Last Friday my neighbours celebrated the 404th aniversary of "the Gunpowder Plot" with a BBQ and fireworks
So my son and I resurected one of the lost Arts not often seen in this country - that of Guy making.
His heart was a Steinlager carton, his limbs rolled Fairfax newspapers, he had a smiling cardboard face stuck to the front of his his empty head
"Mr Smith" or "Nick" to his acquaintances (he doesn't have friends) burned beatifully - with just a whiff of accelerant to help the flames along
And how we laughed when the fireworks taped to the back of his face exploded out through the eye sockets...
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