The Secret Diary of Dennis Brent

16th November

I met the manager of the science fiction merchandise shop today. His name is Brian Creswell and he is rather full of himself. I explained that I saw our relationship as being one of two equal co-managers working together - as equals - for the better running of the store. Neither of us would engage in the petty business of pulling rank or issuing orders for the sake of it. He told me to make him a cup of coffee and stop waffling. I did so but under an implied state of quid-pro-quo. I feel sure he will make the coffees next time.

19th November

Brian and I spent a happy day unpacking and arranging approximately eight hundred Target paperback books. How we enjoyed sorting them - one shelf contains them in alphabetical order, a second one has them in broadcast order and a third in release order. Brian is a splendid chap - any man who can sort Target books into release order from memory is my kind of man. He's just the sort of person I like having as an equal co-manager. We had so much fun sorting the books that I didn't mind going to get his coffee every time.

20th November

We had - if you can believe this - as much fun sorting video cassettes today as we had sorting the Target books yesterday. But this time we had the added fun of having a batch which were subdivided by the differing cover styles and logos. At one point we got so giddy that we started sorting them alphabetically WITHIN EACH DOCTOR! I can't remember the last time I had so much fun. Brian, my equal co-manager (milk, one sugar), is my new best friend. My friend Ian Devine (pie, one mouthful) has been relegated to second place on my list. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight - we're doing the New Adventures tomorrow <g>

21st November

My sides ache from laughing so much. I haven't laughed as much as I did today since my friend Ian Devine chocked on a pie and pastry came out of his nose. Brian Creswell and I spent the day working on our collection of Virgin New Adventures novels. Having special contacts, as we do, we have assembled a formidable collection. We started out sorting them in release order (again Brian did this from memory - I was terribly impressed), then alphabetically, then alphabetically by baddie and finally - and most enjoyably - we put them in quality order. It was pure joy to argue back and forth as to which we had enjoyed and which we hadn't. Well reasoned discussion always leaves me excited. I didn't think of Elkie once during the entire blissful day. My equal co-manager Brian and I are going out for a drink later, though I'm not sure he has much room left - I got him eight cups of coffee today <g>

22nd November

We put the finishing touches to "Outpost Bendaton" today. We fooled around with the BBC Doctor Who books for a while but there was lots else to do. We had several mannequins to dress - Brian demonstrated that he has a considerable flair for clothes (he's a rather natty dresser). At one point he even asked me to model for him (just to give him an idea of what the clothes would look like on the dummy). I was trembling - partly because November is a cold month and partly because I'd never worn TARDIS "Bigger on the inside than the outside" underpants. Heck, I've only ever seen one blurry photograph of them. Brian complimented me on my physique (all those years of humping bags of elk feed have not been wasted <g>) and after an hour he finally decided how he wanted to dress his dummy. We then spent an hour sorting compact discs, a couple of hours on miscellaneous trinkets and then a few minutes sweeping and dusting. Finally the shop was completed. My equal co-manager Brian and I took a proud look at out handiwork. Brian took my hand in his and patted it warmly. He told me he couldn't wish for a better assistant than me. He obviously meant assistant in the sense of equal co-assistant. We retired to the Elk and Bush for a swift half pint of Old Bishop's Scrote (a local Real Ale of some reputation). My friend Brian was very persuasive and got me to drink three and a half pints of the stuff - well over my usual <g> - and the last thing I remember was dancing to Slade and telling Brian how much I enjoyed working alongside him. As equal co-managers. I hope it came out like that - my speech was, perhaps, a little the worse for wear <g>

23rd November

My birthday and the opening of Outpost Bendaton. There was a crowd of people outside when I arrived to open the shop. One of them gasped and said "Are you Dennis Brent" and I told her I was. I remember noticing that two of the people lurking near the back of the line had their anorak hoods pulled up. It didn't strike me as odd at the time but they had rather dark, hairy legs and hooves. I opened the doors, made sure I kept the proles waiting for a few minutes and finally turned the sign over to say that Outpost Bendaton was officially open. My equal co-manager Brian and I had a marvellous time selling this and that, chatting to the proles (some of whom sensibly asked me to sign various fascinating technical books - I made a rule that I would sign anything in which I was thanked) and generally being the heart and soul of the Bendaton Whovian fandom. The epicentre of British telefantasy even. My equal co-manager Brian is a good motivator - he regularly patted me on the shoulder (his hand slipped downwards a couple of times but the excitement of the occasion was enough to confuse anyone). Once or twice I did my duty by a prole and advised them against purchasing something which was obviously utter rubbish (step forward anything post 1976) but I was, for the most part, entirely capitalistic in my outlook. I think I have found my calling. I can work at Outpost Bendaton during the day and write my fascinating technical articles in the evening. I can pay Mr Penistone what he claims I owe him, my father will recognise that I have a real job and stop telling people I died in 1991 and I can squirrel away enough money to find the frozen Doctor Who corpse which will once and for all silence my friend Ian Devine. Life is good. I am writing this in the stockroom during my afternoon break. I wanted to capture all the excitement while it was fresh in my mind.

Later - Everything was going fine until we closed the shop. My equal co-manager Brian and I were counting the takings and drinking coffee when he told me he couldn't have done it without me. I agreed with my friend Brian that we were an excellent team. He then told me how much he enjoyed seeing me - both professionally and personally. I agreed that it was nice to find someone who really understood me. Everything was running smoothly until he suddenly got up and kissed me firmly on the mouth. I spluttered a fair bit, in shock obviously, and knocked over a large pile of two pence coins. They hit the floor with an almighty racket and this jolted me out of my catatonic state.

"What are you doing ?" I asked.

"I thought... you said..." he blushed.

"I think I should leave" I spluttered.

"Dennis... I... I'm sor..."

I turned to leave the shop when I bumped into the two anoraked fans from earlier in the day. The force of impact knocked the first elk's hood down and I found myself staring at the big, brown eyes that I had seen before.

"Hello Dennis" said Elkie.

"Hello Elkie" I replied. Elka removed her hood and their hooves intertwined in a disgusting manner.

"I see you've found someone else" said Elkie.

"Brian and I am just equal co-managers. There is nothing between us" I protested.

"That's not what it looked like to me" she noted.

"Well you're all wrong" I snapped and stormed out of the shop. I'd reached the end of the street when I remembered Mr Penistone's warning. I turned quickly round and returned to the shop to let my equal co-manager Brian know that I'd be in at nine sharp tomorrow morning. In the short time I had been gone, Brian had made cups of coffee for Elkie and Elka.

30th November

I haven't written for a few days as work has been terribly dull. My equal co-manager Brian and I have been avoiding each other. He feels terribly silly over what happens and can't bear to look me in the face. If it weren't for him going out drinking every night with Elkie and Elka I'd worry about him. The flow of customers has petered out and I spend my day sorting and resorting the books. On my own. It's not as much fun doing it alone. It has given me time to think. I will admit to you - My Journal - that some of the thoughts I've had have been of a confusing nature. I keep coming back to the same, terrible, conclusion - I have never been happier than when I was "hanging out" with my equal co-manager Brian Creswell. He understands the importance of proper organisation. He knows the difference between a script and a camera script. He knows the complete Missing Adventures catalogue by heart. Good lord, he can even sort New Adventures into order while wearing a blindfold. He uses nothing more than the thickness of each book. He is an amazing man. I even suspect that the sense of loss that I felt when Elkie left me is as naught compared to the feelings I have when Brian avoids me. I am so confused. I've just spent an hour explaining all this to William Hartnell and I think I have, on balance, come to a decision. I will have it out with my equal co-manager Brian tomorrow morning.