Pedro wept on the sidewalk. Gertrude, the Miniature locomotive, steamed past, splashing a giant muddy puddle onto Pedro's already filthy face. Pedro buried his ugly mug into his palms and whipped out his Nokia. He gently dialled the numbers - '0800 1111' whilst chanting it under his shallow breath. Alas, the number was blocked as he had called it too often. Therefore, he had to resort to his second option. He swiftly tapped in - '192' (the number for the ambulance in Brazil) just because he wanted attention. After 17 seconds, a not-suspicious-at-all white van with a dying goose taped to the top pulled into view. "HOP ON IN, M'LAD!" wheezed a spluttering voice. Only, this voice was the cause of all of Pedro's nightmares...
The van, crammed full of illegal items such as a trampoline, Daddy Pig's stash of stolen bling and Hobo Joe himself, wheeled into the hospital car park, thumping 7 pedestrians in the process. "Ugh, I just had this cleaned!" The large, misshapen vegetable screamed, shaking his head as fast as a dead slug, pointing furiously at the pedestrians crimson blood on the windscreen. "Never mind, I'll steal another one at gunpoint!" He giggled to himself, at the funniest joke on earth. Suddenly, a small gust of wind swept through the vehicle, flinging Pedro's 2 stone frame out of the smashed window. He found himself drifting in and out of consciousness...
