The last few stories have been a bit dark, here is a humorous one based on my characters from Damaged. 

'We'll need someone to do some spotting for the demo,' Claire said. 'In case there are any of that scum lurking about.'

The year was 2013. Wattleton Antifa rarely saw much activity. The fash had been truly smashed. On the rare occasions they managed to organise a demo they were usually sent packing with their tails between their legs.

At Sinead's quizzical look, Claire said, 'Just go into different pubs and check if anyone's there. Then send us a message. Pretend you're looking for a mate. And if there are any fash around, we'll come over and sort them out.'

'I'm not going to get beaten up, am I?' Sinead said. Half serious.

'Nah. They are idiots, mate. Utterly stupid. I'd say it's highly unlikely. Just watch out for the cops, you know they tend to get along quite well.'

'I'm up for that,' Sinead laughed. 'Could do with some excitement of a Saturday.'

Claire snorted. 'It won't be that exciting, I'm afraid, my love. People have this idea militant antifascism is glamorous. 90% is mind numbing tedium. Especially round here. Nothing ever happens.'

On Saturday evening, Sinead and her friend Mark hung around the streets of Wattleton, looking for the odd fascist that had been stupid enough to come here.

'I don't think there's anyone here.' Mark looked around. 'England's finest' had all gone home. They weren't in any of the pubs. They had plainly slunk away back to the holes they came from. 'Fuck it let's have a drink.'

They walked inside the nearest pub, the Goose's Head. It had a reputation for fights. Mark laughed as he recounted the story of how his sister's slightly disturbed girlfriend, Talisha, had been banned from the establishment. 'I sometimes wonder what Lou sees in her,' Mark admitted. 'She's harmless, but a bit bloody weird. And she doesn't have much of a problem with violence. Her mum is an absolute psycho. I guess she's turned out remarkably normal.'

'Talisha is a strange one, that's for sure,' Sinead said, shaking her head. She had only met her once. They walked up to the bar and ordered a pint of cider each. There were no fash in here, there was a guy wearing an England shirt but it was the world cup after all. They took the drinks back to their table and began to quietly swap war stories about various demos and strikes they had attended. As Sinead got more drunk, she thought about singing an Irish rebel song, Come Out Ye Black and Tans. However, common sense prevailed and she remembered she was in a conservative English town rather than Dublin or Belfast.

One drink turned into another. There was no sign of Claire. 'She's probably got into a scrap somewhere, you know what she's like,' Sinead said. Although Claire was her best friend, she could be impossible. The night wore on. She was going to regret this the next day. Oh well, who cared?

At 11.30 the barman rang his little bell for last orders which the pair ignored. Sinead wandered up to the bar again, it couldn't be more than a few minutes later could it? 'Sorry,' was the reply. 'We're closing now.'

'Says we're closing,' Sinead said. 'They're closing. Says they're closing.'

'Bollocks,' Mark said. 'Let's go somewhere else then.'

'I love you, Mark,' Sinead found herself saying, hugging him clumsily. 'Did I ever tell you? I love you. Not in that way, though. But I love you. You're one of my best friends. And I love your hair.' 

'I love you too, Sinead, this has been a good laugh,' Mark said. He patted her on the head. For once he was the sober one.

They walked together down Wattleton high street. The pubs were closing and all the drinkers were being kicked out. 'I'll get you a taxi,' Mark said, not wanting to leave his mate to walk home alone in the dark. Claire had just sent him a text, she was on her way home.

'I love you, Mark,' Sinead giggled, aware of how incapable she was.

And then as they stumbled down the street, a man they recognised as being a right-wing extremist jumped out at them. Claire and Danny weren't there to sort him out. So they just stared at him unsure of what to do. Run, probably, although Sinead knew she'd probably fall over.

'Don't worry!' the man yelled. 'I've seen the light! I am not a fascist any more! And I'll tell you why!'

Unconvinced by this, Sinead looked at Mark and started giggling again.

'I saw a bright light in the sky!' he said, pointing upwards. 'A bright green light. And do you know what? They swooped down and picked me up! Blue creatures! So many of them!'

Mark grabbed Sinead's arm and they took several steps backwards.

'For all this time I've been believing a lie,' he yelled. 'The real enemy is up there, among the stars! The human race have got to stick together!'

'Sounds about right,' Mark said. He continued on with Sinead, hoping he was sober enough to remember the next day so he could tell his sister. What a lunatic.

And then the sky turned green. Shit.