A grassed field greened the screen, with the distant blurred silhouettes of trees. In the foreground, a single flower grooved to the slow beat of the ...reeze, on which the camera zoomed. It morphed, through some rather backyard visual effects, into a simple logo. After panning out, it was clear the logo adorned a large canister of nerve-gas. Clear, in that it looked as a large nerve-gas canister perhaps should, also aided by the rather considerate label. ‘NERVE GAS CANISTER – Not to be taken.’. The goddess had a name which she now shared with her travelling companions."Hi! I'm Candice," she beamed as she shook each person's hand, first the ladies, then the old guy and lastly Billy. " But my friends at college just call me Candy." An open invitation for some witty remark, cute or cutting. But no word came from her seat mates although two snorts passed the lassie ladies' lips and a guttural grunt from the old man whose eyes were busy boring a fifth hole in Candy's shorts ... his. More

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