"Y'see," explains the all-knowing fell runner to his numerous siblings "the other lads made up two characters. Now they went down well with the year group but could've been improved if you follow me now. Y'see those masks both look the same so I've made one that looks similar. The oul lads'll surely be impressed!" Before this good catholic schoolboy was something that looked as plain as the Face, yet as tacky as Furious B's clothing. "Now I'll just add the finishin' touches. There's two ways I could go about this now," he moans on, aware of his family hanging on every word "But I'll go the right way here and put some oul cap on his head." The costume was ready and so our creator precausiously set his self-proclaimed 'masterpiece' on the mantle ready for collection before he walked five miles to the old schoolhouse in the morning. Next day at school, after assembly, he stood smugly at the front of Physics room one with his hands under the balding instigator's desk. When all were present he announced that he was the new authority on dressing up and planned to reveal his new superior, tried and tested alter-ego. Most of his class'mates' anticipated the curled paddy to pull off a stunt involving robes patterned with his beloved Celtic designs and some form of potato catapult but his two faithful counterparts who can not be named for legal reasons were jigging the Riverdance in hope of a 'Face 2'. When our 'west-wall charger' appeared in the doorway our hero stepped down with undue respect. As he calmly walked back to his desk, heads turned and eyes tracked but nothing happened for all but one minute of fifty. In this instance a mighty howl was unleashed as a multi-coloured fool clambered across desks, keeping low for fear of missiles aimed at his person. The loyal chums stood up in astonishment, our hero had mangaed to create something that ripped off everything they had ever created, including crafts from their primary school days yet pull it off with such nonchalance of anybody elses opinion of the gruesome facade. He scrambled from the room in a frantic manner after being pelted with a deadly array of sharp objects compiling of compasses, an overgrown fingernail and the balding instigators parker pen. Shouts of 'oul boy!...loser!' followed him and a triumphant 'heh heh heh!' came from the front 'outcast' desk, but one noise stayed clear ringing in everybody's ears, the groaned words - 'I am Zodiac!'. 'Zodiac' disappeared after this uninteresting chain of events supposedly because of extreme humiliation but the 'oul boy' still maintains to this day that his 'authentic' creation is legendary and loved by all.
