As Gen. Manager tried desperately to take in the sight before him, 12 miles away, on a quiet Snotting on the Wold street, people went about their business. Nobody took any notice of the sleek, black limo which had drawn up at the kerbside, oblivious to the plans being made behind it's dark, tinted windows. Inside a huge hulk of a man spoke, " My name is Mr Slate.....but you may call me Mr Slate, as you'll have gathered, I have a job for you......I want you to kill neiwil...." The leather clad blonde raised an eyebrow and spoke " Why ?" Mr Slate, obviously unaccustomed to being questioned replied " That's none of your business...but as you've asked, I represent a group of aircraft modellers. They've made a good living selling their models but now a group of upstarts having taken to giving things away for FREE!!, neiwil started this and my ' friends' would like to set an example...." The blonde thought for a moment and said " Fare enough....but I don't come cheap.." The big man indicated a chest on the floor of the limo, " take these trinkets, as a down payment...there'll be another chest, twice the size, when the job is done". The blonde smiled " I've always fancied a chest twice the size....I guess now, I can afford it". The big man looked flushed " Eeeerrrmm, quite...perhaps you'd like to join me for dinner and then.........." " NO!!!" was the speedy reply, the blonde picked up the chest and stepped out of the limo, looking over her shoulder she said " I'll be in touch"..... Meanwhile, at the bottom of The Duckpond.........