Chanticleer One sat down and looked at Chanticleer Two.
‘Are you a punk?’
‘Yeah, hardcore.’
‘How does that affect how you act as a time traveller?’
‘I’m not sure. I mean, my brother Jeff is a straight edger, so he is careful not to do certain things. What are you, a prog rocker?’
‘I suppose, John. They call me Prog Peter,so yeah. I don’t know – maybe I’m a little over-theatrical in the transition, and I think of Rick Wakeman as a god.’
John laughed. ‘Well, I mean, I like John Lydon, but I’m not really taking too many pointers from The Sex Pistols, or PIL, but who can say? It informed who and what I am, didn’t it.’
‘I am only asking because I had a run in with a classical music Chanticleer who gave me a lot of attitude, and it was kinda painful. If a free jazz fan called Bloose hadn’t turned up I would have had a physical confrontation.’
‘Don’t sweat it.I don’t think it is all necessarily lead by music. Could be. Wait til you meet yourself a Reality Engineer.’
‘Isn’t that one of them over there?’
‘Sure is – looks like he is calibrating the club to make sure there aren’t a whole bunch of temporally driven narrative threads coming out of the place that could destabilise the localspace sector.’
‘You seem like you’ve been around a while.’
‘Sure, I’m not music period pegged, anyhow – I’ll see you around Pete.’
Peter smiled: ‘Later, John.’