‘If you could have one superpower what would it be?’ Jimmy asked as he nailed his foot to a floorboard in a bid to sell his invention of year around, recyclable skies to Dragons Den
‘I’d like to be able to fly.’
‘That is why we have airplanes.’
‘I know. But I am talking about Superman kind of flying. Bang. Be in New York in under a minute.’
‘You know they would think you were one of President Maninastraitjacket’s Iranian nukes and blow you clean out of the atmosphere?’
‘Probably,’ I replied watching as Jimmy injected more morphine he had stolen from his cancer riddled grandmothers death bed before taking a drill to his left foot. ‘What superpower would you want?’
‘I’d become invisible.’
‘What would you do first?’
‘I’d find a performing street mime and beat him to death with an iron bar. It would go down as the greatest performance by a mime of all time and the round of applause he would get would be astounding. Nobody would ever figure out how he pulled it off.’
‘You know I don’t think Dragon’s Den is really the place you need right now. The hospital might be better able to stop the bleeding…and remove the floorboards from your feet.’
‘Hey look,’ Jimmy said deliriously as he pulled his feet free of the nail. ‘I’m like that guy from Nazareth. I got tomato.’
‘It’s stigmata and I really think you need a doctor.’
‘Tomato, tamahto,’ Jimmy said, putting his right foot out and his left foot in as he did the Hokey Pokey before passing out on the floor of the kitchen.

