Another 95% (Sex and Drugs and Cock and Dole)

ANOTHER 95%
(Sex and drugs and cock and dole)
By Ben Maye
Another 95%
About the author!..
Ben was born in Oldham Lancashire, moved to Spain for several years and now lives in Surrey with his wife (and best friend) Julie. He has three grown up sons; Ben, Nathan & Harley and a young granddaughter, Hollie ! I feel sorry for Hollies boyfriends when she gets older. If any of this books character types go anywhere near her, hell have four of us to deal with!.. In his spare time he has recently got back involved in his first love, music production and enjoys polluting the ambience of Englands south coast & countryside at the weekends on his Harley Davidson with his old school mate Yogi Err, I mean Barrie!!! www.benmaye.com
Sex and drugs and cock and dole
! Text Copyright Ben Maye 2013 The moral right of the author has been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is produced and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent reader. benmaye@yahoo.com Version 2
Another 95%
Index
Part 2
Preface Foreword Introduction Warning Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool Openers, closers & windows Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens Flashing, gashing and Elvis bashing Blowbacks, whizz and mushrooms Dead dogs, hunting pigs and laws of probability Roulette, UFOs and Dovestones Convents, anal probes and Profumo affairs I II III IV page 1 page 17 page 33 page 49 page 61 page 81 page 91 page 107 page 121 page 143 page 159 page 175
Another 95%
Preface
All characters and incidents appearing in this work are real. Some names and places have been changed to protect the guilty. This has now made its contents only 95% true. Which bits, though? Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely intentional. Yes, I am still that much of a bastard!....
is what I would write if I was stupid, so for legal reasons, the above statement is possibly not true, but probably is. !
Ben Maye
Foreword
In case you didnt read the first book, 95% (an uncensored biography for men that never grew up), there are three definitions you need to understand before reading this book: a cheeky wank, an angry wank and a noisy wank. A Cheeky Wank can be either cracking one off discreetly at home, candidly in a public place, or being pulled off by a third party in an unconventional place, for example, on the back seat of a bus. An Angry Wank is one of those itches you just cant scratch, where you violently pull yourself all around the bedroom, banging into walls and trying to find things to stick up your arse, in an effort to ejaculate and when you finally do cum, its only a little flob you just about manage to throw over your thumb. And finally, a Noisy Wank is one of those orgasms where your entire body reaches a euphoric state. You lie flat on the bed, totally relaxed and at climax you cant help shouting out to your maker, e.g. Jesus Christ, Oh my fucking God, Kill me now, you bastard, etc. Or at least subconsciously moan so loudly that your mum knows exactly what youre doing and how much of a mucky little bastard you really are! You can usually spray your chest with one of these wanks but on a good day you might even hit your chin! A Soapy Tit Wank is something completely different and far more enjoyable but as its meaning eponymously goes without saying, Im not going to waste your time or mine stating the fucking obvious! Any other terminology you dont understand well, youll just have to work it out for yourself, or look it up in an urban dictionary! Enjoy !
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Another 95%
Introduction
Another 95% (sex and drugs and cock and dole) is the continued story, based on real events, of the three main characters and how their lives unfortunately interacted with devastating effects. It is a realistic and humorous portrayal of trying to find work in the 1980s in the north of England. Although based on specific people, it is the story of thousands of similar lives in hundreds of towns throughout the UK. Victimisation, brutality, vulgarity and criminality were the realities of life and not the happy, fluffy versions portrayed in middle class family sitcoms that are still rammed down our throats to this day and have been for the past 40 years. We created our own humour, made our own realities and often fucked it all up! That is the true reality and the story of Another 95%.
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Warning
N O T F O R G IR L S !
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Another 95%
Part 2
Chapter 1 - Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

After two years of 6 form life and thousands of pounds worth of wasted taxpayers money, they left without a single A level between them. I dont just mean Yogi and Casino, I mean everyone last one of them failed every fucking subject! It was the most pointless waste of time and money imaginable. Timpson the Bastard insisted that the worst exam results in the history of the borough, if not the country, were down to the lowest calibre of pupils he had ever encountered, whereas everyone knew it was down to the piss-poor teaching methods, piss-poor teachers and piss-poor management of the school and no-fucker else, end of! There were two simple options left open to everybody, either go back for a third year of hell, to re-sit all the exams again, or attempt to find that rare commodity in Thatchers Britain called a job. A career was impossible, no one stayed put for long before redundancies hit and so it was just a case of keeping moving to keep alive. Casino and Yogi bounced from job to job before either walking out or being dismissed. Some sink, some swim. It was obvious that they would at least tread water and survive, whereas Joey was well and truly fucked! He didnt have the intelligence, cunning or gusto to survive in the dog-eat-dog world of the early 1980s, so he just sat in his grandmas house watching The Mr Men month after month. Yogi got sacked from everywhere he worked. Casino left before they had the chance to do so. For a while, Yogi had a job collecting rent from tenants on a council estate for the Housing Department. It was a dangerous job, as in those days it literally meant knocking on doors, collecting rent and carrying a bag full of cash that grew in size after each payment received, all around the dodgiest part of town. He quickly learned when to run and when to hide, as well as how to make some filthy lucre on the side. (That wasnt an intentional rhyme!) !
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Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher
His favourite blag was taking money from the mentally handicapped care-in-the-community customers, who happily handed him their rent that they had received from the housing benefit department of the council. Yogi put it in his pocket and wrote no payment this week in his ledger. He had enough of these customers on his round to make a good living from and he figured that when the shit hit the fan, he would just plead that they were all mental, definitely hadnt paid him in months and had probably eaten it, the poor, dribbling, window-licking fuckers! This could have worked well if he had just stuck to one retard but his greed got the better of him, as usual, and it was obvious, if not provable, that he had been ripping them off. His boss finally asked him to leave or he was going to monitor his every movement and would catch him eventually. Yogi told him to fuck off or he would be monitoring his foot going right up his arsehole! Eventually he just left and chalked it up as a win. Meanwhile Casino got a job in a toothpaste factory. He hated it, as he was surrounded by monkeys in clothing. His work mates very loosely termed - were The Sun-reading morons with too much to say and absolutely no content whatsoever. They all supported the National Front and only then did he realise he was an anti-Nazi, as he argued politics with them constantly. He had never given it a thought before then but to sit and listen to middle-aged men indoctrinating young 16-year-olds just starting their working lives with racist bullshit was too much. He was now 18. He looked at these men that had worked there, some for 25 years and he could see the 16 year olds becoming them in 25 years time. The circle of life! Sad, sad fuckers, he thought. I wont be seeing the week out at this rate. Their idea of humour was Dads Army and The Good Life and having to listen to Bucks Fizz, Dollar and Status Quo all day long was really starting to grit his shit. Casino was clearly no angel and he had done some seriously bad shit over the years, but these retards were on another planet. They spat, pissed and emptied the contents of their nostrils into the vats of toothpaste in an attempt to humour
Another 95%
each other. At first this seemed like good fun but after the first hour on his first day, it became predictably boring. Casino looked on in amazement as after all of their contaminating pranks, he watched them stealing tubes of the product to take home to their families!! The last straw was on the day he walked and never went back after witnessing some ape contaminating a vat. From that day onwards he never used toothpaste again in his entire life, choosing to substitute it with either bicarbonate of soda, salt and much later, mouthwash. (I dont need to go into detail; its obvious to anyone that read the last book, but toothpaste is also white, okay? Enough said?) During this period, Casino and Yogi rented a flat together in the centre of Royton, which they christened The Shag Pad, as waiting for Friday and Sunday nights when Casinos mum and dad went out so they could bring girls back was becoming very restrictive. They had started nightclubbing around the town and in Rochdale. They had tried Manchester city centre but found that small-town girls were much easier. The flat had two bedrooms and was directly above an Indian takeaway, with a large lounge and stairs out of the back and into an alleyway. Mealtimes were easy. One of them shouted down from the kitchen window to the Indian chef below and he would cook them whatever they liked and even got one of the lads to take it up to them. Although they always offered, he only took payment from them every now and then. Perfect! They worked whatever shitty jobs they were currently suffering and lived for Friday and Saturday nights. Friday was lads night. This meant 5 or 6 of them all crammed into a car driving around the local clubs, stopping at whichever one had the best talent that night. Casino and the others would charm their way round the place until they came across a potential winner, then stayed put, concentrating their attention on either copping off that night or arranging a date the following night, where they were definitely having it. Yogi, on the other hand, had his own technique and couldnt be arsed with all the charming bollocks. He didnt want a conversation, he wanted a shag and seeing the same girl two nights running sounded
ridiculous to him. He had one simple technique. After drinking his weight in beer, he would find the exit as a starting point, and working his way clockwise around the room, he asked every girl not with a bloke the same question: Fancy a fuck, love? Fuck off you cheeky bastard! or In your fucking dreams! and Wait till my boyfriend gets back from the toilet, hell kick your fucking teeth in! All water off a ducks back. He had heard their responses over and over but was completely unperturbed. This was a numbers game and eventually, 9 nights out of 10, one girl would snigger drunkenly, smile and say, Cheeky bastard. Translating these signals as, Yes, please, and by the way, I do swallow! he would then sit down and turn on the raw charm he was capable of, followed by a bent over shag round the back of the club. Occasionally, he would work his way around the club until he finally arrived back at the exit. If he was still on his own by then, it was time to go home to throw one over his thumb. Look, if they arent going to part their piss-flaps on the first night, they dont get a second chance to do so the night after, their loss! he would quote whenever Casino challenged his attitude towards women. They took it in turn to be designated driver, with the intention that one of them would stay sober, chauffeur the others around and get them home in one piece. This rarely happened, as the police had a much more relaxed attitude toward drinking and driving in those days and 4-5 pints followed by a short drive home was socially acceptable by many. Over a few months, all their cars were off the road, having been wrapped around crash barriers, walls and lampposts. One night Clinton had borrowed his dads Mercedes to take them out in but during the course of the evening, he had started to drink. By 2am, he was slaughtered and incapable of pissing straight, let alone driving in a straight line.
Another 95%
Dont worry, Ill drive, said Yogi, staggering into the drivers seat. Are you sure youre okay to drive? asked Casino, putting his belt on in the passenger seat. Yeah, fine. Ive only had 6 or 7 pints. Come on, get the fuck in. I need to get to my wanking pit, said Yogi, watching four of them squeezing into the three rear seats, falling on top of each other. Oi, watch my ribs you twat! Fuck off and move over. Move where? Ill be sitting in the road if I move another inch! Best place for you, you turd. Giggles!farts! Come on, get in, for fucks sake! As they were pushing, pulling and farting in the back of the car, Yogi started the engine and got himself ready to pull away. Unfortunately, being drunk, he accidentally took the handbrake off. As it was parked on an inclined road, the car started to roll backwards. No one noticed as it picked up momentum and headed off down the hill. Right, Im in, said Clinton. Stop sitting on my balls, said John. Turn the heating on; its fucking freezing in here. Try closing the back door then, bell-end. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Oh fuck, I need to piss, said Casino as he pulled his cock out and took the edge off it by slashing in the foot well. Crash. As the car rolled backwards with the door open, it picked up speed until it reached around 15mph. At that point, the door collided with a lamppost and sheared clean off, bending the sills and door post. Oh fuck! Brake, BRAKE! Yogi slammed the brake and pulled the handbrake back on as the rear door went past them on the passenger side.
Oops! he said then burst out laughing as Casino creased over in agony with laughter, too. Clinton started crying. You bastard, my dads going to kill me. Im dead, Im fucking dead! After a minute Casino broke the silence. Im trying to think of something positive to say but there isnt anything. You are fucking dead! Sorry mate, but it serves you right letting this twat anywhere near the drivers seat! They held the door in the place where it should have been and drove off. Yogi drove straight to his flat, parked up, bid them goodnight and fucked off inside to bed! Bastard, is he not even going to take us home first? Doesnt look like it, said Casino, getting out. I dont know why you even bother with him; I told you hes a twat! Night-night! Then he also walked inside to his bed leaving the four of them sitting crammed into the back seat looking at each other blank-faced. --------------------------------------------Joeys life was going nowhere. Even Casino and Yogi had tired of him and completely forgotten he existed. He had taken to staying in bed until the middle of the afternoon, as there was nothing to get up for except once a fortnight when he had to go and sign on for his dole money. Even though his Grandma woke him and shouted at him, he always overslept and was late attending. The girl that had to sign him eventually changed his signing on time to 11:30am, giving him a couple of extra hours to get there. He thought she was so kind, as it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. The reality was that she took early lunches and in doing so, managed not to have to deal with him ever again! One afternoon after being shouted at to get up for a couple of hours, Joey lay in his pit, staring at the ceiling, contemplating his pointless existence. He suddenly sat bolt upright in bed in agony, as he had woken in the middle of a dirty dream and wasnt quite over it when his Grandma slammed a breakfast tray straight down on the end of his hard-on, bruising his bell-end in the process.
Another 95%
After eventually making his way downstairs, he sat for a few minutes with the newspaper and attempted to read it but eventually gave up, as he could only work out one word in every four. He switched on the TV as The Mr Men just started. Cool. He was just getting into it when an advert at the foot of a magazine his Grandma had been reading caught his eye. It was for careers on an oil rig in the North Sea. 400 per week. Wow, thats a great wage for 1982! he said informatively, so the readers of this book could appreciate his excitement, remembering this book was written about a different period in time!! Joey decided to seek his fortune on the rigs, figuring he would be okay there, as nobody bothered washing, so they were all dirty smelly bastards too! He packed his rubber-ring in a Tescos bag and left home. He guessed that the North Sea must be somewhere in the Bristol Channel and as he once had seen the sea in Rhyl, North Wales, he figured it must be somewhere near there, so he set off to hitchhike on the M62. He didnt have much luck at first. Most cars just flew past him and the ones that did pull over mostly pulled off again as soon as they took a look at him. Eventually, one car stopped and let him in. It travelled about 50 feet before the brakes slammed on, the door opened and Joey was thrown out onto the hard shoulder on his arse. This happened again and again, all day long. The farthest he had managed was around one mile and that was in a Rentokil van. He had only lasted so long because the driver had spent the day down a sewer covered in shit and hadnt noticed Joeys rotten B.O. By the end of the day he reached Birch Service Station, less than five miles from where he had started. Each day from dawn until dusk he progressed a mile or two, surviving on the crap he found strewn along the hard shoulder of the motorway, thrown from passing vehicles, and occasionally by eating his own shit!
After six weeks, he finally arrived in Prestatyn and thought, Fuck it, this is close enough! He smoked a couple of ciggies sitting on a jetty contemplating the next part of the journey. He had just started to inflate his rubber-ring with a ducks head on the front when he noticed an unattended rowing boat. He looked around to see if anybody was watching then, realising he had spent too many years with Casino and Yogi, decided to steal it. He untied the rope that was keeping it moored to the jetty, jumped in and began rowing. After an hour a crowd had congregated to watch him. There was only one oar in the boat (Welsh idea of a crook-lock), so he had been going round in circles. As he had been using his wanking arm, he hadnt realised how long he had been rowing. Over the next few weeks, the tourism trade of Prestatyn doubled, as people came from miles around to see the monkey in the boat go round and round in circles nonstop all day long. Everyone figured he was going for some sort of world record so they happily let him continue. Eventually, someone in the crowd, presuming he was a retard in trouble, suggested swapping the oar over every couple of rows, in canoe fashion. After a few hours trying to explaining this to him, he eventually got the idea and disappeared into the horizon. Six months later, having accidentally traversed the north coast of Scotland, he found an oil rig and began to scale its legs. On the platform, he came across the workers and was euphoric to find they were actually dirtier and smellier that he was. He was put on cleaning duties, which basically meant wiping oil off the machinery, drills, chains and pipes. He couldnt see the point as by the time he had finished, he had to start all over again but he got fed and was left alone, no hassle. Every day he sat on the edge of the platform, legs dangling over the side with his flares rolled up past his hideously knobbly knees, daydreaming and smoking a cheeky fag, which was banned for obvious reasons working with crude oil and gas.
