After Karl going crazy about me finding another builder, I decided to go incognito with my search.
Lightning Hamsters was a show from my childhood. It followed a family protecting the world from The Hat — an evil character whose entire purpose was to cause chaos. Every episode ended the same way: his plans to take over the world completely falling apart.
I’ve rewatched a few episodes in recent years. Honestly, I don’t know how my parents let me sit through them. My attention span has always been horrific, and these episodes were an hour long.
Coming up to the show’s 50th anniversary, Alan La Stream discovered some old vinyl recordings — audio versions of two episodes that were written but never produced for television. He launched a Kickstarter to finally make them. It raised over £218,000.
I’ve never met Alan. I’ve heard stories about him losing his temper with people. But hearing things from the other side later on, I can understand why. He commissioned the puppets, the sets, the vehicles. He even managed to bring back people who had started their careers on the original show — people who’d since gone on to bigger and better things.
Once everything quietened down, I started asking around within one of the guilds I was part of. That’s when I heard about the builder.
He was known for producing the highest-quality replicas you could get. Everything was as close to the originals as possible. The paint was made by the same company that worked on the original series. The hair was goat hair. The reference samples he used came from the original show itself.
Original puppets from Lightning Hamsters occasionally came up at auction, selling for £20,000 and upwards. Those puppets would then be sent to him to be restored.
One of the biggest puppet collectors in the UK owned three of them — all restored by Larry.
One of the guild members reached out to Larry to see if he’d be interested in a project I was thinking about. They passed on my number. Two days later, while I was at work, my phone rang. I ran into the stockroom to take the call.
A strong Welsh accent came down the line.
Hello, Perry. Larry here. I hear you wanted to talk to me. What can I do for you?
I explained the project. He sounded interested. He said he’d come back to me with a price.
When the quote arrived, it was very high. I explained my financial situation. To my surprise, he dropped it to around 30% of the original figure.
Over the next year, I checked in occasionally, asking for progress photos. In the end, it took him over a year to build a single character.
Then I got the phone call.
Perry, I’m in London on Saturday. I’ll bring the puppet. By the way, it’s going to be an extra hundred on top of what we agreed.
I was shocked. After that amount of time, to change the price two days before delivery felt… bold.
We met outside King’s Cross. I had an envelope of cash — all crisp notes. He sat outside a coffee shop near the station. I handed him the envelope. He handed me the box.
Before he left, I told him the envelope didn’t include the extra hundred.
He didn’t push back much. Said the train had cost him a bit to come down. I pointed out that a courier would have been cheaper — and that after waiting over a year, I was still paying the full agreed price.
I don’t know if that moment affected our relationship going forward.
But I do know it felt like the right thing to do.