Peter Powell & the Dirty Bomb

I'm an international weapons inspector, a sort of dreamworld Hans Blix, with the most ridiculous handlebar moustache you've ever seen. For some reason I keep twirling it, touching both ends like a stereotypical 1950's cinema villain. I knock on the door of a country house and Peter Powell (the disc jockey) opens the door.
“I've come to inspect your weapons,” I say.
“Please, come in.” Pete is unfazed, ultra-polite and eager to please. He starts showing me around the house as if I were a potential buyer. I'm getting irate, “I need to see what you've got Mr Powell.”
And finally he opens the door to the room. At first it's hard to take in, the enormity of what he's done, what he's hidden away. Inside, the room is full of pop stars of all shape and form. Mainly slung onto loading bays, wrapped in black and yellow tape, with warning signs everywhere:'danger, high explosive', 'detonator', 'radioactive isotopes'. There are Les Gray and Noddy Holder missiles, Rubette cluster bombs, an improvised roadside little Jimmy Osmond with exposed wires, even Bay City Roller grenades. I'm horrified and start playing with my moustache to gain me some time, thinking what to say.
“Come and look at this one,” says Pete excitedly.
He leads me to a corner where there is a coffin shaped box. Inside is a Rod Stewart dirty nuclear device; he's sporting tartan kecks, open necked shirt, feather cut.
“I could make half of London uninhabitable for decades with this one.”
“You shouldn't have it,” I say, weakly.

Martin F, Brighton

(Peter Powell is a radio disc jockey)

Mercury Vague : Exploding bombs in dreams often refer to moving location/ moving houses and with the strong Scottish element I believe this means a move North. Be careful though because Rod Stewart in dreams is thought to be symbolic of decay, maybe dry rot.

celebrity dreams no:27