Another 95%
One night, a few months later, while trying to remember what a woman looked like, he carelessly flicked his fag dimp over his head, behind him instead of off the edge and into the sea. It rolled down the drill shaft and 30 seconds later there was a massive explosion. His hair stood on end and he emptied the contents of his bowels into his knickers, realising what he had just done. Sirens sounded, lights flashed and floodlights lit the rig like a football stadium. After hours of fire fighting, the flames were finally extinguished. Joey hid in a locker but was found and dragged before the charge-hand, who immediately dismissed him and had him thrown over the side. He inflated his rubber ring and started paddling in the direction of a coastline. Unfortunately, he landed in Norway! He was instantly deported to Sweden, who in turn deported him to Denmark, who pushed him over the border into Germany, who then dumped him onto the Dutch. The day after he was kicked over the Belgian border, who expelled him directly to France. He finally arrived in Dover, tied up with a note attached to him that read: Cesser de nous envoyer tout votre merde, connard dAnglais, bouffeur dufs et du lard! which loosely translated as, Stop sending your shit over to us, you egg and bacon eating English bastards! -------------------------------------------Yogis drinking had been getting more and more out of control. He had started swamping his bed (waking up in the morning lying in his own piss). On a bad night, there was so much of it the following morning that he must have been pissing like a racehorse all night long. This didnt go down well when he brought girls back for a shag, hence why he always tried to fuck them outside nightclubs or in the back of cars, as it was easier and less hassle than dealing with them in the morning covered in piss! On one occasion when he did bring a girl home because she refused to be fucked over a dustbin,
Yogi awoke around dawn to a warm, comfortable sensation. Opening his eyes, he looked around, trying to remember where he was and why there was a pig lying next to him. He panicked as he realised why he had woken up. Peeling back the covers, he found that he had been horse pissing again but this time the girl next to him was also covered in urine. He quickly got out of bed and dashed into the kitchen, returning with a pint pot filled with cold water. He gently got back into bed then threw the entire glass of water over her arse. With a startled scream, she jumped up. What the fuck do you think youre doing? Shit, sorry, he said. I was dying of thirst so I got a glass of water but I accidentally dropped it in the bed. For fucks sake, Im pissed through. Dont worry Ill get you a towel. Ok thanks. Dont mention it, my pleasure, he said with a broad smile. Youre not as much of a twat as I heard you was after all. Well, thats me all over, misunderstood! Anyway, as were awake, fancy another fuck? Go on then you smooth bastard! One Sunday lunchtime Casino and Yogi sat around in the lounge of the Shag Pad watching shit television. It was too early for Terrahawks but neither could bear the thought of an hour of Weekend World waiting for it to come on. Fancy going for a pint? asked Casino. Fuck it, why not? Lets go to the Railway Hotel. Theres a band on this afternoon. You can fuck right off. Im not going watching a shitty pub band! Why not? Because anyone that gets up to play in a pub is a sad wannabe twat! Theyre just playing at being pop stars and for every 1% that are okay, youve got to sit through 99% utter shite! Feel strongly about it then, do you?
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Yes I fucking do! Jesus, Im sorry I asked now. Good, saves you making the mistake of ever asking again! Okay, Royton Band Club it is then cheap beer and piss-poor company. I know but I have to suffer you anyway. Sounds like a relaxing Sunday afternoon to me, said Casino grabbing his jacket. Lets go. They strolled into the taproom and ordered a couple of pints. Casino took a long, hard swig that refreshed him thoroughly. Hair of the dog, I wonder what clever bastard thought of that one? He turned to look at Yogi, who had walked over to the glass door dividing the tap from the concert room. There was some sort of do on. Lots of smartly dressed people, a table full of plates of food covered in cling-film and a DJ setting up his equipment for an afternoon party. What do you think? he asked Casino. Suppose itll be better than another fucking Indian for tea. Lets wait until it gets going a bit then gate crash. Ok, fancy a game of Snooker? Why not? An hour later, the party was in full swing, with lots of Hi-Ho silver lining and There goes my first love bollocks. Ok, lets go for it, said Casino as he pushed open the door, walked to the far corner of the room as inconspicuously as possible and sat down. Yogi followed, looking at a table of fat girls in nylon frocks and a cripple in a wheelchair. Did you see them lot? he asked. Yes I did and no were not! Casino replied. What? You know what. Theyre all dogs and were here for a relaxing day, nothing else. Yes, but. But nothing. Sit down, eat the buffet and enjoy yourself. You dont always have to be trying to shag
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something, you know? You can actually go out, have a beer and a chat and then go home again. Why would you want to do that when theres ripe fanny around? Gods truth! sighed Casino. Hiya, you all right? said a girls voice from behind them. They both turned to see a rather plump girl in a pink layered frock that made her look like she should be spending December on the top of a Christmas tree. Have you got a mirror, love? asked Casino. Err, yes, why? Well, take it out, then look at you, look at me. It ain't going to happen, so fuck off! he said turning back to his pint. The girl stood looking shocked and hurt. Ignore him, love, said Yogi pitching, hes just on his period. Are you a friend of the bride or the groom? he said, moving his face very closely to hers in an attempt at seduction. Neither, Im the daughter of the deceased. Its my dads funeral. This is his wake! Oh fuck! said Yogi under his breath as Casino spat his beer across the table, choking on it. Err... can I get you a drink, love? said Yogi quickly. Ill have a Cinzano and Coke, she snapped, glaring at Casino, who smiled back apologetically. Well done, you twat, said Yogi as he got to his feet and set off towards the bar. The disco started and the food was uncovered. Yogi and Casino ate three plates full each of chicken drumsticks, egg & cress sandwiches, pineapple & cheese on cocktail sticks pushed into a potato covered in tin foil and lots of individual trifles. After a couple more beers, Yogi was back in full-Yogi mode. The fat girls looked slimmer and the glimmer from the wheelchair was teasing his prick. Come on, lets move in on The Flumps; we should get something there. Yes, a fucking dose, most probably! replied Casino. Just look at them.
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I have been for an hour but you can have first pick. Okay then, I pick the poor fucker they just buried. Hes got to look better than that shower of shite. Youll get statically electrocuted if you dance with that lot. Thats not a glitter ball youre looking at, its sparks from the nylon rubbing against all those thunder thighs! Oh fuck off you miserable twat, Im going in, said Yogi dismissingly as he walked across the dance floor towards the table of girls. Hiya darling, do you fancy a dance? he said to the girl in the wheelchair. Fuck off, you cheeky twat, said one of her protective friends, or Ill get my brother to beat you up. Im being serious, replied Yogi. Yeah right, you funny bastard, havent you noticed shes in a wheelchair? Yes, but thats doesnt bother me, he said, turning towards the cripple, I think youre really pretty and I can push you around a bit if you want. Im fucking warning you, you rotten bastard. My brothers only over there and hell kill you, said her friend. No, leave him, its ok, said the girl in the wheelchair, having never been asked to dance before, let alone been kissed. Obviously Yogi had already realised this fact and had calculated her to be the easiest target, as she would be grateful for the attention. Even when slaughtered, his brain worked in autopilot, using the theory of probability to predict the best possible outcome from any fanny-related situation, which always directed him towards the easiest option. He walked behind her, took off the brake and pushed her into the middle of the dance floor. Casino spat his beer out a second time as he watched with mouth wide open and jaw inoperative. Everyone else in the room stopped talking and watched in stunned silence as he proceeded to push, pull and swing her around the dance floor, laughing and joking with her. She was also clearly enjoying herself and openly laughed along with him. Suddenly, everybody started smiling,
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clapping and getting up to dance along with them as loud sighs of Aww bless, travelled around the room. What a nice boy to dance with her, and Ahh lovely. Casino stood up, downed his beer and threw his jacket over his shoulder. Fuck this, Im out of here! he said in dismay as he walked across the dance floor, through the emergency exit and out of the building. Several hours later, Casino heard keys in the front door, followed by footsteps on the stone steps coming up into the kitchen. He turned to see Yogi open the door and walk into the lounge. All right? said Yogi as he flopped onto the settee and started to watch the TV. Well? asked Casino. What happened? Yogi looked at him, puzzled, then twigged, Oh, the wake? Yes, it was a good do. And, what happened afterwards? Nothing. Well, I took her back to hers. AND? Okay, okay, so I fucked her. You fucked a spastic? Shes not a spastic, shes just in.awheelchair. Yes, exactly, a spaz! It was good though. What, fucking a spacker? Getting her into bed was the hardest part, though. What, she didnt want to know? No, I mean I had to park her wheelchair at the foot of the stairs and carry her up to bed! Jesus! said Casino, disturbed at the mental imagery. I know, she weighed a fucking tonne! Worth it, though. How? How the fuck could it have been worth it? Well, she had no feeling from the waist down, so I could slap her arse as much as I wanted and she didnt care. Halfway through, when she wasnt looking, I whipped it out and stuck it up her arse to finish myself off. She didnt even notice. Perfect!
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Another 95%
You really are a sick fuck, you know? said Casino in disgust. Yeah, I know, youve been telling me for years. Also, because she couldnt move or wriggle about, when I closed my eyes it felt like fucking a corpse. Actually, thats the point when I shot my load, come to think about it. I never understood necrophilia before but now I get it! Casino walked off into the kitchen to make a brew, but mainly to get away from Yogi.
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Another 95%
Chapter 2 - Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Another year passed by, and nothing changed for Joey; nothing ever did. He slipped back into his usual onespeed self: slow, one style, rancid! He daydreamed about nothing in particular, leaning against the back door of Hairy Berts cafe along with all the other tramps, waiting for the scrap bins to be thrown out into the rat-infested back yard. Suddenly his daydreaming was disturbed by a voice he recognised. Joey? He slowly turned his head to see who it was. He couldnt believe his eyes. Standing in front of him was his childhood reason for cardboard-fronted pyjamas. Jean. His eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth began to form a smile, then stopped and returned downward to a frown and a look of intense fear as he remembered their last meeting. I said hiya. In a microsecond Joey took off running down the alley faster than he had ever managed before. Come back you silly bastard, whats wrong? Joey only managed a few yards before his smokefilled lungs gave in and he doubled over coughing violently, gasping for breath. Fuck it, he thought as he lit up another cigarette, waiting for the inevitable kicking he was expecting to receive. Whats wrong? asked Jean, as Joey stood cowered against a back gate, his arms over his head for protection. I-I thought you was going to kick the shit out of me, he stuttered, still expecting a smack in the mouth. Why? replied Jean, looking puzzled. Then she realised what he was talking about. God, that was years ago; you dont think Id hold a grudge that long, do you? Err, well, I dont mumbled Joey, still unsure if he was going to receive a swift kick to the bollocks. Anyway, what are you doing these days, then?
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Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies
Oh you know, replied Joey, the same as usual. Yeah? Fuck all then, eh? asked Jean rhetorically. Hows the action on your side of the street? What the fuck was that? Have you been watching West Side Story or something? said Jean sarcastically. Well, to be honest, quiet, very quiet. Business just isnt the same these days, not since I got arrested for making those movies with that dog. That bad, huh? Worse, she replied, head in hands. You know, Im thinking of giving the whole thing up and just getting a job or something. Never! said Joey in astonishment. Yes, Im serious. Im just so lonely. You dont think about how lonely the life of a working girl is when the punters have gone, do you? Err, no, I cant say that I have. If I could just find a man to look after me, then Id throw away my douche bag tomorrow. Yeah, me too, said Joey. What, youre looking for a man? No, God no, I meant if I could just find someone willing to have me then Id sort myself out and settle down too. Oh, said Jean, miles away, thinking of happier times. A few moments later she turned to him, Hey, fancy a coffee? I cant, Hairy Bert banned me from going into the caf as I put her customers off. What, that shithole? said Jean. Fuck me, thats some kind of accomplishment. I wouldnt take a piss in there, let alone eat! Come on, well go to Luigis. Cant, shrugged Joey. What, there too? Jesus. Okay come on, well have to go round to my place, then. Err ok, said Joey warily, remembering the last time he was there.
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Another 95%
As her entered her flat, Joey could see what she meant when she said business was bad. The transformation was amazing. She had had to sell off all her erotic furniture and ornaments to pay her fines and rent. No longer a palace of vice, it resembled a back street Thai knocking shop. Feeling sorry for her, he offered to buy her lunch, as his giro should have arrived at his Grandmas house by now. Youre really nice despite everything else, arent you? she said affectionately, something Joey had never seen in her before. Jean being human was quite unnerving to him. She leaned forward and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek then sat back on her bed, the only item of furniture she had left in the place. She looked him up and down in contemplation, sighed deeply, then asked, When was the last time you had a shag? Err, about an hour after the last time I had a bath, two years or so. I thought as much, said Jean, standing up and moving towards the bathroom. She turned on the bath taps and filled the tub with effervescent crystals. Come on, get your rags off. Why? Because youre having a bath. But why? he asked a second time. Because I havent had a shag today and your bollocks must be like a couple of coconuts by now. It will be doing us both a favour. Phew! panted Joey, collapsing back onto the bed. That was amazing. Well it was interesting, said Jean. What do you mean interesting? asked Joey, pride dented. Well, put it this way, Ive been fucked every way possible, from legally through to immorally, but I can honestly say never with my knickers still on! she said, gesturing with her eyes towards her panties, with an indentation where the majority of them were still deep inside her box.
19
Oh sorry, I got a bit overexcited, didnt I? A bit! You shot up there that quickly Im surprised you had time to take your knickers off, either. She glanced down at the damp patch in the middle of his knickers that had clearly been for a tour of her fallopian tubes. Oh, you didnt! Jean sat up, leaning back on her elbows. Actually, that wasnt too bad. I definitely felt something apart from the gusset against my ovaries! she said sarcastically. I dont know whether it was because thats the first time in years that Ive had it without being paid, but you know what? I actually did enjoy that for myself, come to think of it. Ill have to do it that way more often, I think, speaking in deep contemplation. Why not indefinitely, said Joey without thinking. You was in, definitely, replied Jean, somewhat confused. Youve still got fanny batter round your cock! No, stuttered Joey, I mean... pausing to try to find a way to express himself. Well, what I mean is, you need someone and so do I, so why dont we start seeing each other, or live together orget married or something like that? Jean turned to look at him. Fuck me, thats must be the worst chat-up, move in, marriage proposal, like ever! She turned away to sort out her underwear, then paused. Then again, she thought, her eyes opening wide, it is the only proposal I have ever gotten and am ever likely to get. Other than customers, Ive got no friends and come to think of it, if I could mould him for long enough, I might one day actually get an orgasm out of it. Saying that, as Ive got a fanny like a cricket bag, that would be one hell of an achievement, but still... She jumped bolt upright, turned, looked at him up and down a few times then said, Ok, youre on. OH WOW, you mean you will? asked Joey excitedly. Errwhich one? Well Im not marrying you tomorrow if thats what you mean, but lets see how it goes, okay? Joeys face lit up. Okay, okay anything, he bleated, not sure if this was just another one of those wet dreams he would suddenly wake from to find himself face down in a pile of his own flob and glued to his bed again!
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Another 95%
As long as I can still turn a few tricks when I need some money? she said, looking at him and thinking about his prospects. Which will probably be our only source of income anyway! Yes, anything, replied Joey, still euphoric, but on two conditions. Conditions? snapped Jean. YOU are actually giving ME conditions? Who the fuck do you think youre talking to? Remember, twat, Im the one here doing the favour, OKAY? Okay, cowered Joey. I only wanted you to keep one place sacred for me, though. Like where? frowned Jean, slightly ashamed. Look love, I cant lie to you, I must have had everything known to man rammed up me at some time or other, from live eels to television aerials. Theres nothing left untainted apart from my left nostril but if you want, from now on Ill save my dirt box for you alone, okay? Okay, smiled Joey .and secondly... Jean scowled again. Go on. I want kids, Joey chirped casually and matter-offactly. Kids! said Jean, taken by surprise. She paused for a moment then smiled. Kids, in a softer tone, Ive never thought about kids but fuck it, why not, she said, surprising herself. Im not getting any younger and the doctor said he cant find any coils big enough to stay up my flute, anyway. Hes looking at trying a shock absorber off a Yamaha FS1E next! Okay then, lets do it properly, said Joey assertively. Do what? I still havent got these knickers out of my crack yet! No, I mean, lets get married and have kids. When? Next week. Next week? said Jean, stunned. But theres so many things to sort out, isnt there? realising she knew nothing about the subject.
