We had to rush the costumes a bit (nowhere in Britain sells giant spikes! NOWHERE!), but I was Jerry and my gent was the rest. We mock because we care. He had a bit from a bunch, and we felt like spooky bastards gooning about the (haunted) hotel grounds in the dark. Scared a motorist. But he was on the drive instead of the road, so it was OK. We don’t murder here!
See he kinda has young Glenn’s hair, with the back of Doyle’s hair and Graves’ facepaint, and..
I menace you.
There’s this one photoshoot, which I cannot find for the google of me (the red lapels, Doyle and Graves are there, and there is blood? In a diner?)(WAIT, YES I CAN!), wherein there is a photo of Jerry Only and his huge, huge arms drinking from a delicate tea cup with a laugh in his face. I love this picture. My arms are not huge and my lapels are not red, but the rest..
“Hahaha Glenn, no of course you can’t have all the rights! What japes!”
It’s the thought that counts. We had fun!
Whatta couple of nerds. It’s the way to be!