'Have you noticed that weird smell, John, in the flat? It's like sweet sickly yucky….. yucceeeecc…' Steve turned up his face as just the thought of it made him want to vomit. 'It stinks like babies, you know when they crap and stuff.' John let out a huge laugh, 'You're going soft. I've never experienced that one you nutter. Keep off that Pernod, it's rotting your brain.' 'I've left plenty of screaming boomers in the pan a few times, that's enough to make your eyes water and the wallpaper peel, but babies…. You're off your head mate.' The manager was going away for the weekend, to meet up with his girlfriend, and hire a van to pick up the furniture from their house by the coast. They closed the pub so Steve could get on with ripping up the old nasty carpets throughout the building and smash a few walls about here and there. The light fittings in the whole building looked like they were from the 1920's so they had to go. After sinking his fourth glass of Pernod and turning off all the lights downstairs, he headed to the top flat to continue the renovations and as he walked up the stairs the smell hit him. next »