21
Err, I dont know, said Joey, also clueless, but what can there be to do? Invitations, for a start, said Jean. Invitations to who? I havent got any friends, my mum massacred my family and my Grandma got that bad recently shes started eating her own shit. Actually, said Jean, come to think of it, the only people I have to invite are punters and I dont think it would go down too well with the vicar when he asks, Do you take this woman and the whole congregation stands up and says, We already have! So what shall we do? Ah sod it, lets go down to the registry office, and nip in the off-licence on the way back, then fuck like bunnies for a month. -----------------------------------------Casino had been working in a bonding warehouse on Chamber road for a few months. The pay was shit, the conditions were shit and some of the workers left a lot to be desired. That said, they were definitely an improvement on the toothpaste factory vermin. At least there was nothing edible for them to flob into! The work mainly consisted of being given a list of clothing, shirts, dresses etc. with different styles, sizes and colours then basically going around the warehouse floors picking out the items on the list, boxing them up and sending them to the dispatching department. The problem was the same as most factory structures, in that the supervisors and floor managers had gained their positions by time served, not by ability or manmanagement. This meant jumped up little twats that, although they had been average retards at school, suddenly thought they were better than everyone else, suffering from acute megalomania. The women were often the worst. If you didnt show them the attention they craved by flirting with them, you were dismissed as not fitting in and your working days were numbered. They ran a fast-track training program for workers
22
Another 95%
that brown-nosed and fitted in. Casino was definitely not earmarked for this scheme. He played the game as much as his temper would permit, trying to keep a low profile until something better came along. Although he had been moved from department to department four times already for not fitting in, he put Yogi forward for a position breaking down commercial sized cardboard boxes in the back room, which he had been successfully interviewed for and started the following Monday morning. By Wednesday he had lost the will to live with the tedium and started finding places to sleep. These were mainly inside the cardboard boxes he was supposed to be working on. They still lived for the weekends, so they tolerated it in whatever way they could just for beer money. One Friday night in the Candlelight club, Yogi was slaughtered by 10pm as usual, as the others were busy working on their potential fuck-buddy for that night, turning on the charm and pulling out all the stops. Clinton had been blown out already by a couple of girls that clearly had taste. He was trying out his latest chat up lines but nothing was working. Excuse me, love, but youve dropped something. What? said the pretty girl looking down at the dance floor, her mates doing likewise. My jaw! smiled Clinton. The girl walked off, not even prepared to acknowledge his existence. Casino slapped him across the head for being such a twat. Excuse me, love, he said as the next pretty girl walked by. Fucking hell, sighed Casino, here we go again. I was just wondering. Wondering what? Who was the thief that stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes? What? said the girl, screwing up her face in disgust, as though she had just smelt a fart. Wanker! Then she walked off.
23
As the others gave Clinton a kicking, Casino walked off. Id rather have a conversation with Yogi in the state hes in than hang around with you sad tossers any longer. Yogi was busy working his own silver-tongued lines. Excuse me love, can you swim? Yes? Well, do you fancy doing a length on this then? pointing to his cock. Fuck off! Hiya darling, its my birthday today. Is it? said a girl, completely disinterested. Yes it is; do you fancy coming back to my place and whipping my bollocks with shoelaces while singing for hes a jolly good fellow? Wanker! Ok, I take it back! said Casino walking towards the bar to get pissed. By 1am, Clinton was still looking for his 10-to-2-er, trying all his charm, but was still getting nowhere. Casino was smooching with a little blonde on the dance floor and Yogi had his tongue stuck down the throat of a little fat Shaw Gorby. As the club closed, Casino left with his new bird, Clinton walked home alone, again, as usual and Yogi took the Gorby round the back of the dustbins. Pissed up, he staggered side to side with his cock out, trying for a bulls-eye as she bent over the bins with her knickers around her knees. Come on, urry up, its bastard freezin out ere. Shut it and hold your flange still. I am still, its you wobblin about, yer pissed up twat! Ok here goes, said Yogi as he rammed forward and slipped inside her. Oww, yer bastard, thats mi fuckin arse! Oh well, Im in now. I might as well finish off. Casino awoke to the sound of crashing and banging as Yogi fell into his bedroom with his anally soiled slapper in tow. Get off me youre pinchin mi fuckin skin. Ah fuck off.
24
Another 95%
Casino and his girl listened to the commotion from the next room, giggling as the argument got louder. Eventually their bedroom door flew open and a barely female female stood in the doorway. Your mates a right bastard! she said. I know, replied Casino, Whats he done now? I let him bum me earlier and now he tells me to fuck off when I asked him to get me a drink! Casino pissed himself laughing as Yogi walked into the room stark bollock naked. Come here, you daft cow, he said, dragging her back to bed. A couple of hours later, after what seemed like 10 minutes sleep, they woke again to the sound of screams and shouts. They opened Yogis door to a barrage of abuse as the Gorby stormed past them half dressed, carrying the other half of her belongings with her. The bastard just pissed all oer mi! she shouted, pushing them out of the way. Casino looked back at Yogi, unconscious in a pool of his own piss, with squirts of urine still dribbling out of the end of his cock. Splashdown! Monday lunchtime at work, Yogi was sitting in the canteen with all the other workers, telling them about the Saturday night Shaw Gorby incident. Everybody laughed as he told them what he had done to her. Some of he older married men asked for blow-by-blow details, as it had been years since they had had a memorable shag. What, and she just let you carry on bumming her? asked Charlie, one of the older workers, who had been there since he was 15. Yes, absolute filth, replied Yogi. Shes well known as a 10-to-2-er around the clubs. Whats that? he asked. You know, when youve only got 10 minutes before the place shuts and you havent found a shag yet, thats when you go looking for her that is, unless shes already in the blokes bogs with a mouthful of cock.
25
Ohhh, dirty little bitch, said Charlie, getting a lazy lob on. I wish they had whores like that when I used to go out clubbing. Fuck off, they didnt even have clubs when you was young, laughed Casino. Cheeky little twat, he replied. No, tell us some more about her; is she really that filthy? She invented filth, I tell you. She never goes home until shes had a couple of cocks inside her. I wasnt the first in there on Saturday either; it was already frothing when I got the knickers off. Oooh dirty little bitch, he said getting harder thinking about it. So where is she from then? Oh, shes a dirty Shaw Gorby. Oh yeah, whereabouts in Shaw? You know Harry Street? Yeeaahh? Her parents own the off-licence on the corner. The room went instantly deadly silent as Charlie stood up and left the room. Casino looked around then twigged. Whats up? asked Yogi. Thats his daughter, said one of them. His wife runs the offie while he works here for extra cash. Oh fuck, said Casino as the crowd dispersed quietly back to their rooms. Yogi looked around then back at Casino. Fuck him, he shouldnt have asked. He was loving it until he found out the dirty little whore was his daughter. Come on, time for another sleep. Youre unbelievable! said Casino A couple of days later, Yogi sat watching the TV, scratching his bollocks. After an hour of fidgeting, Casino turned to him. Will you leave your cock alone for fucks sake? I cant, somethings itching like fuck down there and it stings when I piss. It must be my undercrackers. Yeah right, stingy piss? said Casino. I suppose it wouldnt be something to do with the cesspits you stick your dick in, would it?
26
Another 95%
Course not, said Yogi, my mums not rinsed my knickers properly or something. An hour later. Oh fuck this, Im going to have to change my strides. This is driving me mad. A minute later he returned to the room panicking. Shit, quick look at my cock! Fuck off you puff, you cant be that desperate. No seriously, look! Casino glanced over tentatively and saw green snot oozing from his Japs-eye. Oh bollocks, he said, laughing, youre fucked. Thats definitely galloping nob-rot. But it cant be, how? You really need me to answer that one? Well, I know where youre going tomorrow morning. The Special Skin Clinic at Boundary Park Hospital. Youll have to come with me. No fucking chance! Why not? And if someone sees me going in and thinks Ive got a dose? No fucking way. Aww come on, youve got to. Im not going on my own. Puff. Okay, it might even be a laugh. Next day they set off with Yogi scratching and thrutching all the way there. After he registered and sat down in the waiting room, Yogi started getting more anxious as Casino chuckled at all the worried faces. Just then the door opened and in walked John and Clinton. All right lads? said Casino. What are you doing here? Silence. Oh yeah! Its him not me, insisted Clinton. Obviously! said Casino sarcastically. And its Yogi, not me, by the way! Yogi turned to John. A Shaw Gorby?
27
A Shaw Gorby, John replied. Yogi was called into the treatment room. Okay, Im going to remove the infection first then treat it so the infection cant return," said the German doctor. Its not very pleasant but it is necessary, Im afraid. Yogi said nothing but just sat there shitting himself. The doctor went to a drawer and returned with what resembled a long cocktail umbrella. What the fuck are you going to do with that? he gasped. Well first I have to insert this down your penis and as I extract it, it opens slightly, scraping all the pus and disease from inside. What, youre going to shove that down my Japseye? How far down? All the way, Im afraid. We have to get it all out. Are you fucking nuts? Yogi gasped. It will be over before you know it. Yogi stood in shock as the doctor took hold of his limp cock and attempted to insert the long instrument down the hole in his bell-end. With every inch the doctor pushed, Yogi moved backwards an inch to compensate, until he was practically doubled over. I am afraid you will have to sit down so I can do this, said the doctor. Yogi sat on a table as the doctor approached him again. Taking hold of his cock, he quickly pushed the umbrella down Yogis Japs-eye as far as it would go. Yogi attempted to move his arse backwards but was stopped by the table. He screamed as he was convinced the umbrella had come out of his arse and was pinning him to the table. The doctor pulled it back out dragging blood, piss and puss with it. Owww, you fucking bastard! screamed Yogi, only relieved that the agony was over and pulling up his underpants. Wait, I havent finished yet. You fucking what? snapped Yogi in disbelief.
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Another 95%
I just have to put some antiseptic down there to kill the germs and prevent further infection, he said, taking something out of a drawer. Yogi gasped as the doctor approached him with what looked like a Q-tip ear bud for removing wax, but four times thicker. You cant fit that fucker down there, surely? It will just take a few seconds. Yogi froze in pain and fear, gritting his teeth as it was rammed back down his cock and out again. He took a deep breath of relief then bolted upright, eyes wide open as the stinging pain of the Dettol-like substance on the end of the Qtip hit him like a kick in the bollocks. Bastard! he screamed, kicking over a table of instruments. Come near me again with that and Ill fucking execute you, you Kraut motherfucker! The doctor jumped into the corner of the room, scared to death, as Yogi went into a rage. It felt like someone had slashed the inside of his foreskin with a razorblade then poured vinegar into the cuts. The door flew open and Casino ran in, having heard Yogis swearing. Is this what you did during the war, you bastard? Where did you do your training, fucking Belsen? Come on, lets go, said Casino, trying to restrain him and dragging him through the doors. CUNT!!! ----------------------------------------------With Jean the size of a 418 bus, the big day arrived. Joey hurried down to the hospital as fast as his brain could get his legs to move, meaning Jean had been in the labour ward for half an hour before he had even left the house. He gave up the walk halfway down the street and caught a bus. As he sat in the waiting room, he felt himself working up a sweat. He suddenly felt so petrified that he smoked twice as many fags as he normally did. The vending machine instantly ran out.
29
Ok Mr Joey, you can come through now, said a voice from the nurses room. Oh shit, said Joey quietly as he followed her into the delivery room. Jean was lying on her back with her legs so far apart that he worried he might fall in. Where the fuck have you been? snapped Jean, hormones raging. If youre going to stay, just sit in the corner, shut up and keep out of the way you useless twat! Gas and air hasnt improved her mood then, thought Joey and he disappeared to the farthest point he could find. Life with Jean hadnt worked out as he had hoped. The honeymoon period lasted a couple of days before the domestic violence started. Cock-withdrawal more serious than anticipated, she regularly beat the crap out of him for no reason at all. Ok Mrs Joey, said the midwife, pulling his head out from between her thighs wearing her ovaries as a bobble hat, we are ready to go. We dont expect any problems; in fact, judging by the size of it, I might as well put a few stitches in now, while were waiting! Oh, and your test results came back and we found hundreds of small deposits of different types of semen in the crevices of your inner vaginal walls, so the chances are your baby could be any size, shape colour or creed! Anyway, take a deep breath and gently push. Ok, said Jean and with the slightest effort, out shot a baby. Jesus! said the midwife. It didnt touch the sides! Jean coughed and out fell another one, then another, then another. White, brown and yellow Why is that one blue? asked Jean, looking at the variety of different-coloured babies coming out of her. Oh, thats ones dead, replied the nurse, sticking it in the bin. Oh okay, fair enough, replied Jean. Fuck me, said a nurse, its like a waterslide! After seven babies, Jeans womb packed up and dropped out onto the floor.
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Another 95%
Joey sat speechless in horrified amazement. Eventually he managed a sentence. B-but, I dont understand, where are they all coming from? Well, said the midwife, inside a womans pelvis is a little room called an ovary where there are literally millions of eggs and what happens is No, I mean why are they all coming out like this? Well, he replied, scratching his head, I can only presume that after we removed her coil several months ago, all the semen that had been building up behind it for years was released and made its way to the nearest eggs, and so consequently! I think youre going to have trouble trying to find names for all of these, arent you? said a nurse, wrapping them up in blankets and piling them onto the lap of a bewildered Joey, still sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. Not really, replied Joey. This one can be Baby Joey 1, this one Baby Joey 2 You can piss off if you think thats happening, snapped Jean, enjoying the piercing needle sewing her flaps back together. I wouldnt name the fucking cat after you!
31
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Another 95%
Chapter 3 Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Yogi stayed in for a week, miserable as hell, trying to get over his traumatic experience at the Skin Clinic. He was on anti-biotics so was not allowed any alcohol. Normally he would have disregarded any medical advice and just done his own thing but the agony and humiliation he went through had scared him and there was no way he was ever going through that again. He decided to stay in for a couple of weeks to resist the temptation of alcohol and sex. He wanted to be sure that the anti-biotics had removed any trace of infection from his cock and that it had fully healed before he drank again. Casino hadnt realised what a miserable bastard he was without a drink inside him; then again, he had hardly seen him sober in almost 2 years. Want to go out for a quiet drink? he asked Yogi. No! We only have to have one, then we can come back and watch a video. No! For fucks sake, have a drink and cheer up. NO! Ok, fancy a curry? Hmm, okay then. What shall I get you? Chicken Tikka Masala. You always order Chicken Tikka Masala, said Casino. Why dont you try something else for a change? Okay, Lamb Tikka Masala. No you twat, I mean something completely different, like a Rogan Josh or a Pasanda, just something other than Tikka fucking Masala. Why? I like Masala. Why change what I like? Oh, I dont know, new experiences, not being a predictably boring twat! Yogi ignored him. Look, start small. Try something like a Chicken Biryani. More taste, less slops. Well?
33
Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping
Okay, for fucks sake, I just want some food, thats all. Casino walked over to the kitchen window and opened it. ABDUL! he shouted down into the back yard. A moment later the back door opened and Abdul the chef looked up. Yes, my friend? Could you knock us up an Aloo Gobi and a Chicken Biryani with extra spices for miserable bollocks, please, mate? Fuck off! shouted Yogi from the lounge. Of course, give me 20 minutes. Cheers, mate. Just whistle when its ready and Ill come and get it. Oh God, I need another shit, said Yogi, getting up. What the fucks wrong with you? Youve only just been. I know. It must be these drugs Im on. Ive already had four dumps today. Ive got an arsehole like a blood orange! Casino continued watching the usual shit on the TV. A few minutes later he heard an almighty scream. Jumping to his feet he ran towards the bathroom, just as Yogi ran out screaming, with his jeans and trollies around his ankles. Whats wrong? he asked as Yogi ran round, still screaming, looking for water. Eventually he jumped up and dropped his arse into the washing up bowl, turning the cold tap on full. Oh fuck, oh fuck! he panted as the pain started to subside. Well I wont be washing my cup in there for a few weeks! complained Casino. What the fuck are you doing? Im in agony, you bastard, replied Yogi. Why, what did you do? Nothing. I just had a runny shit and it dribbled down my arse cheek, so I was looking for something wet to wipe it off with. And? And I used those face wipes on the cistern.
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Another 95%
What face wipes? The ones your mum brought round when she dropped off your ironing last week. Casino walked into the bathroom and returned with the wipes. He read the packet then burst into uncontrollable laughter. What? asked Yogi. Theyre not face wipes, you daft twat, theyre bleach wipes for cleaning the bog with. Youve rubbed bleach all over your arse and bollocks, laughed Casino, creasing in hysterics. Well why the fuck didnt she say so? She did but as you never clean the bog, you obviously didnt bother to listen. Oh classic. Wait until I see the lads tomorrow, he continued, walking back into the lounge still laughing. Twenty minutes later Abdul whistled so Casino went down to collect the food. As usual, he refused payment. Casino poured the contents onto plates then walked into the lounge, handing Yogi his Biryani. This looks shit, he complained. Its just rice. Eat it and stop fucking moaning, will you? Halfway through the meal, Yogi spat a mouthful of rice across the room. What the fuck now? said Casino as Yogi spat more onto his plate then started rummaging around the remaining rice. What the fucking hell is that? he snapped. What? asked Casino, looking across the room at the plate. Its full of fucking cockroaches! yelled Yogi. Look. Is it? Bollocks, lets look. Casino examined the plate and saw half a dozen of the offending articles Yogi was complaining about. Fuck! he said, laughing. You should have stuck with the Tikka Masala. Bastard, Im having that Paki over this one, he said, jumping to his feet.
