2010-12-30T04:46:00.001-08:00

Chapter One. An Imponderable Inconvenience.

Deman Drawkcab is not your average cup of tea. Slightly different to thee established Homo-sapiens. Not utterly different but by no means run-of-the-mill.

For example: Yesterday Deman had just crossed Green Park and was now walking up Picadilly in London. He stopped just outside the Ritz on his way to the Police station. I should point out, he wasn't going there to help out, he was in trouble, but I'll get to that later... Anyway, he was outside the Ritz waiting to cross the road; the traffic lights to his right had obviously turned red as the oncoming traffic had stopped so he began to cross. Now the thing about these lights outside the Ritz is, they have a pedestrian crossing marked on the road, but, there are no nice green men available to suggest when for him to cross. Deman presumed it was good to go as the traffic to his right had stopped and he only needed to make it to the central road gondola, as if that's what it's called, but unfortunately the traffic had only stopped to let the other traffic from the junction in front on him out. This traffic roared from the junction, eager to get where they need to be. It was too late for Deman to turn back now, he was half way across yet a white van in the inside lane accelerated towards him fast....

Sorry to stop at this rather inconvenient moment but I think I may have to fill you in with a few details. Deman Drawkcab is an odd looking man. He is tall, well built but not visibly muscular, a large build, but not fat. He has a strange geeky, mullet type hair cut which looks as if it was styled in the 70's and gives him the appearance of being a bit simple and slow, like a man you wouldn't want to sit next to on the bus for fear you have no idea what he might do next. A bit like a retarded tramp. I think an inbred appearance might be the best way to describe him. Deman is very antisocial, he has no friends and only really talks in grunts, mainly due to laziness, he could probably hold a meaningful conversation but anyone is yet to find out. His appearance is deceptive, not in the way you might think, for he is incredibly unfit and very easily gets out of breath, merely walking causes him suitable discomfort.

He knows he is different, his parents were similar. He has noticed that with every generation the Drawkcab's were getting more and more different from the last, further from the norm, different in quite an extraordinary way. Their build has become slightly bulkier than an average person with every birth, but that's pretty insignificant, the strange thing is that their appearance doesn't really reflect their actual weight. Unfortunately Deman has not been able to find any scales strong enough to way himself which gives you a clue to his unconventional characteristic. His mum being the curious type, a tall, voluptuous lady, but not fat, once had access to a weigh bridge and found she weighed a mere 9120 kg, around 10 tons or 1436 stone, depending on how you work. Deman is guessing that he is double this, going by the effect he has on the surrounding landscape and knowing that his mum was double the weight of his grandmother.

Being the same weight as a double-decker bus has it's disadvantages; not being able to enjoy a nice day at the beach or a long walk in the park, not being able to enter most shops or buildings for fear that the floor will collapse, not being able to cross many small bridges, drive, ride public transport or catch aeroplanes. But it does have a fair number of advantages. Everything is relative and having all that mass compressed into such a small frame does enable him to lift things easily half his weight, such as a car, making changing a tyre a doddle, not that he needs to do this very often. Also with this great bulk, compared to an average man he appears to be made of iron or in his case lead and fairly indestructible when he comes in contact with things that an average man would ever encounter on a day to day basis.

Which leads me nicely back to my story...

The van driver accelerated towards him, banging his horn furiously. Deman thought to himself in a very calm, slow and considered manner, "well it's not my fault the council didn't make this pedestrian crossing clear enough is it," and carried on across the road, not even looking in the direction of the oncoming traffic but knowing full well of the situation. By this point the delivery driver had his head out the window shouting, "get off the fucking road you retarded freak!" with his hand now fully engaged on the horn. Deman Drawkcab simply stopped, his over sized size 16 shoes creaking as he did so, shoes that he had made for him to help spread his weight and stop him sinking into the ground. The van screeched and swerved as Deman slowly bent down to pick up a coin he had just that moment spotted, a little grin started to appear on his face for the first time in a long while. The van driver tried to break but couldn't manoeuvre fast enough and “CRUNCH!” Hit the back of Deman's leg, running over his ankle. Two of the vans wheels jolted up into the air as the driver lost control and veered into the side of the road where an open topped bus was parked. Deman swung round to his left, stretched out his arm and grabbed the vans rear bumper, stopping the van instantly and pulling Deman to the ground, causing the ground to shake quite dramatically. The driver sat in his van, with his jaw dropped, staring wide eyed at the corner of the bus he narrowly missed, still with his hand firmly pressing the horn, clearly in a state of shock and confusion as to what just happen. Some passersby ran from the kerb to check the van driver was okay, meanwhile Deman got to his feet, shook his head, brushed down his trousers, noticing he had slightly grazed his knee and scuffed his trouser leg, promptly set off, leaving the van driver to it and carried on with his long walk to the police station.

