7. DOG ENDS

FIRST-CLASS MALE

We left Terry Jackson-Brown (Parts 1 and 2) having alighted upon a novel way of evading the hunt that was after his blood by placing himself in parcels and using the Royal Mail as a means to keep himself disguised and one step ahead of his pursuers.

It felt odd as a journalist interviewing a parcel in the back of a delivery van and it only began to speak to me once I had agreed not to divulge the shape of the package and more importantly its destination.

‘After that first one with the fitness cycle I managed to find a boxing punchbag sort of martial arts thing that was being sent to a bloke in St Helens. I removed the stuffing and some electronics as judging by the information booklet it was a new generation of punchbag that had AI to let the puncher know how hard they were hitting and the likely damage they were causing, all of which was designed to motivate them to throw more punches, then I got in meself. Making some slits in the side so I could get me limbs in and out for a stretch on the long journey when needed.’

I could hear Terry wince from deep inside his brown wrapped concealment as he brought to mind what occurred next.

‘Course,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t planned on being placed into the hands of a bloody punchaholic. I had hoped to be put to one side once he had taken delivery of me, then when the coast was clear I could do a runner. But no. He immediately hung I up from a beam in his backyard that began creaking as I swayed from side to side, put on his mitts and began pummeling the Hell out of me. Fortunately, I was able to cry out in pain, as this was what was expected of the AI punchbag anyway, and it needed no acting from me. A right haymaker then busted me lip and I could feel the claret oozing out down me chin. That was it. I called him a ####er, slid me arms out and started punching him back. Caught him a nice one on the nose. Me knuckles hurt like Hell after but at the time adrenalin had kicked in and all I felt was satisfaction. I could sense that the tide had turned. No more punches were raining in on me. I got me legs out, unhooked me chain from the beam and started chasing him. What a change. Now the punchbag was hitting back he didn’t want to know it. He found safety behind his neighbour’s door and I shouted a few threats before I made off.’

What Terry didn’t realise was that the incident sparked concerns in the North-West that an AI punchbag was on the loose bent on destroying humankind invested with the speed and dexterity of Muhammad Ali in his prime and the punching power of Mike Tyson. This soon escalated to concerns that all AI fitness equipment was about to turn and led to temporary closures of gyms in the area for fear that treadmills could deliberately develop potholes and icy uneven surfaces and worse still that those using rowing machines could suddenly find they had to paddle for their lives to avoid a torpedo on their stern.

The ripples from the episode didn’t end there. A Government Think Tank was initiated to look into problems that could arise if usually passive products such as punchbags suddenly rebelled as in this instance and its main recommendation was to outlaw the manufacture of blow up AI sex dolls for fear that police stations would be besieged by complaints of sex acts being performed on them without their consent.

Thereafter, Terry adopted a different strategy when packaging himself.

‘I went for easier gigs. Like the shirt one. A guy in Plymouth ordered a shirt from eBay. I turned up in the shirt and simply told him that I had forgotten to remove it before posting it. Easy as that. And he bought it. Twice you could say. Then a lady in Haverfordwest had ordered a smoothie-maker. When delivered, I emerged from the packaging and instantly booked her son into tutorials designed to transform him from an uncouth, shy teenager with zero ability in how to win a woman over into a slick, persuasive young gentleman with the gift of the gab.’

There our conversation was curtailed as the van rumbled to a halt and Terry Jackson-Brown was delivered to another unsuspecting member of the public with another plausible deception to justify his unexpected presence. But with all the different places he’s delivered to it at least keeps him from death’s door.