35
Leave it, hes all right. No. First the clap, then bleach on my arsehole, now this! No way; Ive had enough, he said, storming down the corridor towards the stairs. Kicking open the back door to the Indian Takeaway kitchen, he marched in and started shouting abuse. What is matter? asked Abdul, surprised at his ranting. Ill tell you what, you bastard, look at this, shoving the plate underneath Abduls face. Look at them, pointing to the little black items. Yes, said Abdul. Cardamom pods. Ive got hundreds of them in here, pointing to a large container. Oh, said Yogi, feeling like a right twat, not cockroaches then? Cockroaches? Abdul said angrily. No, cardamoms, now fuck off. I didnt even charge you for it! Yogi walked back up the stairs, head bowed in shame. He sat down quietly and continued to eat the rest of his meal. Sort it then, did you? asked Casino. Yeah, answered Yogi quietly. And? And, I think were on Chinese for a couple of weeks! Casino came home from work a few days later to find Yogi sitting on the lounge floor with the weirdo that rented the flat next door. Casino didnt like him. He looked odd and hardly ever came out. He was probably in his early thirties and looked like he needed a good bath. Casino sat down in his chair and refused to acknowledge his presence. The shower-dodger and Yogi were looking inside a large cardboard box on the carpet. He sensed he wasnt welcome so he stood up to leave. You can have them, mate, no problem, he said to Yogi as he left the room, leaving the box behind. Oh cheers, mate, said Yogi. Ill bring the rifle back next week, okay? Yeah no problem. See ya.
36
Another 95%
As the door shut, Casino turned to Yogi. What the fuck are you doing letting that freak in here? Hes okay. No hes not, hes a weird scruffy council twat and I dont like him. Hes not council, insisted Yogi. Yes he is. He goes to the corner shop in his slippers. Council. Lots of people do that. Yes, lots of council people. Hes even got those slippers with little lions head badges on them; thats totally council. Yogi ignored him and continued rummaging inside the box. Last summer he dragged his settee into the back yard to sunbathe. Now if that isnt fucking council, I dont know what is! Okay, so hes a bit council, but look at the cool stuff hes given us. What is it? Casino asked, looking down into the box. Well, hes let me have his spare hand grenade, replied Yogi, taking it from the box and shoving it under Casinos nose. Hand grenade! Fucking hand grenade! yelled Casino, jumping back to the corner of the room, What the fucking hell is he doing with that? Is it live? Yes and hes got two of them. This is his spare one. Where the fuck did he get them from? Oh, he used to be in the SAS or something but his Missus ran off with another bloke, so he nicked loads of stuff then bought himself out. Hes been trying to find them but theyve disappeared. Fucking hell, Im not surprised. Yeah, he said when he finds them hes going to pull the pin, casually walk over to their car and drop it inside with them in it. BOOM! Cool. Cool, hes a fucking lunatic. Stay away from him and get that out of here.
37
No hes all right. Look, hes given us this too, said Yogi as he lifted out a metal canister. Whats that? Its a flash-bang. And what the fuck is a flash-bang? In fact, dont answer. I dont want to know. And hes given us one of these. He said its called a star-shell--some sort of firework, I think. That rifle looks cool, though, said Casino picking it up, forgetting about the other hardware. Yeah I know. He said I could borrow it for a week. Apparently its the most powerful and accurate air-rifle that you can legally buy. Cool, well have to go down the riverbank ratting with it. And shooting pigeons and squirrels. Squirrels? Why squirrels? Theyre well cute. The red ones yes, but the grey ones are vermin. He told me if you kill them and take their tails to the town hall they pay you a fiver for each one--same with rats tails. Really? Okay, game on for Sunday afternoon, then. Saturday night, Casino went out night clubbing in search of fresh meat to bring home. Yogi stayed in again, stating that he was going to have to break the new cock in with a few cheeky wanks before he was ready to start shagging again. They decided to try Jojos Night Club in Royton for a change and it was a good choice. For some reason the place was wall-to-wall with women. Even Clinton was tonsil tasting by 10 oclock. Casino felt sorry for Yogi, as he was definitely missing out and would be gutted when they told him about it in the morning. His prize for the evening was keen to leave early and go back to his place, but not before her friend had trapped off too. I know, said Casino, bring her back with us. Kinky bastard. I bet youd love to get us both into bed, wouldnt you? No. Well, actually yes--any chance? Fuck off. No.
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Another 95%
Okay, then just bring her back with us. My mate is home and hell take care of her. Take care of her? Shes not a fucking Flid yknow. Whats your mate like, then? Oh, one in a million, smirked Casino. I can promise you she wont be bored--sore, yes, but bored, no! Sounds good. Hang on, hes not an ugly fucker is he? No, actually hes good looking. He just hasnt been himself so fancied a night in. What do you think? Hang on, Ill ask her. A few minutes later she returned. If he turns out to be an ugly bastard, youve got to give us taxi fare to get back here, cause Im not letting her go on her own, okay? Okay, deal. Get your coats; youve both pulled. As they got out of the taxi at Casinos flat, they stumbled up the dark stairs and into the kitchen. All the lights were on and music was blaring from the lounge. Casino showed them through and opened the lounge door. Nothing. Where is he? asked the friend. Dont know. Hes not in the bog; the doors openunless hes gone to bed early. Lets go and look, said Casinos shag-bag. If hes ugly, we can leave him asleep and fuck off back to Jojos. They all walked down the corridor to Yogis bedroom door. Pushing it open, they stood back in amazement to find Yogi fast asleep on his back, his jeans and knickers around his knees, a box of tissues by his head, a wanky-mag in one hand and his discharged cock in the other. They all stood in silence. What was there to be said? Casino pulled a fiver from his pocket and held it up. The girls took it and left looking for a taxi. No one said a single word! Casino grabbed a beer from the fridge and turned on the TV. Half an hour later, the door opened and Yogi walked in. Had a good night? he asked. The following afternoon, Casino and Yogi set off with the riffle in search of anything they could kill.
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Pity we dont see Joey anymore, said Yogi, looking at the gun. Fuck yeah, I wonder what happened to that useless little bastard? said Casino. Hes probably dead by now. Hopefully, replied Yogi. Look I told you he was fucking council, said Casino, pointing to their neighbours flat. He had pegged out some washing on the telephone line between his wall and the telegraph pole opposite. Its like living in fucking Leeds! As they walked down the towpath of the canal, Yogi pointed at a group of men sitting on little buffets fishing. We should come down one day and have a go at that. What, fishing? You can fuck right off. Why not? Because its mindless, pointless and completely boring. Who the fuck wants to sit all day long warming maggots in your mouth and looking at a piece of string? Theres something wrong with them. This is where the Care in the Community brigade spend their time. Youll be asking me to play cricket next! Whats wrong with cricket? Ill tell you whats wrong with fucking cricket, snapped Casino, getting on his soapbox. Apart from it being a pretentious upper class pompous sport for tossers with girlfriends called Penelope or Daphne, who the fuck wants to watch a game that lasts for 5 days!?! Whats the fuck is that all about? After a couple of hours shooting any birds they could find, regardless of whether they were pigeons or not, they wandered back towards the housing estate from where they had started. Look, said Yogi, pointing to a tree by the side of a garden wall. Its a squirrel. Quick, shoot the little bastard. Ok, cool, said Casino, taking aim. Hang on, didnt you say something about grey squirrels? So? So that ones red. So fucking what? Just shoot it before it gets away.
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Okay, fuck it, he said, taking aim again. Stay still, he whispered as he began to gently apply pressure to the trigger. Crack. Splat. The pellet went straight through its neck. As the blood spurted, it dropped out of the tree over the wall and into the garden. Great shot! shouted Yogi, did you see the blood splatter? Fucking cool. A second later they stood still as the sound of screaming children came from over the wall. Suddenly an angry mans head popped up from behind the wall. Oi you bastards, come here, Im going to fucking kill you! he shouted as he clambered over the wall after them. Unfortunately, as the squirrel fell from the tree into the garden, it hit a table that was being used for a small childrens birthday party. It landed on a pile of sandwiches and, still being alive, its blood pumped several feet into the air, covering the food and several of the kids in bright red, fresh, warm blood. Leg it! shouted Casino, throwing the rifle to Yogi as they both took off at top speed. After a mile, they had lost him. What the fuck was that all about? said Casino. No idea, said Yogi, re-loading the rifle. He was a bit touchy about a fucking squirrel, though. Come on, wed better call it a day. That twat might still be looking for us. Hang on its my go--one last kill. They walked towards a large pond with ducks on it. I know, you throw a brick into the pond and as they fly away, Ill bag one. What, the way you shoot? Youll probably end up shooting me! Fuck off and just throw something. Casino found a large heavy piece of tree trunk as Yogi lay down in marksman posture, aiming several feet above the pond, ready for the first thing that flew into his sights. As Casino threw the lump of wood into the centre of
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the pond, the splash created a commotion of flaps and rustles and several birds began to take off. Suddenly he saw something that made him panic. NO! yelled Casino as it caught the corner of his eye. Too late! Crack. Yogi fired. They both looked up to see an enormous pure white swan spurt blood then fall from the sky. Oh fucking hell! shouted Casino. You silly twat. What? said Yogi, chuffed with himself. That was a fucking excellent shot. Oh God, were fucked, were fucked. What do you mean? said Yogi, completely unaware of the situation. Even I know you cant kill swans, Casino snapped. Something to do with them all being the Queens birds or something. They can put you in prison or cut your balls off. Fuck her, how do they know its us? Oh I dont know, said Casino sarcastically, something to do with the police already looking for a couple of cunts with an air rifle shooting red squirrels, which is probably also against the law, and he can give them a description of us. Come on, were off and you dont bring that thing into the flat. Give it back to the council retarded psycho. I dont want any evidence linking it to me. Two weeks later was bonfire night. Casino bought a box of Standard Fireworks, a few crates of beer and a bucket of treacle toffee. Nice! Clinton and John came round with a couple of old doors they found on the tip, an Asda trolley full of old wood and a jerry can of petrol. Abdul gave them a couple of Keema Naans and so they were sorted. After accidentally setting fire to a telegraph pole in the back alley, they finally got it under control and sat on upturned milk crates getting bolloxed. Yogi sent Clinton to the offie for some more crates of beer and some bangers, then they spent the next hour throwing them at each other.
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After a combination of Rockets, Catherine wheels and Ripraps (fucking kids these days, theyve got no idea what a Riprap was! Great fun until the bastards banned them!), they all chilled out, pissed up, their stares transfixed on the ambers of the fire. Come on, wake up. This is becoming boring, said Yogi. Relax, its nice doing fuck all for a change, said Casino. Put another spud on the fire. Itll be ready in the morning for breakfast. What the fuck is that all about? said Yogi. Why does everybody stick potatoes into the ambers then retrieve them 10 hours later for breakfast? Its tradition, simple as! I dont like baked potatoes either; they taste like shit, but its like sprouts at Christmas-you just have to do it. And black peas. Thank fuck nobody brought black peas. Theyre shit too, Yogi continued. Got to agree with you there, thats just fucked up. Ive only ever seen black peas being served up at the Scouts on bonfire night. Where the fuck do they keep them the other 364 days of the year? And the other thing is treacle toffee. I fucking love treacle toffee, said Casino, putting another piece into his mouth, so why the fuck did I only buy some today? It wouldnt occur to me to buy it at any other time. Yeah, agreed Clinton, same with Christmas crackers. What? said Casino, Yogi and John in unison. Christmas crackers--why dont we have them other days? I cant wait getting the little presents and jokes out of them. The other three looked at each other in dismay. Shut the fuck up, you retard! said Casino as Yogi lit the last banger and threw it at his head. Bang. Owww! You twat, that fucking hurt! said Clinton, putting out the flames on his singed hair.
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I know, said Yogi, jumping to his feet. He dashed into the flat and returned a few minutes later with a cardboard box. This should get the party started again. He pulled a canister out of the box, stood it on the ground and ignited it. What is it? asked Casino. A flash-bang. What, the thing that psycho next door gave you? Yeah, replied Yogi, standing a couple of feet away from the smouldering wick. Casino pulled a leaflet out of the box entitled flash-bang instructions for use and started to read it out loud. Flash-bang - upon detonation creates a blinding flash, equivalent to 300,000 candlepower. The 160 decibels of sound produced by the grenade not only shocks and stuns but is also loud enough to disrupt the balance function of anyone within range, causing severe dizziness. FUCKING LEG IT!!! screamed Casino as he dived onto the ground covering his head. Thuddddddd! A dull, deafening thud followed a blinding flash that, although Casinos eyes were shut, seemed to burn through his lids into his retinas. Everything sounded dull and very muffled and there was a constant high-pitched tinnitus ringing in his ears. He thought he was dead! After a minute, he raised his head to look around. Everything was in slow motion. Sitting upright, he could see the chaos around him. There was a small crater in the soil where the flash-bang had detonated. Clinton and John were starting to get up. Clinton vomited. Everything was covered in dirt. The soil had blasted everywhere. The doors and walls were all black and several windows had shattered. Yogi lay face down near the crater. Casino presumed he was dead. Eventually he started moving. As Casinos hearing started to return to normal Yogi sat up, looked around and started laughing. Fucking brilliant, he said. Were definitely going to have to get some more of those.
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You fucking prick!!! snapped Casino. You could have killed us! Abdul came out, looked at the carnage and shouted, What you fucking do? Sorry Abdul, said Casino, well sort it out tomorrow. You fucking better do! After a few more beers, everyone finally saw the funny side of it, but Yogi was warned to stay away from Action Man and to definitely not accept anything else from him. Okay, okay, agreed Yogi reluctantly. Ill be fucked if Im giving up the hand grenade though, he thought, remembering it was still under his bed. Clinton stoked what was left of the fire, placing the last of the timber onto it. Shall I throw this box on it? he asked. Yeah, use whatevers left. As he went to lift the cardboard box he paused. Hang on, theres still something in it. Oh yeah, said Yogi, I forgot all about the star-shell. What the fuck is a star-shell? asked John, sitting upright nervously after Yogis last surprise. Its some sort of firework, said Yogi. What sort? asked Casino suspiciously. Stop panicking, Mum! said Yogi sarcastically. Its a rocket. It goes up in the air, so dont worry, were safe on the ground. Wed better be! replied Casino, unconvinced. Yogi placed the star-shell on the ground, activated it following the instructions, then stood back with the others, who by now were pinned against the farthest wall they could find away from it. Whoosh. It took off at great speed into the sky. See, said Yogi unconvincingly, pretending he hadnt been nervous at all. I told you there was nothing to worry about, you bunch of girls.
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They all looked up and watched as it flashed then broke apart. A small parachute opened and floated down for a few seconds with a canister strapped underneath it. Cool, said Clinton. They all nodded in agreement. Crack. Suddenly there was a blinding flash as the entire night sky lit up like daytime and stayed that way. They looked around in confusion and were amazed to be able to see everything around them as clear as day. Look, I can see Manchester, said John. I dont get it; is it morning? The entire sky for miles around was as bright as a summers day. They could see the hills in the distance, the church spires in every direction and even an aeroplane on a night flight. Casinos arsehole started twitching. This cant be good, he said nervously. Fuck off, its cool as fuck, replied Yogi. No, I dont like it one bit, Casino continued. Were going to get fucked over for this, I just know it. Weve probably blinded that pilot. I think youre right, said Clinton as the light finally extinguished in the sky, leaving them in complete darkness again. Just then psychotic Action Man returned from the pub. Wow, was that the Starshell I gave you? he asked Yogi. Yeah, fucking cool, wasnt it? Yeah, but you dont want to set it off around here. Youll have police, army and special forces looking all over Manchester for the source. Why? In case its terrorists. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?! snapped Casino, disturbed by his comments, not to mention he didnt like him anyway. Star-shells! he emphasised, as if they should know what he was talking about. Its illegal to have them.
