Anaria curled up on Geezer's lap, whilst she drank tea and read some William Blake. Geez smiled at the black cat with a white strip on its side.

It was a chill, slightly sunny day out, but they decided to stay inside because they were hermits.

Twiggy played guitar, on the floor on the old Persain rug, which Ann hummed a little tune and wrote vigoriously down a notebook.

But sadly, they needed an adventure. They hadn't been on one in ages, years even. It felt empty.

At the moment in time and space, nothing was right. Nothing motivated them anymore until Twiggy set her guitar down.

A beautiful cream-coloured Strat, warn in perfectly.

But anyways, Twiggy got the mail from the door and examined the bills, until she found a letter.

"Um...Pysch," Geezer's other nickname, "There's a letter for you."

It read, "Dear Madamoiselle, this is urgent. All the Johns have been acting off lately. Please help. Yours truly, James."

"Girls, cat and bisexually classified badgers, we have a mission. Pack up your things! We're going to HQ!"