Ray got up and peered down into the abyss. There was an old man down there, waving an outrageous pair of novelty glasses. Brandon had been telling the truth! Again that boy had been able to bring Ray back into the here and now, to make him face reality instead of wondering if he was the victim of some crazed experiment.
"Okay, we need a rope and a line of very strong people. Mary, stand aside."
"I will not, you chauvinist!" Mary said hotly, clutching a hand to her unborn child.
"I'll get your kids," Brandon suggested. The evil plan Granny Gold had tasked him with was beginning to come together. The Plastic family would die, horribly, and he, Granny and Grandad could move into their lovely house with a toilet, television, and fake hob, all with realistic sound effects. He rubbed his hands in glee. Soon the whole family would be tumbling over the edge. Screaming, hopefully. He had always loved making people scream.
"Wait!" called out Richard.
Brandon's face darkened. Could his father have figured out the plan? Richard had always thought the worst of him, and had even made Brandon move in with Granny Gold. It was all because he didn't have ginger hair like the rest of the family. And because he had set fire to his sisters' bedroom. But it wasn't fair!
"It's very kind of you and your wife to offer to rescue my father, but I simply can't let you," Richard said to Ray. "I'm Richard Gold, by the way."
Ray held out his hand. "Ray Plastic. Pleased to meet you. And this is Mary."
They shook hands. Richard looked puzzled. "New, are you? Strange, I feel as though we've always known each other."
"I have that feeling too," Ray said. "About everything, really. I wonder, do you ever feel like there's nothing else out there, like we're just lumps of moulded material, bent to another's will -"
But Richard had already approached the edge of the abyss and was leaning over it.
"Dad! You know I love you, don't you?"
"What?" Grandad Gold bellowed.
"I love you!"
"I know you're above me, that's the whole problem! Would somebody please help me up?"
"No, Dad. You don't understand. This is your chance - your chance to walk away from Mum. She's evil! Evil, I tell you! Walk away - and don't look back!"
Grandad Gold stood alone in that great empty space, like a small children's figurine left on a giant carpet. "But I love her," he said simply. "And there's nowhere left to turn."
"But there is, Dad! There's always hope! We can get you counselling - you can join a self-help group."
"Spouses Of Dangerous Enigmatic Matriarchs," Mary suggested.
"Mary says SODEM!" Richard called down.
"No, son, there's
literally nowhere to turn." Grandad gestured with his arm. "It's empty down here. So please can I come back up? Your mother does make a nice cup of tea, for all her faults. And I did want to see the Battle of the Bands. Satan Rising by Gore Hell Vandals is sick!"
Brandon and Mary looked at each other. They were both competing that night, Brandon as drummer with the teenage tearaways Gore Hell Vandals, and Mary with her post-menopausal girl group Uterus.
"Uterus are going to win," Mary growled.
"They can't if you're not there," Brandon growled back. He made a grab for Mary and suddenly they were teetering on the edge of the abyss, each trying to push the other over.
"Stop!" Richard shouted. "Brandon, we must play tennis before you die! At least one game!"
Brandon paused and stared at his father. "What's with the weird priorities, Dad?"
Richard swallowed nervously. How could he tell Brandon he suspected he was the result of Wendy's foolish fling fifteen years ago with Goran the professional tennis player?
Mary took the opportunity to duck out from under Brandon's arms. Pushing a concerned Ray away, she checked her watch. "Battle of the Bands starts in ten minutes and I'm not letting Uterus down." She marched back up the road, Brandon running after her making a rude gesture while frantically practising his drum solo at the same time. Ray and Richard exchanged resigned glances, sighed, and followed.
Alone again, Grandad Gold cleared his throat. "Hello? Hello up there? Where is everyone?"
Suddenly a huge dark shadow appeared over him and he was lifted high into the air by what looked like five enormous pink sausages. Before he could wonder what was happening, he was set down gently on the edge of the road leading back to Plastic St.
Grandad Gold brushed himself down. "Humph," he said to himself. "That was handy."
The giant hand behind him paused, as though considering giving the old man a slap, but then seemed to think better of it and rose slowly back into the air and out of sight.
As special guest star in the new season of Plastic St, Simon Vinyl's character is certainly making waves. But what's it like playing yourself on an internet phenomenon? We catch up with Simon on the set of his 'day job', I've Got Talent, Get Me Out of Here.