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Why? What are they for? asked John. Theyre for lighting up the desert in warzones so you can see where the enemy are before you shoot them. They are serious military hardware. MILITARY FUCKING HARDWARE!!! snapped Casino. Why the fuck did you give it to Bollock chops over there then, you wanker? he shouted. Dont know, I thought he might want one. What the fuck for, lighting up the back yard in case he wants to go for a shit in the outside kludge? Right, thats it; you lot fuck off home and not a word about this again ever, and you, you mental twat, he said, pointing his finger into Action Mans face, stay the fuck away from us and keep your toys to yourself, okay? Action man scowled, said nothing, turned and went inside his flat, slamming his door behind him. You shouldnt speak to him like that; hes not a full shilling, said Yogi. I couldnt give a flying fuck, and while were at it, dont you think of speaking to me for a couple of days either, you fucking lunatic! he snapped as he stormed into the flat and off to bed, angry but nervous at the thought of what must be going on inside police control rooms all over Greater Manchester right now. Yogi decided to stay up and watch some TV. An hour later he listened to the news headlines. The Police are dealing with a weapons incident tonight in Greater Manchester where a type of military grenade was used. There are no reports of any casualties but they are still searching for the source, probably the I.R.A. A Police spokesman stated that this was a serious incident and that no stone would be left unturned until the perpetrators were found and questioned. Oh fucking hell! said Yogi, running around the room, panicking. He looked at Casinos bedroom door and thought about waking him. Fuck that, he thought. Ill just have to keep him away from the Sunday papers tomorrow. Then he went off to bed and slept like a baby.
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Another 95%
Chapter 4 - Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Saturday night, copping off night! Everybody is in a good mood. Casino is ironing his best shirt. Yogi is soaking in the bath and John is down the gym, pumping up his biceps for tonights lucks girl. Clinton? Oh yes, Clinton was just getting out of hospital. He had been there for almost a week after Casino had a great idea as they sat drinking in the Tommyfield Inn, looking through the window, watching a drayman delivering kegs of beer. Hes taking his time, said Casino, watching him pause for five minutes between each keg that he rolled down the ramp into the pubs cellar. Yeah, hell be dragging it out so he can have an early dart. If it gets too late he wont have time to take out another delivery, said Yogi. Theyre a bunch of lazy bastards at Oldham Brewery. Theyve all got their own blags going on. My uncle works there. You cant blame them. Id just pull up in a car park and drink the fucking lot if I was him. Nah, hes just an old boy struggling. Ive been watching him for the last 20 minutes. Not surprised, they weigh a tonne, those beer kegs, added Clinton. Thats fucking hard work, that is. For one yes, but for four of us? What are you saying? Pinch one? asked Yogi. Thats a fucking good idea, itd last us ages. Lets do it! They all drank up and filtered outside. John, you keep a lookout for the old boy as he goes down the cellar; Clinton, you go down the bottom of the street and let us know if anyones coming; while me and Yogi nick one off the back of the lorry. Everyone got into position. After a couple of minutes, John nodded to Yogi and Clinton gave the thumbs-up to Casino, who jumped up onto the back of the lorry, pushed over a full keg of beer and kicked it off the side, onto the waiting sandbag. Yogi grabbed it, turned it 45, and as Casino joined him, they kicked it to start it rolling down the hill
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to where Clinton was on lookout. They were doing well until it started rolling faster than they could run. Oh shit! said Casino, trying to keep up with it, then he realised that even if they caught it, they wouldnt be able to stop it now. Fuck it, its gone, he said, grinding to a halt, watching it going faster and faster down the hill. Yogi gave up, too, as they stood and watched it roll away. Clinton, realising it was coming his way, decided to try to catch it before it crashed through the car park fence behind him. Casino and Yogi looked at each other in disbelief at his stupidity, realising that it weighed a couple of hundred pounds and at its current speed, it was like trying to catch a car! NO! they both shouted, just in time to watch it smack into Clinton, flooring him then bouncing over the barrier, ending up embedded in the side of a Ford Cortina. Clinton lay motionless on the ground as a bunch of people gathered around to see if he was dead. An ambulance was called and he was taken to Boundary Park Hospitals A&E department. As there were no witnesses, it was presumed that the keg had fallen off the lorry and bounced down the street, hitting him on its way. The drayman was happy, as he had to give a statement to the police that took him up to clocking off time. Casino and the others disappeared into the crowd. That evening, they all went round to visit Clinton on a C ward to make sure he was okay. He had a punctured lung and was heavily sedated. Everyones being really nice to me and I get free drugs, was the only coherent thing he said. They figured they had done their duty by visiting him once, so they fucked off down the pub, guessing that when he was released he would let them know. Back to tonight. At 7pm, Casino and Yogi went down the Angel Inn and sank a few beers waiting for John and the others to turn up. At 8pm they drove to Yorkshire Street and started a pub-crawl from The Old Mess House, with the intention of reaching Dreamers by 10pm.
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Dreamers was rocking that night - a small shit disco, the only one in Oldham apart from The Candlelight, which was more a knocking shop than a disco. There were probably more steps inside it to climb up than there was dancing space. The lads stood by the bar enjoying their usual macho bravado. Wouldnt mind throwing a length up that one. Id rather hang out of the back of her though. Fuck off, youve more chance of hanging out of the back of your mum, you cock! Ill bet you a pound to a bag of shit that I could fuck her and her mate in the bogs and still make it back for last orders. Id love to rip her knickers off, turn her upside down, fill her gash with Guinness and drink her dry. Fuck off, you couldnt manage 10 pints! Shed look a fuck sight better with my spunk sprayed across her tits. What! Shes fucking minging, I wouldnt fuck her with yours, and mines insured. Just take her from behind so you dont have to look at her, then. Just put a bag on its head. Id have to put two bags on it in case the first one fell off! Shed definitely fuck you to death. Shes one of those aggressive shags. Fuck her from behind and just as you reach the vinegar stroke, punch her in the ribs, tell her you fucked her mum last week, and then hold on as tight as you can and ride her home as she goes ballistic trying to buck you off. All bullshit and most of them always ended up going home on their own for a noisy wank! Casino stood watching the talent on the dance floor, biding his time, weighing up all the options, ready to make his move. He treated copping off like a military manoeuvre. Too fast and you might miss out on something better; too slow and youre left with Yogi, looking for a 10-to-2er to make do with.
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Hiya, youre nice, said a girl by Casinos side. Yeah, thanks for that, he said, turning away to face a different direction. Mi mate thinks youre right fit. What shall I tell her? Casino turned back to look at the mate a few feet in front of him. He quickly decided there was definitely something not quite right with her. No thanks, love, I dont do care in the community! Ok what about me, then? Casino looked her up and down then politely said, Sorry love, Im waiting for somebody. Oh yeah? she replied dejectedly. Whos that then, your reflection in the mirror, you twat? Look, I tried being nice. Im not interested, so take your pet monkey and fuck off and annoy someone else instead, okay? Whats up, cant handle a real woman or what? Listen darlin, you may have been fucked by everybody, but when Ive finished with you itll feel like you just have! Oh yeah? Come on then show me if youre man enough. No thanks, I dont fuck wildlife. Whats that supposed to mean? The last time I saw a body like yours it was laying on the beach with a harpoon through it, now fuck off! Yeah, very funny. Ive heard that one loads of times. I bet you have, you fat cow, and Ive used it loads of times, too, but its never been as fitting as tonight! Casino walked away, noticing the bouncers looking at them. Worrying that these slappers might cause a problem for him, he walked over to Yogi, who was barely able to stand up. He looked back and saw them coming over towards him again. Clearly she was determined to cause trouble. Here, sort these two out for me, he said and walked away. Hello ladies, may I say how ravishing you are both looking this evening?
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Sweet talker--is that bastard your mate then? Yeah, unfortunately. Ignore him; he can be a miserable twat sometimes. Youre right there. Havent I seen you in the Candlelight sometime before? Yogi asked. Yeah but were banned from there now for starting fights. Nice! Hang on, I remember you now, said the gobby one, you once took me outside for a shag but collapsed before you could get your cock out. Sounds likely, said Yogi, shrugging his shoulders. and by the state of you, itd probably happen again! Whats wrong with your mate, then? asked Yogi, looking at her grinning like shed swallowed a boomerang. Oh nothing, shes just a bit simple. What, retard simple? he asked, his interest heightened. No, just a bit slow thats all. Well listen, if you want to leave her here with me Ill look after her while you cop off. Ok, but make sure you put her in a taxi later or shell wander the streets confused. Leave her with me. Ill take good care of her, he replied smiling as he put his arm around the simpleton. A couple of hours later, Yogi arrived back at his flat with the happy girl. Casino was already in bed, having left early after bumping into a girl he had shagged a couple of times before. They were fuck-buddies and both being tired, decided to get it together early rather than spend the night hunting new flesh, and they probably would have ended up leaving together anyway but at 2am. Yogi took her into his bedroom, stripped off and being too drunk to fuck, instructed her to give him a hand job. From the start, he had to get her to release her grip a couple of times as she had the strength of a boa constrictor.
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Look, just hold it firmly, dont crush it; theres no blood flow. My helmets gone purple! Again she started and again she banged down hard, hurting Yogis best friend. Fuck, Ive already told you. Stop doing it so hard you retard, youll split my japs-eye doing it like that. Again he lay back and again she almost snapped it off. Oww, you stupid bitch! he shouted in pain, bolting upright. Okay bollocks to this, get your knickers off. Ill just have to fuck you instead. A few minutes later he was bouncing up and down on her. She lay motionless and although it was the worst lay he had had in ages, it reminded him of the time he had fucked a cripple. Five minutes later, with visions of a physically handicapped orgy in his head, he felt himself reaching orgasm. He began to moan and groan and just as he got to the vinegar stroke, wham. He felt something hard going straight up his rectum. He leapt up in the air a couple of feet in shocked horror and instantly lost his climax and cock-on. What the fuck was that? he yelled at her as she lay in the same spot with her arm outstretched and her right index finger pointing upwards. Clearly, a previous lover liked a cheeky finger up the ricker as he was coming to push him over the edge. Yogi was horrified. No one was allowed near his arsehole. End Of! Right, fuck it. Ive had enough. Get your stuff and fuck off back to the Special Olympics, you mong! Take me home, you bastard, she said in a slightly drawn out voice, which surprised Yogi, as he hadnt realised she could speak until then! Find your own way home, you mental cripple. Go on, fuck off, bonehead, he said, pushing her out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Yer bastard, she shouted, attempting to put her clothes back on the right way round. As she opened the kitchen door to the back stairs, Clinton was sitting on the bottom step catching his breath. He had been discharged
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from hospital that afternoon but after a night in at his mums bored shitless, by midnight he decided to get a cab to the flat and wait for them to come back from the club with booze, chips & gravy and hopefully some stories. He was surprised to find anyone back so early. Whats up, love? he asked as she walked down the steps crying. Your mates a bastard. They both are, love; look at the state of me, he said, pointing to his crutches, the result of another of their schemes. Dont you worry about it, Ill look after you, he said, putting an arm around her as she sat down next to him. Fifteen minutes later, a chilling continuous screaming awoke the occupants of the flat. What the fuck? said Casino, jumping up from his bed, looking at his bird. Jesus, shouted Yogi, snapping out of a deep sleep. He looked down to see an amber waterfall rising a foot into the air and back down all over him then became aware of the warm sensation from the waste downwards. Ahh fuck, he said realising hed done a splashdown. Casino ran to his bedroom door and opened it as Yogis door opened too. What the fuck was that? asked Casino. No idea, replied Yogi, I thought it was you. Casino looked at him, noticing the piss running down his legs. Have you fucking swamped again? Yogi said nothing as he pulled on a pair of jeans and followed him into the kitchen. The screaming continued from behind the stairs door so Casino pulled it open, holding a pan in his hand that he had grabbed from the draining board for protection. Clinton was lying on the floor screaming in panic as blood squirted from his cock. It looked like a bloodbath, as the walls were sprayed deep red; some had even hit the ceiling. What the fuck happened? shouted Casino in horror, still clenching the pan, presuming someone had attacked him and cut off his dick.
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That girl, shes snapped mi cock! he said, wailing in horror like a little bitch. What fucking girl? said Casino, relieved they werent under attack for something one of them had done. Yogi suddenly realised what had happened. Oh fucking hell, he laughed, it was the retard, wasnt it? What fucking retard? snapped Casino, still unaware of what had happened. What are you going on about? The retard from the club! said Yogi as Casino stood completely nonplussed. The one you dumped on me by the bar. What, the whale and her pet monkey? Just the monkey. I brought her back and got her to give me a hand job but threw her out, as she was really rough and almost ripped my helmet off. Taking a few steps closer, he examined Clintons cock. Oh fucking hell, look at that, he cringed, stepping backwards. Casino joined him to see that she had gripped him so hard and banged it down against his balls so violently that she had completely snapped his banjo string at the back of his bell-end that should have been attached to his shaft. Oh fuck me! said Casino, also cringing and subconsciously squeezing his thighs together in an attempt protect his own banjo. Thats fucking horrible. Wed better get him to hospital; hes going to need a few stitches in it. Oooh thats going to hurt like a bastard, said Yogi. I once knew someone who did that shagging a virgin too hard, he said. It was fucking agony when the needle went into his helmet to pull the stitches through. He told them Kill me now! rather than put a couple more into it. Clinton stopped crying and manned up a little on hearing this. No, just get me a towel. Its stopped squirting blood now that my cock-on has gone down. They got him up the stairs and onto the settee, leaving him pressing a hand towel against it, then both went off to bed now the drama was over. Next morning Casino walked into the kitchen to get a brew. Yogi heard the kettle and joined him.
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Hows Clinton doing? Casino asked. Dont know Ive only just woken up. They walked into the lounge to find Clinton fast asleep on his back with the towel, covered in dried blood, still in place. Better have a look at it, I suppose, to make sure its all right, said Casino. Good job hes been on pain killers all week. Hes so smacked up hes completely out of it still. Yogi put his coffee down on the table and stepped forward. Taking hold of the edge of the towel he looked up at Casino. Ready? he asked. Ready, replied Casino. At this, Yogi violently yanked the towel away in one quick pull. YEEOW! screamed Clinton as the scab that had formed overnight came away with the towel, causing the blood to flow again. Fuck it, hes going to hospital! Monday morning at work, Casino just didnt want to be there. He knew that he had to keep a low profile, as his tolerance was at an all time low. Unfortunately, he didnt manage it! While picking a bunch of horrendous looking pennyround collared shirts that he didnt realise they still made after 1973, he stopped at the end of a row to chat to a new girl he had been flirting with the week before. Suddenly there was a shout from the far end of the warehouse. Oi! It was his annoying fat supervisor, who had delusions of grandeur. Like all the others, he had been there since leaving school at fifteen, starting with sweeping the floors and all the other pointless jobs within the company. Eventually they decided to train him for management, as he had no ambitions to work anywhere else or do anything more with his life. Now he was in his thirties, he thought he owned the place and treated all except his little favourites like shit. Casino finished off his sentence to the girl and was just about to get on with his task when a piercing whistle
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echoed around the room, the sort of whistle that only council kids could manage at school, without even using their fingers, by curling their tongues into a sausage. Casino instantly saw red. Dont whistle at me; Im not a fucking dog! he shouted, turning to face him. Right! he shouted back. Get your coat and fuck off; youre sacked. Casino marched down the line towards him stopping an inch from his nose. You can stick your job up your stupid fat fucking arse and if you ever see me outside of this shithole, I suggest you cross the road cause if I see you, Im gonna kick your fucking head in, understand? Then he pushed past him, heading for the stairs to the locker room to get his coat. The supervisor, ego smashed with fear, walked away to a far side of the factory until Casino had left the building. Word spread around the first floor about the threat Casino had made and that he had been sacked. By the time he had got his things together and made it down to the ground floor, the Chinese whispers had evolved into the story that Casino had head-butted him in the face, knocking all his front teeth out, and left with the staffroom TV under his arm! Yogi also got this version and ran after him, catching him up just as he was about to walk through the exit. What the fuck? said Yogi as he reached him. Ive had it with this shit. I cant stand another minute; youre on your own, said Casino. You cant leave me here. Its only the crack down the pub at lunchtime that keeps me sane. If youre leaving, then wait there while I get my coat. Just at that moment, Yogis supervisor, a right nasty little bastard, came out into the corridor. Oi, what the fucking hell do you think youre doing? Get your arse back in here or youll be staying until 6 oclock to make the time up. Yogi had always lived on the edge. Even as a kid, he was always the one to have to push everything just that little bit further. Casino had often been worried about his mental state but put it down to him being an evil bastard but just at
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that moment something went snap. Without provocation, Yogi marched over to him and punched him full force straight in the face. The blood spurted out of his broken nose as he crashed backwards onto the stone floor, cracking his head against it, instantly knocking him unconscious. It was a bad one! Oh fuck, said Casino, running back inside to try to help him up. He lay motionless. Fucking hell, I think youve killed him! Yogi panicked. Leave now, said Casino. Go before they all come and kick your teeth in. Yogi ran out into the car park and set off at speed towards the main gates past security. As he reached the street he contemplated what he had just done. Oh fuck, Ive killed him, Ive killed a man, he said to himself. Ill go down for this. Then snap. Something else kicked in: selfpreservation without rational thought. He had an overwhelming urge to run away, anywhere but here. He looked up and down the street and saw a bus by the stop next to the public toilets. He ran to get onto it. To his surprise there was no driver. He looked down the bus but it was empty. Panic kicked in, as he expected the police to turn up at any minute to arrest him for murder. Instinctively, he jumped behind the wheel and after a few seconds of fuckeries with the controls, he got it to move. As he drove off down the street, the driver emerged from the toilets and watched his bus disappear into the distance. An hour later, he was arrested on the M55 just outside Blackpool. He couldnt explain why Blackpool; he just loved to go there on holiday as a kid. A psychiatrist later said it was his brain shutting down in panic, returning him to a happier time in his childhood. The supervisor came too a few minutes after Yogi had run off but Casino couldnt talk him out of calling the police. The old lady that had been sitting on the top deck of the bus when he had stolen it commented in court that she had, Had a lovely day out. You dont get to see much at my age! The judge decided this was not going to be permitted in
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defence for his actions and decided that he was guilty of Actual Bodily Harm, stealing a number 82 bus and driving without the correct licence and insurance. His barrister asked that, as his client hadnt any previous criminal record, he hoped the judge would give his custodial sentence in days rather than months. Ok, if you insist, said the judge sarcastically. I sentence you to 365 days imprisonment. Take him down! Bastard, said the barrister under his breath. Yogi fainted!
