Bob was sad for a minute, seeing Ernie go off - he didn't often have visits from friends, since Ernie was his only friend, and didn't visit much usually. How he wished for friends that weren't so git-like, selfish and rude. But where would he find people like that?

Anybody remotely interesting, good looking, rich, sporty or in any way more talented than a catatonic sea slug already had their own groups of friends, and didn't mix with poor Bob. So he thought he'd set about getting an image, getting 'cool' (but not too cool, or he might catch cold) and by doing this, gain cool (but healthy) friends, who would visit him and bring their own food, and preferably their own alcohol.

The first thing he did was to get rid of his cords and buy some jeans. He sent his nice blue canvas shoes to his cousin, and bought some DMs and some expensive trainers. It was surprising how fashionably a caveman could dress. Next he shaved his beard, which took a good few years off him, although they did get paid back in monthly installments for the next few years.

He picked a football team to support, and read all about their successes over the other clubs. This didn't take too long, since football still hadn't been invented, so there were still no matches, and the teams just sat around all day doing nothing and getting paid fortunes.

Then he started trying to mingle in with the people he wanted to accept him as a friend, but generally sat there listening, not knowing why the mention of yoghurt, a carrot and some bloke called Paul should make them all laugh, or why a further mention of green tights made them fall about uncontrollably.

"Who's this Paul then?" he asked, hoping to be introduced into the conversation.

"No-one you know, Bob", was the brief reply from Brett, the blond-haired guy sitting next to him, who promptly turned back round and continued his discussion about Emma and Silks.

Poor Bob didn't have a clue what they were talking about. So Emma wore silk clothes? Hmm. Bob didn't know what to make of it all.