i walk into darlinghurst road, it's been a while since i have been down this neck of the woods and memories surface, seeing spearhead play their first gig hear in a small club, memories of nights in barons, memories of marnee, these memories spill out from my head and fall apart in the rain. i pull out a scrap of paper from my wallet and look at the address i was given, here it is, a strange doorway with steps leading down. the door is locked and i ring the buzzer as instructed. the door opens and i walk down into the passage way.

under the ground of kings cross there is a small but industrious team of elves. they make me wait in a reception area, offer me tea. i watch them shuffle some papers and then they ask me to fill in some paperwork. these elves have procedures and rituals that must be respected, they speak an arcane language, a mixture of olde english and elvish, mixed in with some latin. a few female elven folk swan around me flirting while i scribble my details on their forms. they want to know all sorts of strange snippets of my personal habits and various idiosyncrasies i may have. one leans over and asks me if i would like to come to a farie ball. i decline, saying i have very little time these days for such pursuits, she shoots me a disappointed look. i return to the form, some of he questions seem bizarre and random.
;what do you think of cheese?
have you ever had a homo sexual relationship?
do you have any artificial bones?
what day do you like least?
etc
so i scrawl my answers, equally as random and then sit patiently.
about seven minutes later i am told by the elf at the desk that titania will see me.
'titania!' i exclaim, 'isn't she a fairy queen.'
'no mr mission, she's an elf.'
i nod my head and return to my thoughts. 


when titania wakes me from my contemplation i stand and extend my hand, we exchange greetings and i follow her along a dark corridor and another flight of steps and another corridor.
her office is a mess, a real shrine to chaos. she offers me a seat and i open up all my paperwork as she leaves through it, 'oh yes mr. mission. nasty business i see, mmm, don't like the sound of this.'
i sit quietly, she mutters, 'my my, what a terrible circumstance, nasty business, nasty.'
she asks me a few questions, she lights up a cigarette.
'hey, you can't smoke inside.'
'i can and i will mr. mission, now what the hell are you doing in a situation like this?' she slams the paperwork down and shakes her head seriously.
'look all i want to know is are you people prepared to assist me?'
she leans back and draws deeply on her cigarette, she flutters her long lashes and reveals her legs via the split in her dress.
i remain restrained, my dealings with elves have granted me an indifferent response to their sexual energy, flirtations like this are designed around feeding on sexual energy, or what the elves call eros. titania quickly worked out my resistance, 'well mr. mission, how do you intend to pay for services rendered?'
'so you will assist me?'
'payment options are limited.'
'what do you want?'
'oh well lets say a few pounds of flesh.'
i'm in a corner, i have had relations with elves but usually i've been glamoured or bewitched, once i had to fuck my way out of a sticky corner i found myself in. i really didn't have much choice now, so i nodded in agreement.
'you better sign here,' she passes me a contract on which i make my mark.
later she walks me back the way i came in, she looks flushed and i am exhausted. all i can think about is getting home and having a long hot bath. 
we say goodbye and i thank her for her help. i grab a cup of water from the water bottle and wander up onto the streets of kings cross, it's dark now, neon hits me, people speed past the doorway, a man spruking a sex club asks if i want to go inside.
i'm stuck for words as i cross the street and walk down away from  it all.