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Chapter 5 - Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Time moved by in the Joey household. The babies were a few months older, Joey was a few months smellier and Jean was a few cocks fuller! The kids, all boys, were the spitting image of Joey in every way, so much so that just like their father, nobody bothered with them. They didnt even bother with each other. Joey was still on the dole, still smoking hundreds of fags a day and still stinking the place up. Jean was back on the game with her hard-worked-for clientele. Business was booming again since the midwife had put a few dozen stitches in her baggy flaps. She was quite content with life and didnt even mind the shitty nappies too much. It was Joeys skidmarked and soiled underpants that she really objected to. The only issue she had was with the police. Although many of her clients were coppers, she was always aware that she was being monitored, ever since the whole shagging a Doberman video. The house was busted on a regular basis for no reason and at least once a month she was aware of CID following her, meaning she couldnt work on that particular day. The only option for her was to try to work in a different area, but that was easier said than done. One day, Joey came back from the dole office panicking. Whats the matter with you? asked Jean. They made me go upstairs to see the long-term unemployed advisor to try to get me back to work, he said, sparking up another fag and shaking violently. Back to work? Did you tell them youve never actually been to work? Yes, and thats why he was hassling me. I think he was looking to do me a favour. Tell him Ill do him a favour but itll cost him a tenner! Joey ignored her and put a piece of paper down on the kitchen table. Whats that? asked Jean.
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Its a phone number he gave me for a job in Manchester. Manchester! How the hell are you supposed to get there and back everyday? It takes you long enough to get to the fridge and back! Apparently its a sales job travelling around the country selling double glazing. It says you get taken to the site, dropped off and driven home again at night. What, an evening job working in different areas and they lay on the transport? Hmmm, interesting. Im not doing it! said Joey, panicking. I wouldnt know what to do. Not you, you useless bastard, I was thinking about me. Joey stared at her, puzzled. Look, it might be a good cover to do some business. If they want to buy some double glazing fine, if not I can always offer a cheeky wank or a blow job. Ahh, said Joey relieved, but hang on, what about the kids; whos going to look after them? You, you twat, who do you think? What, all day and night? Theyll drive me mad! You wanted them, you look after them! One, insisted Joey. I wanted one, not six! Seven, said Jean correcting him. Joey paused, looked around, counted them, then said, Oh yeah, I always forget about Hirji. Look, you contribute fuck all to this relationship and Im thinking about leaving you anyway, so you might as well make yourself useful while Im still here. Oh, okay, said Joey casually as he sat to look at the pictures in his Mr Bump annual. Jean got an interview the following Monday in Manchester. She put on her sexiest white dress and got there nice and early. After being taken through to the Managers office, she purposely sat in a provocative posture so that her little white panties could be seen under her short white dress from over the table. It worked. Obviously!
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The manager spent 15 minutes talking shit to her gusset, then suggested she come in for her training the following day. Its all about PMA, he said, walking her towards the door. Whats that? she asked. Positive Mental Attitude, he said, talking to her huge tits. If you dont have a PMA, then youll never sell a thing as long as youve got a hole in your arse!! If you have got a PMA youll earn a fortune and 15 years from now you could own an estate agent in Spain! Jean frowned, not having a clue what he was talking about, then followed him through the offices. Before you go, Ill take you through to meet all the others. They havent set off yet. You said youre from Oldham, didnt you? Thats handy; weve got a lad from Oldham here so you may as well join his team. You can get a lift in as well as home every day. Oh, that would be very handy, thank you, she said, subtly wiggling her cleavage under his nose. They walked down the corridor towards a glass door near the end of the building. She could hear the sound of loud chatter and laugher coming from behind it, which continued as she walked through. Everyone, this is Jean. She will be joining us soon. A barrage of wolf whistles and Wows rang out. Easy, said the manager, we dont want to scare her off just yet, do we? Dont worry, I dont scare easy, trust me! she said, flirting with the entire room. Top girl, shell do well here, someone shouted from the back. Jean? said a voice. She turned to see a familiar face from the past. Casino? What the fuck are you doing here? Ive been working here about six months now. Wow, youre looking well. What happened to your previous career? he said quietly so the others didnt hear.
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Oh, I just fancied a change, she lied. So how have you been doing? Great since I came here. Im the top salesman. I start my own team next week. Looks like Im with you then, she said, smiling. Well, if youre no good, at least I wont get bored. Oh you wont get bored, believe me, she added with a wink. So whats Yogi up to these days then? Porridge. What do you mean? I mean hes been in Strangeways for the past six months. Fuckin hell, what for? Long story but hes out in two weeks and Ive got him lined up with a job here, too. Were throwing him a weekend piss-up in Blackpool. Its where he was heading when he was arrested. I thought it would be nice if he actually got there. Youll have to come. Itll be a riot. Too fucking right. Count me in. Ive just got to okay it with the babysitter, but thats an instruction, not a request. Babysitter! Fuck, youve got a kid? Seven. Seven? But theres. I dont.? Dont bother trying; youll never manage the maths. You know the father, though. Who? Joey. Joey? What, that fucking useless spastic we went to school with? I thought he was dead or something. I havent seen him since he got expelled a couple of years ago. Oh hes still a useless spastic. What the fuck are you doing with him? It was just a silly phase I thought of trying. Dont worry, Ive got my senses back. Hes only there so I can get out at night. As soon as Ive got an alternative, hes out on his arse. I should fucking think so, too!
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Two weeks later, Casino drove to Strangeways Prison to welcome Yogi back into the world. Hows your arsehole, then? Had many big black guys make you their bitch? Fuck off, my arse is still a virgin and its staying that way, laughed Yogi, So whats new? Clintons cock is back to normal. What, sitting there doing fuck all? Yeah, laughed Casino. Ive got you a job, Jeans back on the scene, Joeys still alive, oh, and your mum died last week. Fuck off, youre kidding me! said Yogi shocked. Joeys still alive? I dont believe it. Wheres he been hiding? With Jean. What about your mum? Oh, I know your bullshitting there. How? asked Casino disappointedly. Because I spoke to her yesterday, you sick twat! Fair enough, he said as they drove up Oldham Road laughing. Saturday afternoon after six pints in the Black Horse, the coach pulled up to take them for a weekend in Blackpool. All the lads came out to celebrate Yogis release, as did a few of the double-glazing team he was about to start working with. Jean turned up in fishnet tights and a skirt the width of a belt. It was clear to everybody that she had no panties on. Although having a night off, she thought it a good opportunity for advertising for business when the lads failed to cop off in the future. Yogi was already wasted, as he hadnt had a drink in months, and was sleeping it off before they even got halfway. So come on, Jean, tell us some funny stories about your weirdest customers, then, said Clinton. And when you become one, which you no doubt will, are you going to be happy about me telling this lot what a little cock youve got, then? Everyone laughed at him as he sat in silence. No, thought not, and thats why I dont tell tales. Im like a psychiatrist. I keep everything confidential.
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I wish you were my psychiatrist, said one of the glazing team. I can be for 10, Jean replied, and itll be a fuck sight more fun. Jean was glad that some of the team were there. She had only just come out of her training and didnt know them very well. She would rather they know about her lifestyle and stay away from her if they had a problem with it, as opposed to not knowing and trying to chat her up. That would always be embarrassingly uncomfortable. Okay then, said Casino, joining the conversation, no details or anything, but have you ever slept with women? Fuck yeah, loads of times, but there was never any sleeping involved. Women are far more fun together than a woman and a bloke. All the lads started getting lumpy trousers. Really? said Casino. So are you saying you prefer women to men? Sometimes, depends on the mood Im in and who it is. So is there a chance that one day you might just prefer gash and not bother with cock at all? I mean, could you ever become a lesbian? Jean thought about the question for a moment and with every passing second, the lads were getting hornier. She was fully aware of this and knew just what she was doing. No, I couldnt be a lesbian, I like cock too much! A cheer went up and all the lads, now horny as fuck, couldnt wait to get to Blackpool to find a fuck for the night. So do you do anal with your customers, then? asked Clinton, considering going down the bus for a cheeky wank. Listen love, Ive had so much cock up my arse over the years that my ricker muscles have all but collapsed. If I fart I usually follow through! Ooooooooh, groaned the lads in unison, laughing hard and loving the crack. What a girl. Top bird. Speaking of which, Jean added, driver! How far are we from the next service station? Im dying for a shit.
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Nice, said Casino, never ceasing to be amazed by how blokey she always was. No stopping til Blackpool, love, the driver shouted back. What do you mean? We must be passing Chorley Services in a few minutes. I cant wait till Blackpool! Sorry love, no designated stops and Ive got a home to get back to. I couldnt give a flying fuck about your house, said Jean anxiously. I need a shit and when I need a shit theres no holding it back; when its coming out, its coming out! Sorry love, Im not stopping. Jean started panicking. Casino, get him to stop or Ill end up curling one down on the back seat. Ooooooooh, groaned the lads again, she is a bloke, isnt she? More of a man than youll ever be, said John, and fit with it. Dont worry, Jean, laughed Casino, moving towards her, you just need to relax and have a laugh. Come here, lets see what happens when I tickle you. Fuck off, Casino! laughed Jean, moving away from him. I mean it, unless you really want me to shit my pants, youd better back off. Casino continued and, pinning her down, started tickling her stomach. Jean roared laughing. No, no stop it, stop it, Im going to Casino stopped, as he smelt something bad. It was too late; Jeans weak arse muscles had given way and she began to empty the contents of her bowels onto the bus. Ahhhhh, fucking hell, shouted Clinton as he started to retch. They all dashed to the front of the coach and begged the driver to pull over onto the hard shoulder and let them off. As the smell hit him, he did so with an emergency stop. They all piled off the coach, as did the other passengers. Only Yogi, still fast asleep, was left on board, two seats in front of her. The jolting motion as the coach stopped,
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along with the stamping and shouting as they all ran off woke him from his golden slumber. What the? he mumbled, still half asleep and half cut, as he looked around, wondering where everybody was. He heard Jean cursing behind him and turned to see what was going on. Jean was half on her back and bent forward examining herself. The belt-size skirt was pushed up out of the way and Yogi looked on in confused horror as Jeans shit was forcing itself through her fishnet tights like brown Plasticine. Yogi considered throwing up but, still being pissed up, thought, Fuck it! and crashed out again into unconsciousness for the remainder of the journey. They all checked into their various bed and breakfasts then set off for the pleasure beach. After wasting half their money on rides and slot machines, they piled into a pub to fill up with food and beer to officially start the piss-up. By 9pm they were in full swing. By 9:30 they had their first casualty. Clinton and John had disappeared down a back alley to take a piss. Just as they were finishing off, two coppers appeared. Oi, what the fuck do you think youre doing? shouted one of them. John, knowing all about the Blackpool police, legged it. One of the coppers set off after him. Clinton didnt move and just apologised, explaining that he was bursting for a slash and couldnt wait until the next bar. Thats okay lad, said the other copper. On your way then, and set off in the direction John had taken. Clinton, confused by the whole incident, happily hurried off to re-join the others. John was arrested and charged with indecent exposure and spent the night in the cells. Anyone who has ever been for a night out in Blackpool knows what set of bastards the police there are. Then again, you cant blame them if youve ever witnessed a Scottish bank holiday! By 10:30pm they were all battered, staggering along the promenade trying to pull anything with a pulse. Casino had one of his trademark great ideas. I know, lets run down
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the pier and jump off the end into the sea for a laugh. Itll sober us up and well be ready to hit the nightclubs. Yeah, agreed Yogi, completely out of it and with no idea what had just been said. Yeah, agreed Clinton, thinking he had something to prove after Jeans little cock comment earlier. They all walked down the South Pier towards the end. Okay, are you ready? asked Casino. Yeah, said Yogi again, up for anything. Do you think itll be cold? asked Clinton, suddenly realising what he had agreed to participate in. Dont be such a puff. You said you were up for it so man up and stop acting like you sit down to piss. Lets do it-ready? Err Okay, ready, he agreed as the three of them got into running stance. 3-2-1 GO! shouted Casino and the three of them ran towards the end of the pier. As they all reached it, Clinton jumped up onto the bench and threw himself over the railings. Yogi was about to do the same when Casino grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to safety. Everyone laughed hysterically at the sight of Clinton jumping over the edge on his own. They all saw it coming; only Clinton was gullible enough to believe Casino would spend the rest of the night in wet clothes. Suddenly they heard a scream. It was a similar sound to the time they found him with a snapped banjo string. Dashing to the railing, they looked over to see Clinton fifty feet below on sand. The tide was out! After hurrying back to the promenade and onto the beach, it was clear that Clinton was fucked up. An ambulance was called for and he spent the night in Blackpool Victoria Hospital with a broken leg and a dislocated collarbone. Two down, whos next? said Casino as they entered the first nightclub they could find. They had drunk in some dives in their time but this was definitely a new low. After passing a group of aggressivelooking bouncers resembling gorillas looking for bananas, they made their way inside. The place clearly needed
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condemning. As they walked, their shoes stuck to the sticky old beer-covered carpet, the paint was peeling from the walls and the toilets stank of stale piss. It was a shit-hole! Perfect, said Yogi making his way towards the bar. Well at least theres no chance of not copping off in a place like this, added Casino, looking for a positive as he went to join Yogi. There was a commotion in the corner of the room and a dozen bouncers ran over. They all watched as someone tumbled down the stairs into the waiting knuckle-draggers. A bouncer followed the unfortunate customer down. Clearly he had thrown him and was coming to finish off the job. They looked on in amazement as he pulled the unconscious guy up by the hair and commenced punching him time and again in the face. They all groaned at the unnecessary gratuitous violence and felt seriously in danger by the people apparently employed to protect them! Right, no fucking around in here, okay? said Casino. Especially you, Yogi. What do you mean? You know exactly what I mean! Im not getting my teeth kicked in for you in here just because you cant behave yourself, okay? Okay, chill out! They stood and weighed up the talent in the place. A girl was blatantly on her knees under a table blowing a guy off, while his mate sitting next to him had his hand down her mates knickers. Ooh, its rough as fuck in here, said Casino, debating whether or not to write off the tenner entrance fee and just go somewhere else. Well, you know what they say, said Yogi. If you cant find a girl, find a fat lad! What?! said Casino, turning and staring at him in dismay. Who the fuck says that? Youve been in prison too long, clearly! Okay then, those two? said Yogi, getting up to make his move.
