By Frampton Jones
I’d always had Colin Mathieson down as a fairly sensible sort of chap. The sort of fellow to know when to let go of a fishing rod, thus avoiding a sudden death by sea monster. The sort of chap not to find it persuasive to make blood sacrifices when an ancient evil took up residence in his kettle a few years back. Someone, I thought, who had the potential to survive as an islander for the longer term.
The kilt got him.
Where exactly the kilt came from and who its original owner was, I can only speculate. Whether it was haunted, possessed, cursed, enchanted, infested or had something else wrong with it, I could not say. I am not sure how one diagnoses the nature of the horror infusing such a garment. For horror it surely was. It appeared on his washing line, uninvited. A modest looking kilt, solidly made and in good condition. There it fluttered, innocent and alluring. Despite being an otherwise sensible man, Colin Mathieson failed to see the danger in the kilt, took it into his home, and wrapped it about his person.
For three days, the kilt had full control of Colin’s body. At first, his street dancing seemed amusing and novel, but the growing look of horror on his face told a different story. The kilt danced him through the streets of Hopeless. The kilt took him in and out of The Squid and Teapot at all hours of the night, his body clearly powerless to resist its relentless demands for alcohol. And finally, when the kilt had had its evil way with him and could find no further amusement, it left him somewhat undignified, and cold.
Which bit of that process actually killed him, it is hard to say. No one knows where the kilt is now, or whether it may strike again, but islanders are advised to be vigilant about any and all tartan materials, and probably also anything made of tweed.
Colin can be found with or without his kilt at Accent Comics http://www.accentukcomics.com/
And here’s the kickstarter, which could result in other people dancing in and out of pubs if we reach that last stretch goal…