It was a very long walk to the station. Not being able to use many forms of transport is quite a problem for Deman. Somebody he accidently saved once from a near collision wanted to return the favour and made a simple push along scooter for Deman to get around on. It was a massive engineering project and eventually it was designed in a way to withstand 20 ton Deman riding it. Unfortunately the solid steel inline wheels carved deep tracks in the road surface and caused a great deal of damage. He was banned from using it.

Deman lives in an old converted train shed in Battersea, near the power station. This was one of a few places with strong enough foundations that he could find near the area he grew up in. He liked London for solid floors; the countryside was like quicksand to him when it rained. DD made it habitable himself, most of the internal walls are made of slabs of concrete with the steel rods sticking out and forced into knots, tying together sections of brick wall from demolition sites. Deman makes some extra cash by helping out in demolition and the removal of floors, walls and ceilings, it is something he is good at. His house is a dank, dingy, mess. There is no paint on the walls apart from the odd bit of graffiti, it is lit by basic florescent tubes, mould grows in the corners of every other room and everything is reinforced with rusty scaffolding, iron clad or made from concrete, most of the existing train shed windows are boarded up and the only natural light comes from a few transparent panels of tatty plastic corrugated sheets. His heating is provided by a large, rusty, old, riveted iron boiler that looks as though it came from a ship or factory from the early 20th century. He doesn't really have any soft furnishings, a favourite arm chair of his is made from reinforced concrete with a thick rubber back and cork arms, and this is pretty soft to him. His parents made his bed for him when he was about 12. You know, designed and built it, not just tucked in the sheets. It's made from layers of old woven, stretched out tyres with a steel girder frame. He used to hate the smell of sleeping on rubber when he was little but he find it comforting now as it reminds him of his mum and dad.
Walking into central London from here always causes a few problems as it is quite a fair distance and takes a good hour and a half, with all manner of obstacles on the way. He usually cross the river at Battersea Bridge as it is one of the quietest, narrowest and strongest. Being made of cast iron and granite; it seems perfectly able to carry Denam’s weight. Chelsea Bridge is closer to his house but he doesn’t quite trust this one, he needs to walk down the centre to be on the safe side or not as it were, and this just gets annoying as the traffic toot at him a lot, but, if he is in a hurry, it does the job. From here he walks up Kings road, on the pavement on the right side of the road as this seems rather well built, he has noticed that a lot of pavements can’t quite support his weight but has found a route of paths that can lead him to this particular Police Station; up Cadogan Lane, around Belgrave Square, along the left pavement of Piccadilly, across the road and up to Burlington Arcade, one of the few shopping arcades that Deman can enter, it appears to have an incredibly strong floor. Then it’s just a short walk from there to the station.

The police station is just off Regent Street. Mr Drawkcab has been asked to take part in a line up, 'apparently' some cyclist was tripped over by a pedestrian, the police pretty much already know it was Deman and this is all just a bit of a formality to all involved, apart from the cyclist, but most think nothing will come of it as the cyclist was indeed in the wrong.

Basically he decided to cycle through a red light, at a pedestrian crossing and Deman stuck his foot out to prove the point. The 'victims' involved are usually in the wrong when it comes to these matters, there seems to be a slight loophole in the law when it comes to twenty ton men and the green cross code.

Chapter Two.

Deman eventually made it to the police station.

More soon...

The Platitudinous Adventures of Deman Drawkcab