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Fuck off, said Casino dismissively. Id rather lick the sweat off my Grandmas back! Too fucking fussy, always been your fault, said Yogi as he straightened his shirt. Captain Yogi going in! He was gone. After a couple of dances Casino decided he was having none of it. There must be better places with better talent than this, he thought. Excuse me, is that your mate over there? asked a young girl, pointing to Yogi. Why? Whats he done? asked Casino worriedly. Will you get him to back off mi mate? Hes coming on really strongly. And? What do you expect if you come to a shit-hole like this? said Casino, turning to ignore her. Shes only 13! Casino turned back quickly to look at the girl again. Although she was dressed for the place and caked in makeup, he could see underneath that she was too young. Fucking hell, thought Casino, this is like coming between a Rottweiler and his bone! Okay, Ill have a word. Thanks. Casino dragged Yogi to one side and suggested he find someone else to molest, then walked back onto the dance floor for a boogie. By the time Yogi had turned away from Casino, the young girl and her mate had run off out into the night. Yogi wasnt happy. Moments later Casino felt a shove in his back. He turned to see Yogi shouting at him with a nasty look on his face. What the fuck did you say that for? demanded Yogi. Whats your problem? You are. I was in there and now shes fucked off because of you. Theres a reason for that. She was only 13 and her mate said you was scaring her, and dont take that attitude with me, you cunt. You cant take your beer since youve been in prison, can you?
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Crack. Casino felt a blinding thud to his forehead. One of the bouncers, having seen them arguing on the dance floor, marched over, grabbed them both by the hair and banged their heads together. Right, get your coats and fuck off; youre barred. Yogi typically kicked off. Who the fuck do you think He was grabbed from behind by a massive gorilla and dragged to the exit, kicking and shouting. Casino noticed the other bouncers rushing to the exit, forming a double line that they would have to walk down. Look, sorry mate, hes with me and he cant handle his ale, said Casino quickly. Can I get my jacket before I go? Luckily this one had a few more chromosomes than the others. Yeah no problem, come on. Casino picked up his jacket and watched as Yogi was kicked and punched by the monkeys in dickey-bows as he was dragged down the line and thrown through the exit doors. Casino strolled, making conversation with his bouncer as they walked closer to the line. Leave him, hes okay, said the bouncer as he approached the awaiting beating. He walked untouched through the line and out into the night air. Phew, thank fuck for that! he said under his breath. That was your fucking fault, said Yogi, standing in the middle of the road after picking himself up. Fuck off, snapped Casino, marching towards him. If you wasnt such a lightweight with your beer, wed still be inside, and I told you to behave cause it was dodgy in there. Oh yeah? said Yogi, sizing up to him. Yeah! snapped Casino as he pushed him backwards off his feet and onto the tarmac road. Hey, dont fight, said a voice from behind him. Casino turned to see two girls walking towards them. Wow, he thought. One was incredibly attractive with a great figure, the other not so much so but still okay. What, are you
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my guardian angel, then? asked Casino, now glad they had been thrown out. I might be, said the attractive one, smiling as her mate walked over to Yogi to try to calm him down. Yogi continued to rant and rave, so she took him to the other side of the road and walked off, linking arms with him. Shall we? said Casino, offering her his arm in a gentleman-like gesture. Thank you, kind sir, she said, taking it. You scrub up well for a Geordie, he said, noticing her accent. Cheeky bastard, she laughed. Next morning, Casino arrived back at the B&B after a great night of passion. Opening his bedroom door, he was greeted by a strong farty smell, mingled with sweaty socks and stale beer breath. Fuckin hell, it stinks in here, he said, making his way towards the window. Owww! said someone from under a pile of blankets on the floor as he stood on them. What the....? said Casino, wondering who and why someone was sleeping there. It was John. Why are you in here? The bastard pigs kicked me out at 6am and I havent got a key to get back in, Clintons got it. Casino thought about what he had just said. Again, why are you in here? I didnt want to wake the landlady so I climbed up the drainpipe and came in through your window. I went to my room but couldnt wake Clinton up. Youd have a job. Hes not there; hes in hospital. What? Long story, tell you later when we go and collect him. So why didnt you use my bed? I would have but its covered in puke. Yogi obviously couldnt be arsed going to the bog to throw up so he used your cot instead.
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Bastard, said Casino angrily. Good job I didnt need it. He was a right wanker last night, started on me in a club and got us thrown out. Im glad he took a beating now. Well be having words later when hes sobered up! Jesus! I know, hes worse than ever since hes been out. Fuck me, it stinks in here. Is that you or him? Him. It smelt bad when I rolled in a few hours ago. Hes got a bird in there with him. Oh yeah, the other Geordie--I forgot about her. I spent the night with her mate, very tidy. Looking at the sheets and blanket covering Yogis bed, Casino noticed three legs protruding from beneath. Hey, theyre still out cold. Do you want to have a look at her tits? laughed Casino. Yeah, too right. Its been a shit weekend for me; I might as well get something out of it, said John. Casino gently started to pull the covers up from their feet to reveal their calves, then knees, then thighs. A horrendous smell hit them in the face like an articulated lorry at 70mph. Oh God, Im going to be sick, said Casino. What the fuck is that smell? said John, standing up for a closer inspection. Casino pulled back the curtain to let more light into the room. They could see something on her leg. He pulled the covers up to their waists. They were both covered in shit! John retched as Casino quickly stuck his head out of the bedroom window and vomited. Yogi had not only swamped the bed but this time he had also shit it, too! During the night as they had moved around in their sleep, it had gone everywhere. It was encrusted into the sheets, on their legs, her arse, his balls and a few dags were sticking to her pubes! Still, they both slept. Oh fuck, said John. What shall we do? Shes going to scream the place down when she sees what hes done. The landlady will call the police and Ive only just got out!
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Wed better wake him, and I dont know about you, but Im packing my stuff and leaving before he wakes her up. Fuck breakfast, well eat somewhere else. Yogi.YOGI, Casino whispered while shaking him. Nothing; he was dead to the world. He tried slapping his face then pulling his hair. A partial grunt, then a snore. Bollocks, said John. He isnt going to wake up. Lets just leave him. Hell wake when she batters him after seeing hes covered her in turd. Ill wake the bastard, said Casino, stepping back and unzipping his trousers. He fucking well deserves this. Whatre you doing? Watch, said Casino as he pulled out his cock and commenced pissing on Yogis head and face. Oh you twat, said John as he rolled back onto the spare bed, laughing hysterically. Ugh fuck! he said, jumping up after realising he had just rolled in Yogis cold puke. Bastard, piss in his mouth, the twat. See, told you he deserves it, laughed Casino, finishing relieving himself. Yogi spluttered, mumbled, then eventually opened his eyes, completely oblivious to the warm piss around his head and in his hair. Whats up? he garbled in a 20-fags-an-hour gritty groan. Casino pointed to Yogis cock on display to the room. What thewhats that? he said, noticing the excrement around his balls and thighs. Thats your shit, said Casino. Not only have you pissed the bed again but youve shit it too, and covered that poor bitch in turd! Yogi turned to see the girl naked next to him with shit down the side of her arse cheek. Oh fucking hell, he said, sitting up and instantly sobering in panic. Anyway, good luck. Were off. See you at the coach station at noon. Fuck off; you cant leave me like this. Oh we fucking well can, said Casino, and after youve quietened her, I suggest you do a runner. The landlady is going to shit a brick herself when she sees that mess.
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No, hang on, Ive got an idea. He paused for a few seconds working himself up then erupted. YOU DIRTY BITCH! he yelled and slapped the girl hard on the back. W-what..? she said waking up startled. You dirty, dirty bitch, look what youve done. Youve fucking shit all over me. What the fucking hell is your problem? Oh my God. OH MY GOD! she said, completely panicking as she realised she couldnt remember anything about the night before, let alone where she was. Im sorry. Oh God, Im so sorry, she said, jumping up and starting to clean the shit off him, completely unaware she was naked and there were others in the room. And when youve finished, you can wipe the puke out of my bed too, added Casino. What the fuck were you drinking to get into that state? he asked her. I dont remember, Im so sorry, oh God, Im never drinking again. She said, bursting into tears in shame. I wouldnt either if I was you, love. Listen, were going down for breakfast. This place had better be spotless when we get back, okay? Okay, it will be, Im so sorry, she said, still panicking and still naked. Yogi, youd better get a shower. See you down there. Casino and John almost fell down the stairs laughing in disbelief at Yogis temerity and in amazement that only he could think of, and get away with, something like that. Fifteen minutes later, as they finished a hearty full English, Yogi appeared fresh faced and starving. Morning ladies, he said to them. I dont believe you, said Casino. I know, laughed Yogi, biting into a piece of toast they had left in the rack. Fucking hell, you should be on the stage, you twat. Yeah, I know, Yogi laughed again.
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After three cups of coffee and a stomach full of fried eggs and sausages, they returned to the room. She was gone. The place was tidy, the window wide open so the smell could disperse, and the soiled sheets were neatly piled in the corner of the room. After a quick debate, they opted for a quick exit, as trying to explain the shit, spunk and puke stains on the sheets and the mattress just seemed like hard work. They picked Clinton up from the hospital on their way to the coach station and slept all the way back home. Feeling slightly guilty and responsible for Clintons fate, yet again, they said he could sleep on their settee for the week, as he was unable to get out and the thought of going stir crazy at his mums was completely unbearable. That night, Casino and Yogi decided to go down the Band Club for a quiet couple of medicinal pints, leaving Clinton asleep on the settee. An hour later Clinton awoke to a crashing sound, bangs and footsteps running up the stairs. Crash. The door flew open almost coming off its hinges, followed by two big muscular black guys with baseball bats. The first one went over to him, raised the bat into the air as though he was about to bring it down on his head, and shouted, Whats your name? Eh? said Clinton, startled, in fear. I said whats your fucking name? C-c-clinton, Clinton! Wheres Yogi? Hes not here, hes not here! whimpered Clinton, fearing for his life. Is this him? he said, turning to speak to someone still in the hallway. In walked the retard that had snapped Clintons banjo string six months earlier. She looked at him, cowering on the settee. No, thats not him. Do you want me to do him anyway? said the other guy, now also standing over him with baseball bat raised high. Clinton didnt have a clue what was going on and almost shat himself with fear.
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No, leave him, he was kind to me. As she turned to leave she looked back with a slight expression of concern on her face. Hows your cock? Oh, err, fine now, he said, relieved he wasnt going to die today. Did you fuck her? asked the big guy, raising his bat again. No, no, I didnt, I swear. Did he? he asked the girl. No, I just gave him a hand job. The guy held out his open hand. 10. Wh-what? You own me 10. NOW! Okay, okay what for? he asked, digging deep into his pocket, praying he had enough on him. She works for us now but you didnt pay so 10, and tell that bastard Yogi well be back until we get him. Nobody fucks with our girls without visiting accident and emergency, GET IT? Got it, got it, yes Ill tell him, he said, handing over all the loose change in his pocket. You better had. Then they were gone. Two hours later, Casino and Yogi returned to find the front door smashed in. They ran upstairs, where Clinton was still watching Songs of Praise. What the fucks going on? demanded Casino. Yogi had a few visitors. Who? Remember the girl he fucked about and threw out in the middle of the night? Which one? That sounds like a normal Saturday night to me, Yogi laughed. The retarded one that snapped my banjo string. Oh yeah, her--what about her? Well, it appears shes now a prostitute with the meanest looking pimps Ive ever seen. And?
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And now shes looking to settle old scores so she brought them round here with baseball bats to beat the shit out of you for being a twat with her. They wanted to do me in too, but she stopped them, probably because of what she did to me. Oh, any by the way, they told me to tell you theyll be back till they get you! Fuck! said Yogi anxiously. What are we going to do? We? said Casino. Yeah, thats about right, youre a twat with someone and now everyone around you is going to be beaten to death. Nice one! Casino went into his bedroom, banged around for 10 minutes then returned with all his possessions rammed into a suitcase. Well, its been interesting living with you, but fuck this for a game of soldiers, Im off! and disappeared never to return. Yogi sat for 10 minutes in deep consideration, then got his things together, told Clinton it was all his and also quit the flat there and then returning to his mums. Lucky bitch!
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Chapter 6 - Openers, closers & windows

Casino moved back to his parents house for a while, deciding what to do next. Yogi had become a liability anyway, and until he showed signs of slowing down with his drinking and attitude, he was too much to deal with. Perhaps a few weeks at his mums would sort Yogi out. After a month of working together, there were definite signs of the old fun Yogi starting to re-appear. It seemed that this was what he was missing and having to use his wit and intellect to do the job was stimulating his brain cells once more. Two years of dead-end pointless jobs a monkey could easily be trained to do was not good for his sanity. A day in the life of a double-glazing salesman in the early 1980s started around 11am. Casino, having a company car, picked up Yogi and Jean, then drove to Manchester, where he would illegally park anywhere he wanted. All the cars were leased so by the time a parking ticket finally came into the office via the leasing company, it was simple to insist that he wasnt driving that day, or that the car had been in for a service and he had been driving another vehicle. Eventually, someone somewhere paid the fine but as long as it wasnt him, Casino didnt really care. The fourth member of the team varied, but often Malcolm, a happy, jovial, if not slightly wet guy from Levenshulme, was assigned to them. Everyone arrived in the office around noon. They usually spent a couple of hours chatting, recanting stories about the night before while knocking on doors and of course, Positive Mental Attitude speeches from the Branch Manager. Basically there were two sides to the process. The team manager, Casino, took his crew of two or three Openers wherever he liked. It could be a few miles away on the other side of Manchester, a trip over the Moors into Leeds, Halifax or Sheffield, or a much longer drive down to Nottingham. The aim was to find housing estates that didnt have doubleglazing and hopefully also hadnt had dozens of other salesmen knocking on their door night after night. The Openers were dropped off on different streets sometimes a couple of miles apart, their job being to knock on every door,
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ask the householder if they could come in to do a questionnaire, then get them interested in speaking to the Closer, Casino, that night about Integrated Insulation. If my manager could show you something that would save money on your heating bills and cost you nothing, would you be interested? Only a retard could answer No to this, unless he knew what they were selling, as the last caller that knocked on their door a couple of nights earlier had said something similar. When they answered Yes the response was: Okay, thats the questionnaire done, I will ask my manager if he has time to come round tonight and explain it to you. The Opener would go back to wait for his manager to pick him up at a designated corner on the estate, sit in the car and explain everything about the customer, his interests, hobbies, etc., that he had picked up on while doing the 15minute questionnaire. The Opener would wait in the car, watching intently as the manager walked down the path with his case of samples and bullshit, to see if the customer allowed him through the door. Often he would have a five minute discussion on the doorstep as the customer insisted he wasnt interested and the manager attempted to talk him into letting him in. If he got inside, the Openers would watch anxiously for a couple of hours, waiting for the curtains to opened and the manager start measuring up, indicating that the poor bastard had just signed up for 3,000 worth of double glazing, cavity wall insulation and loft insulation! This was the old days of door-to-door sales. Mans selling! None of that, spending a day in the office telephoning people from a phone directory to make an appointment then going at a specific time and date. Namby-pamby shit that came later in the decade! You were ignored, threatened, had doors slammed in your face and punched, but occasionally you got some sex too! After a few short years of boom, this market became saturated and as all houses started to be built with doubleglazing as a compulsory building regulation, this kind of selling slowed down, leaving only a market for replacement
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windows. The better salesmen started selling life insurance; the rest moved into telesales! Casino had previously mastered the art of Opening, using his ability to very quickly suss out a persons personality within seconds and treat them accordingly. This contributed to his fast rise within the company and running his own crew. His success was because he could be down-to-earth with working class customers, put on the airs and graces for the higher classes and be a mucky little bastard when necessary. He learned all the tricks to get through that door. It was a numbers game and he might have to knock on 10 or 20 doors before he succeeded. Once inside, he almost always brought out a lead to his manager. He had two things that made him happy while working, both placebos, but it was all about the PMA. He believed that anyone who had red stripy curtains was gullible and he convinced himself that it was his and that he WAS going to get inside that house. Ironically, he always did! The other thing was ding-dong doorbells. He loved ding-dong doorbells. Again, if he pressed one, he was getting through that door even if it was pointless or they were unemployed and couldnt sign up for credit anyway; it didnt matter. It was a way of testing himself and a practice for the next householders that could afford it. If working an estate that had clearly been battered by other salesmen night after night, the householder answered ready to get rid of them. Ding-dong. Yes? Hello, are you a man or a mouse? I beg your pardon? I said, are you the man of the house? Oh...erryes. Caught him off guard, go for the kill, through the front door. Lovely! Ding-dong. Then walk to the bottom of the path and look up at the chimney. Door opens, homeowner looks at him, puzzled. Yes, can I help you?
