Hello there! The name's John, pleased to meet you!

The man on my doorstep stuck out his free hand to shake mine which I did with a little reluctance due to the high number of Mormon drive-bys we have had lately.

Hello.

I used my cold unwelcome smile that I bestow upon all suspected Mormons. Not that I have anything against their faith, I just don't like the whispery arse-dust that comes out of their mouths and their pallid wet hands.

As if detecting my reluctance to engage with him, Johnny-Bag shook my hand vigorously as if it were a newly installed Hive water pump in Nigeria and he had had a few too many Thunder Dogs the night before.

Eventually, we stopped hand jiving and Johnny-Bag's face took on a sombre aspect.

I live two streets over. Number 48?

He tipped his head in the general direction of some houses nearby.

Ah... Number 48.

I nodded and narrowed my eyes as if I was nobody's fool.

Johnny-Bag faltered at this before visibly conjuring his cheery game-face back from the abyss where my get thee behind me Mormon demeanour had chased it.

We are gathering signatures for a petition. You must have seen the new 5G mast they have put up at the top of the hill?

It was then that I noticed he had a clipboard thick with gnarled paper and a pen hanging by a piece of string from it.

I tilted my body slightly sideways so as to provide a smaller profile to attack in case things started getting a little tasty.

After all, one should always be prepared.

I saw it, aye.

Grudgingly I used a comma in my reply.

It's a bloody eyesore, excuse my French. And that's not to mention the...

Johnny-Bag looked furtively around before taking a small step closer and speaking in a hushed tone as if the CIA were sweeping the area with listening drones.

...health impacts...

He pulled back and fixed me with what can only be described as the ice-cold eyes of the damned.

The health impacts?

I tilted my face slightly upward as if sensing the sweet health benefits tumbling down onto me like gentle rain.

You must have read about it? The effect it has on the immune system, there are lots of studies!

His voice rose into a high-pitched squeal and I imagined him naked, caked in mud and leaves in the nearby woodland chasing the local wildlife with his little todger.

Come to think of it I have been sleeping better lately. You reckon it's good then? Why the petition, to get another one?

I felt a glimmer of excitement build in me. The toilet, a notorious dead spot for WiFi in my house might soon be afire with the 5Gs! Good lord, does life get any better than this?

No more lonely boring shits. Yeehaw!

Noooo. It's not good for you... It's BAAAAAD for you. So so bad. It weakens your immune system and don't get me started on the ties to COVID?!

Johnny-Bag rifled in a bag slung around his shoulder.

Look, I have leaflets.

He held one out.

I examined it without taking it from him. It had a very inflamed and enlarged eye as the backdrop to a large 5G typed in what looked like blood.

Pinkeye?

I shooed his leaflety hand away as if it were one of those friendly dogs with the big heads and massive semi-solid slabbers hanging from its mouth that always tried to wipe their faces on your thigh.

No, not pinkeye?! Covid? And people getting sick with god knows what?

He looked at me in horgrust which is a natty word I made up to combine horror and disgust.
^{_{I will probably submit it to Urban Dictionary as I did with the mighty blurthurt}}

The petition is to get it taken down.

Johnny-Bag thrust his clipboard forward as if I would sign such fucking nonsense.

No thank you. Now... Get off my stoop.

I stepped back, closed the door and wondered to myself.

What actually is a stoop?