Immediately after the funeral was adequately completed, Peter-Bowman sold the house to a passing family of gypsies and moved himself and his belongings into the phone box at the end of the street as a matter of economy. He had a lot of money, but was of the view that saving it was better than spending it. In any case, the phone box had a magnificent 720 degree view. If you span around with your eyes open rapidly enough. He quickly discovered that living in a phone box was much superior to his previous domicile. He could make phone calls without leaving his bedroom, kitchen, or bathroom. The advantages should be obvious. He even got a free cleaner thrown in with the deal. Quickly he set to work constructing an 'Out of Order' sign of great beauty to deter would be phone users. It had sequins and a small bow tie that twirled with menace when approached. On Sundays it paid respects to the day by spraying holy water on passersby and singing hymns. It only knew how to sing one hymn, 'Macarena', but it sang it very loudly and with great devotion of spirit to make up for this. Peter-Bowman was sure it was a hymn despite protests because it sounded Italian.

It was now time for Peter-Bowman to set to work. His life's work of course. The only problem was that he had yet to discover what it was. It should of course have been the acquisition of money, but tragically with everybody now dead he found he had inherited a considerable fortune. Plus a house in the country for the hunt, not to mention the steadily increasing real estate value of the phone box. That year it appeared was the year of the phone box - everybody was doing it. Peter-Bowman, as an early adapter, had an edge on the rest of the market in the sense that he had just waited politely in line until the drug dealers and little old ladies had conducted their business and moved in. The prices for a decent phone box these days were astounding. And Peter-Bowman had one of the best, having had the pick of the market when choosing. There seemed little point in gathering more of the stuff. As it was, he looked likely to need to give most of it away. For a moment he considered tax evasion as a work of life, but couldn't get very excited about it. He began to iron my jeans absent mindedly. I told him this was really not cricket at all.

'Oh, I know that boss.' Peter-Bowman responded with his delightful grin, pushing his chocolate brown hair back from his eyes in his patented move. 'It's just that ever since I became a man, I find that laundry duties are wonderfully stimulating to my brain.'

I think it was then that I first realised that Peter-Bowman was a complete lunatic. And good luck to him, I thought grudgingly. At least he has yet to become a complete fool. A good crease in a pair of jeans is something that you can point to and say 'Look, I may be living in a phone box when I can afford to rent a castle, but I can iron very well. Need I say more?' I had to admit to him that such a line had frequently saved my credibility in an awkward situation, and so let him continue his musings.

It seemed to Peter-Bowman that his Auntie Em had laid a sacred trust on him. To achieve a work of life as great as those hanging in world class galleries. Auntie Em had said the 'Loo', but Peter-Bowman knew that this mistake was just a matter of upbringing. His aunt had endured a rather upper class childhood, and as such could never bring herself to mention the 'toilet'. Peter-Bowman's work of life must be such that it could pass muster in the greatest toilets throughout the land. Again, this is a result of upbringing. Peter-Bowman of course means 'water' here, not 'muster'. It's just that it would not be polite for him to say so. I myself have not this disadvantage, having freed myself from the shackles of upbringing long ago to the extent that I recognise 'upbringing' as an upper-class term for throwing up in a gutter in the nearest red light district that taxi drivers will consent to take you to. And have no qualms about saying so, for the edification of the less spectacularly educated among us.

Peter-Bowman still had the problem - what should his work of life be? Many people answer it with accountancy, but that is rarely seen in toilets, let alone the loo. It never makes it that far, as it's upbringing is performed into the nearest handbag, often the accountant's potential upbringee. Usually this does not result in future opportunities for upbringing of any sort, no matter which class you choose to interpret that as. Peter-Bowman felt he had to find a deeper work of life. This became his quest, the quest to discover a work of life worthy to hang in his Auntie Em's loo. It was a difficult and dangerous quest, but well worth it as it came with a free Garfield doll to stick in the back wind screen of your car as a symbol that you were engaged in this quest. Peter-Bowman picked up four Garfields and stuck one on each side of his phone box. 'That should just about do it,' he thought to himself.

It would be nice to say that Peter-Bowman's phone box was oriented such that he had a north, south, east, or west Garfield to consult in moments of stress. I think this might make good Feng-Shui, or perhaps a Garfield based compass system that would revolutionise navigation. Unfortunately, Peter-Bowman's phone box was built by a lazy foreman and so was not true to the cardinal points.

Peter-Bowman had a NNW Garfield, a SSE Garfield, and so on. Suffice to say that no Garfield was positioned in such a way as to provide useful advice to a young adventurer seeking a work of life. It is perhaps a pity that Peter-Bowman choose to seek the advice of his Garfields. It is also understandable. Peter-Bowman did not know that his Garfields were incorrectly positioned from the providing of wisdom point of view. A correctly positioned Garfield, as is advertised in the brochure 'provides unlimited access to oracular wisdom dispensed in a friendly manner with a minimum of fur balls'. This is of course true. However, Peter-Bowman neglected to read the fine print that deals with an inaccurately placed Garfield which will 'certainly provide advice that you really shouldn't follow unless you are quite mad.' Peter-Bowman had fur ball dispensing Garfields. Four of them.