Killing two birds with one stone.”
“Ar! How can ye compare a gun to a stone?” Snapped Peter.
“Ignore him” Edward mouthed.
“What!? Egor him? His name is Egor?” John spluttered.
Edward rolled his eyes and carried on with the conversation.
“Well, if one shot hits a bodyguard. What’s to stop the killer reloading and taking another shot.”
“Ah!” Smiled John, tapping the end of his nose. “That’s why we have six bodyguards!” He stood up, and helped his brother up too. “Say! You doing this acting thing! Looking at you now, you’re bound to get mugged for being a loser! We’ll protect you! We could be bodyguards, and disciples!”
“That’s great!” Smiled Edward, not sure if he should be offended that they just called him a loser. “Do you have a company name?”
“Yeah, we like to call ourselves: ‘Men of Thunder’.” Beamed James, moving his hands apart, as if he was displaying their name on a sign.
Edward was sure that he had heard all of this before. Everything seemed very familiar. He decided to ask them a question.
“Erm…your father. Would he be called Zebedee by any chance?”
“Zebedee!?” James exclaimed. “What a shit name for a dad!”
“But speaking of which…” John burst out. Both of us are fans of the ‘Magic Rounda’…”
James threw a sharp look at John, and coughed loudly.
John quickly rectified his sentence, as if he had said nothing. “We like…er…magic tricks. You know, Derren Brown and stuff.”
Edward knew what John was going to say, but he didn’t care, he liked kiddie stuff too, he just walked on, with four disciples now, in search of eight more.