Campbell Bain

If you're outside today, at any point, you might be...lucky enough to hear the sound of a delighted young Scottish man, from...above you, whooping and laughing hysterically alternately. If you look up, then, you'll probably see him, being pulled along attached by unbreakable ropes to ten albatrosses, which have made up their minds to try and fly away from him, which...doesn't work, naturally, so off he flies, through the air.

If you're REALLY 'lucky', you might find him swooping down at you. Don't worry. He'll warn you as soon as he can stop laughing.


[ooc: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO, if you want to see him, or try to carry on a yelling conversation, or...get mowed down by him, HERE IS WHERE YOU POST. IDEK.]

[The audio cuts in in the middle of a sentence spoken quite quickly in an enthusiastic and very Scottish male voice.]

--but I willnae keep you waitin’ any longer, so here’s th—

[A pause.]

Actually, I may have to keep you waiting just a wee bit longer, Gold Boppers, because I think I might have gone loonier than usual, being as I cannae see the studio anymore. I’ve lost my cans too, and the record and the mic and...the chair I was sitting in and it’s a very detailed hallucination, actually, cos I cannae feel or hear anything real any more either.

It’s all been replaced, though, I’ve no just gone blind and deaf and unless the nice men are already here and dragging me back to St. Jude’s I bet you’re all sitting there on the edge of your seats, wonderin’ what it is I’m seeing, or what’s gone wrong with me now, or maybe you’re just writing another angry letter to tell Radio Scotland that [He puts on a deeper, more English voice] Campbell Bain really isn’t suitable for the post and should be removed before he damages equipment that he cannae see. [He speaks normally again.] But I don’t care about you, I care about the first lot, and I can tell you all that it looks like I’m in a city square now, sitting on a park bench. Nowhere in Glasgow, I havenae seen this sort of fountain anywhere before, so I must’ve invented this one.

[Another pause.]

And I cannae feel the mic anywhere so either I’ve knocked it sideways now, or I’m no in the studio anymore and I’m talkin’ to myself in a hospital bed. ... [Quietly.] I hope they don’t sedate me. I could easily be more interestin’ than Neighbours, goin’ on like this. Well, at least as interesting. Close second. Better than Myra the Catatonic, at least.

[The feed stays on but the man doesn’t talk anymore.]