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Oh, sorry mate, youre not going to believe this but theres a donkey on your roof! What? I said theres a donkey on your roof! Come and look. Customer walks down the path and looks at his roof, Casino walks past him to the front door and into the hall. Im only joking. Come on, Ive got a questionnaire to do with you. Walks into lounge and sits down while the customer walks back up the path. Ding-dong. Little girl answers door. Hello darlin, is your daddy in? Yes. Casino takes her hand. Take me to him then, sweetheart. Okay. Then leads Casino into the front room. Ding-dong. Hello, Im just in the area doing a questionnaire. Casino holds out his hand and shakes with the householder but carries on shaking, not letting go. Householder uncomfortable being touched so pulls hand away, Casino moves forward with the hand and is pulled inside the doorway. Oh thanks, Ill close the door. Ding-dong. Hello, Im just in the area doing a questionnaire. What are you selling? Im not selling anything. Im just doing this stupid questionnaire but my boss is watching me, so can I just come in for 10 minutes and get him off my back? Okay, Ive got a boss like that too. Come in, mate. You never ever said what it was you were selling or they would simply say they didnt want it. Unfortunately, this occasionally left the risk of the retard factor! Ding-dong. Hello, Im just in the area doing a questionnaire. Okay, come in. Ten minutes later. so if my manager could show you something that would save money on your heating bills and costs you nothing, would you be interested? Is it double glazing?
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I dont know; its different for every home. It could be a black box that you stick on the back of your telly but either way, would you be interested? Yes. Two hours later, after manager gives full demonstration, measures up the windows and pulls out the finance agreements... Im not interested. What do you mean? Ive been here 2 hours and explained everything step-by-step and you said you was happy with everything. I know but I wanted one of those little black boxes for the back of my telly that Casino mentioned! Sometimes you would knock on a shit-hole that clearly had no finances to pay for it, even if they wanted to. Get rid and move on! Ding-dong. Hi, Im selling double glazing. Do you want it? No thanks. No problem, goodnight Goodnight. One time Casino knocked on a nice modern house that looked ideal for him to pitch but there was nobody home. He made a note of the number with the intention of returning later. As he rang the next-door neighbours bell, an absolute slum of a house, which on glancing through the front window, he could clearly see there was crap piled up everywhere, a young couple pulled up in a car. They were the owners of the nice house he had just tried. Shit, he thought, I dont want them to hear me on this doorstep or I wont get in theirs. I know, Ill get rid and walk away, return later and pitch them. The door opened. Hi Im selling double glazing; do you want some? Slight pause for thought. Okay then. What? Yes, Ill have some.
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Casino looked at him, confused, then heard the young couple opening their gate. Shit, got to get away quickly, he thought. Okay, can I come in then? Yes. Casino went inside, quickly closing the door. He looked out of the window to see the young couple close their front door behind them. Cool, safe. Right then, he said, looking around the dump in amazement--clearly a case of Care in the Community if there ever was one. The guy was obviously a basket case so he was keen to get out. Okay, well, to doubleglaze this place will cost 3,000, cash! Still want it? The guy thought for a minute then answered, Okay. What? Okay, Ill have it. Hang on, said Casino, thats 3,000 cash, tonight. Are you good for it? Yes, Ive got enough under my mattress. Fucking hell, give me 10 minutes and Ill be back with my boss to measure up, okay? Okay. They both returned to this one, expecting him to be standing pissing in the sink and eating his own shit while having a wank. No, he was waiting for them with 3,000 cash in his hand. After a quick 20-minute measure up, they were just about to leave when he added, Oh, I want the front room window frosted. What? I want the front room window frosted. But you wont be able to see out of it, said Casino, astounded. Yes, but nobody will be able to see inside either!! Most nights brought bad ones, too. Average Openers heads dropped when they had a few of these and just wanted to go home. These were the people that sold nothing and left the job as quickly as they arrived. Casino treated it as a battle of wills to challenge himself. If they werent going to buy from him, he would never see them again, so what the hell, have an argument! Casino walked away happy in the knowledge
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that he had won and the customer went back inside slamming his door and having a shit evening. 1-0 to Casino! Ding-dong. Door opens. Fuck off! SLAM! Ding-dong. Casino rings the bell again. Door opens again. WHAT? Fuck off yourself! replied Casino, then turned and walked away. SLAM! Ding-dong. Hello, Im just in the area doing a questionnaire. Casino held his hand out to shake. The householder didnt take the hand. Clearly he was not going to let him in anyway. Casino examined his own hand carefully. Sorry, have I got dog shit on my hand or are you just an ignorant twat? SLAM! Ding-dong. Hello, Im just in the area doing a questionnaire. Not interested! Not interested in what? In whatever it is youre selling. Who said I was selling anything? You must be, why else would you knock on my door? Why dont you invite me in and Ill tell you? No, youre selling something. Im not selling anything. Im still not interested. How can you say youre not interested when you dont know what its about? I dont care, Im not interested. What if I was giving away a free Ferrari or a world cruise? I bet youd be interested then. No, I still wouldnt be interested. Well, Im not going to give you anything now. Good, I dont need anything.
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Yes you do: manners! My manners are just fine, thank you. Youre clearly retarded and youre wasting my fucking time, so Im off. I dont like your attitude! Thats okay, I dont like your face! The householder grips Casino by the scruff of the neck. Ill tell you what, said Casino, calmly with his hands still in his pockets, let go of me, step off your property and Ill kick your fucking head in! Ive just about had enough of your type. Again, let go and step off your property and Ill give you the biggest bitch whipping of your pointless life! SLAM! Ding-dong. Hello, Im just in the area doing a questionnaire. Not interested! It only takes 10 minutes. I dont have 10 minutes. Ten minutes of arguing later! So you dont want to do this questionnaire with me, even though Im just trying to make a living? No, I couldnt care less about you or your living! Youre just rude, arent you? I dont care. Worse than that, though, not only are you rude but youre also a liar. You said that you didnt have 10 minutes to spare yet youve been talking shit to me for more time than that, so youre an ignorant, rude liar. So? So, with your rude lying personality, its obvious that youve got no friends, your wifes an ugly bitch and by the look of you, you probably have sexual intercourse with dogs too! SLAM! Casino, being Casino, ran his own crew differently to the others. Life was about being young and having fun so just like his school days, if he had put as much effort into hard work as he did into easy blags, he could have been anything
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he wanted to be. Although he was supposed to work five nights a week, he averaged around one and a half. Mondays, they would work somewhere local to Manchester so they could have an early dart: Bolton, Bury, etc. Someone always managed to bring out a good lead, sometimes two, between them, so two sales were enough for the start of the week. Tuesdays and Wednesdays would be half-hearted and probably an hours work each night to see if anything happened; if not, it was Pinball, Defender or Phoenix games machines at the motorway services for a couple of hours, or a night fucking around in Blackpool, which was only an hours drive away. Thursday was bollocking day. Almost without fail, Casino would be dragged into the boss office and bollocked for only having a couple of sales on the board. He expected this and they expected it, too. It was almost an accepted necessity to remind him what he did for a living, so Thursday evenings were serious work nights. After an all-day full breakfast at Hairy Berts around 3pm, they would drive over the moors and batter terraced houses in the working class towns of Yorkshire. The trophy to achieve for an Opener was to book a double in one evening, basically to open two leads that the manager could close. Casino was an expert at this when he was on the knocker. Now with Yogi and Jean, it wasnt unusual for them both to get doubles: 45 for a single, 150 for a double and on the very rare occasions, 250 for a triple. Casino got 65 for each lead he closed so on a good Thursday night 260. This, added to the others he had booked on Monday, made for easy cash in an age where the alternative was to work in a factory for 100 per week before tax, thats if you could find a job in Thatchers Britain in the early 80s! Casino also did a blag to get more cash for Jean and Yogi. As long as there was no one else in the crew that night, they would write down that one of them had opened all the bookings, sometimes Yogi, sometimes Jean. This meant that they were paid a lot more because of the bonus of multiple bookings. Jean and Yogi split the extra cash between them so they were all happy.
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Fridays were simple. PAY DAY, then an afternoon in Sergeant Yorkies Casino in Cheetham Hill before a night out clubbing as usual. Wages were always paid as a cheque, not a problem! This was the days of minimal security checks and as the double-glazing industry would employ anyone that had an outgoing personality, was quick-witted and shifty, all the successful openers were usually dodgy, shady, corrupt or had recently got out of prison. No one was checked for National Insurance, Birth Certificates or even proof their name was real, so the majority of these work colleagues that were good friends actually had no idea what the others real name was! There were three simple ways to convert these cheques into cash: 1. Open a bank account in the false name you use at work and pay the cheque into it. Draw out the cash and enjoy! 2. Sign the back of the cheque and ask different people you know to give you cash for it after they have paid it into their own accounts. 3. Find a shifty shop owner in Longsight or Levenshulme sign the back and sell it to him, i.e., sell a 250 cheque to him for 200. Simple! 4. There was a lot of money moving around the business. 18 and 19 year old kids were driving round in nice new cars. This was big money for unskilled labour at the time. In fact, this was excellent pay for skilled work too and as noone paid income tax or national insurance, every penny earned was retained and spent! Up yours, Thatcher!!
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Chapter 7 - Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens

One Monday, Casino was given a guy called Clive as the fourth member to add to his team of three. This was bad news, as he was quite new and they couldnt just fuck off whenever they wanted to, which was often by 7:30 pm on Mondays if it was a quiet night. Okay, Casino whispered to Yogi and Jean, well work near home so if its a crap night, we can all fuck off somewhere and just keep driving out to Clive every hour, so he thinks you two are working in a different area. If he gets a lead, great, Ill close it. If he doesnt, well just pick him up at 9pm and drop him off home. Cool, said Yogi. Sounds good to me, added Jean. Well go to Hairy Berts as usual, then tell him we start at 5pm in this crew and just drop him off in Royton or Shaw. Where are we going to doss, though, if we cant be arsed working? asked Yogi. Come to mine, said Jean, Ive got plenty food and dope in! Fair enough, said Casino, but Joeys going to shit his pants when he sees us walking through the front door. Fuck him, said Yogi. Yeah fuck him, agreed Jean, hes on borrowed time anyway! By 7pm, they had all had enough. Mondays were always hard. Everyone hated Mondays and the last thing people wanted to do was listen to some soppy twat asking them questions about cavity wall insulation! Come on, get in, said Casino as Jean came away from another closed door. He had already picked Yogi up minutes earlier. They drove over to Jeans house and walked through the front door. Joey was lying on the settee fast asleep and oblivious to them entering the room. By his side was an album cover with broken fags on it, a packet of Rizla greens and a small lump of Black Moroccan cannabis.
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Typical, said Jean. Stoned again and hasnt lifted a fucking finger around the house, the lazy twat. Shhhh, dont wake him, said Casino. Thisll be a blast from our past. Pass me the ashtray. Casino knelt down quietly next to Joey and gently started pushing a days worth of old fag dimps into his mouth. Yogi came out from the kitchen with a bottle of leather shoe whitener and commenced painting his hair with it. After five minutes, his entire head and eyebrows were white. He looked like an albino. They all fell about laughing, which caused Joey to stir. Yogi quickly moved over to him and pulling a stupid grinning face, placed it an inch from his. As he opened his eyes slowly, Joey screamed with fright as he saw Yogi glaring back at him. Hello, fuck face, missed me? said Yogi as Joey climbed back down from the sideboard. W-what the.. how..? Just about all I could say if I had woken up to that face, said Casino from the other side of the room. Joey hadnt noticed Casino was also there and almost climbed the walls when he did. He knew Jean was working with them and prayed he never had to see them but also figured he probably would sooner or later but in his house, like this, while paranoid on half a dozen joints? The stuff of nightmares! After Hollands pies, chocolate and a couple of joints, they all slumped into the settee, wasted. Not bad, this wacky-baccy stuff, said Yogi, as mellow as he had ever been in his life. Where do you get it from? Glodwick. Whereabouts in Glodwick? Outside the West Indian Club. What, Greengate Street, where all the black guys hang out? Yep, said, Joey skinning up another joint. Fucking hell, said Yogi. What, you walk down there?
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Yep, theyre all right when youve been there a few times. They get to know your face and you can get better deals. What, you barter with them? Yes, there are a dozen of them, all trying to push their tinfoil wraps, so I just ask whos got the biggest deal and they always pull the better ones out from the bottom. The shit ones are on the top for the students that drive by. How much does it cost? asked Casino. 5 a wrap. Okay, new experience. Come on, get your coat, youre taking me to buy some and show me how its done. Errokay? said Joey, not sure about getting into a car with these two again after his previous experiences. They cruised slowly down Greengate Street as a bunch of guys walked into the road, staring at them aggressively. Fuck me, this doesnt look good, said Yogi. Youd better be right about this or were all fucked! Its okay, just pull over here, said Joey as they started to surround Casinos window. Hiya, have you got a decent fiver stick? said Joey with his head sticking out of the rear window so they could see him. The atmosphere lifted as they recognised him and started to argue between themselves over which one had the better deal. Casino chose the biggest one, handed over a five-pound note and drove off. Fucking hell, Im glad I never drove down that street before, it looked like a scene from The Warriors. I would have run the fuckers over to get away if I didnt know better. A couple of hours and half a dozen lessons at rolling spliffs later, they all relaxed into cannabis-fuelled reflection. Isnt it shit that if we want to buy some gear, we have no choice but to be forced to venture into a shifty underworld of dealers, knives and violence? said Casino. Some of them have got guns, added Joey. Fuck off? said Yogi in disbelief.
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Yes, Joey continued, I saw them pull one out once when a bunch of guys in a car came back complaining about being ripped off over an eighth. Ive got no idea what any of that meant but they should never make anything illegal, end of! said Casino. Look what happened to America during prohibition. Everyone still drank, the government lost billions in tax revenue and the Mafia grew from nothing to own the fucking country. Its fucked up! Exactly, Jean agreed. Look what happened to me. Doing a good service for lonely guys, next thing Im banged up with a criminal record and still watching my back! No, next time, its the High-class game for me. Really? asked Yogi. What, a grand a night keeping some old aristocrat or politicians cock warm? said Jean rhetorically. Easy money! Ive already started using the cash I get from the windows for elocution lessons. At midnight, Casino suddenly jumped up and out of his chair. Oh fuck, we forgot about Clive!! He must have been standing on a street corner for four hours waiting for us. Fuck!! Yogi burst out laughing. Its not funny, you bastard. Come on, quickly! He grabbed his coat and ran down the path. Over the next few weeks, these became regular evenings, sitting around, smoking joints and talking shit! One Thursday at midnight after a full nights work, Casino dropped Jean off at her gate and drove off to his bed. Jean walked into the lounge to find Joey asleep on the settee and the rest of the house empty. Where are the kids? she said, kicking him to wake up. Eh...oh...err, the little bastard with the ginger hair was playing me up again. What, Keith? Oh yeah, I always forget his name, yes, Keith.
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And? And so I phoned Social Services to get them to come and sort him out. You did what? yelled Jean, dropping her bag. Why? He wouldnt do as he was told. Hes only two years old, for fucks sake! Well, they came out to see him and then started asking awkward questions. What sort of questions? Well, things like why they werent dressed, when was the last time I washed them, what had they had to eat today and why were there drugs lying around--that sort of thing. And what did you tell them? I told them I didnt know cause Id been in bed all day and that they usually manage to sort themselves out. It was around then that she phoned for assistance and took them all away! You useless spastic! screamed Jean, throwing her door keys at him. Dont worry, said Joey, attempting to calm her down. Its much quieter without them anyway, and we can always visit them at weekends, well, if you want to. Jean exploded into a violent rage. Joey bled a lot! The following morning, Jean called Casino to explain why she couldnt come into work that day. As they only went to the office for their pay, then the casino, on Fridays, it didnt matter so he told her he would drop her wages off later in the day. Jean waited outside the Social Services until they opened at 9am. She was taken into an interview room and given the third degree. Everything was brought up and thrown in her face--her cautions and convictions for soliciting, Joeys criminal record--everything. After hours of debate and persuasion, it was agreed that if she stayed at home as the fulltime carer and Joey went out to work, they would reassess the situation, with a view to the kids coming back permanently. On her return home she found Joey still in bed, again.
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Right, Ive had enough. Pack your stuff and fuck off! W-what? But where would I go? said Joey, scratching his balls. I couldnt give a flying fuck, she said, throwing his stuff out of the bedroom door and onto the landing. I work fucking hard to bring money into this house, while you stink all day in your pit and now because of you, the kids have been taken away. Dont throw me out, he begged. Ill do anything. Im nothing without you! Youre nothing, full stop! They said Ive got to turn this place into a child-friendly, habitable home, not the shithouse you leave it in. Okay, okay, look, Ill help you make this place a palace, he said, rushing around tidying clothes off the floor. And where will the money come from now Ive got to stay at home all day and do your job looking after them, eh? Err, I dont know, Ill get a job or something. You? A job? Dont make me piss! Youve never had a job in your life. