The Wabbit and the Alien Pilot idly chatted as they waited for delivery. The roar of the Dora and the steady flow of traffic made the big iron bridge vibrate - then above the noise came singing. The bridge thudded as Tipsy dribbled a ball along the footpath. She flicked it in the air, headed it down and trapped it with her feet. She grinned. "The enemy software is installed in here." She stood on the ball hard with her instep. It shot to the side and landed spinning on the parapet. The Wabbit flinched. The ball lurched, wobbled then dropped from the rail and ran to Tipsy's feet. Tipsy kicked an enormous volley straight at the Wabbit. The Wabbit stunned the ball and handed it to the Alien Pilot. "I'm afraid she's football crazy." Tipsy winked at the Pilot. "It's half time, where's my dwink?" Alien Pilot pulled out a hip flask and winked back with some of his eyes. Tipsy drained the flask in an instant. "So what about our Doctor Strangeglove?" asked the Wabbit. The Alien pilot bounced the ball, caught it and span it on a finger. "The fake incidents are his trademark across at least three galaxies." Where is he?" asked the Wabbit. The Alien Pilot snorted. "No-one knows where his bunker is." Tipsy grunted. "We'll find him. And when we do, he'll have more holes than a goal net." "Sounds like a plan," shrugged the Wabbit. "The software will contain a clue," said Alien Pilot. He dropped the ball and dribbled it in the direction of the market ...
[Tipsy is singing Football Crazy a much adapted Scottish song written by James Curran in the 19th Century. The many later versions show the folk song in process. Tipsy's tartan hip flask is by Proudly Scottish]
