I also grew my big bang project thing to 1,000 words! Nearly! If you include the pictures!
Writing my hard boiled investigator is trickier than you might imagine.
"And the punks came back, like slugs. And they eat slug pellets"
My wireless connection to the box downstairs is not playing ball. It's worse than usual. It's actually worse than me playing netball. And I was bad. Sort of F-grade bad. Except the bit where my somewhat antiquated games mistresses gave me an A for effort every term because I was not imaginative enough to lose my trainers and stubborn enough to spend five years of compulsory tennis lessons bouncing a ball on my racquet. Or at least, attempting to bounce tennis balls. Fortunately, I was the only girl with pink tennis balls, which made search and rescue much easier. Athleticism is not my forte. And now I am trying to make jokes about Forte motels.
So, no pictures to explain why punks eat slug pellets.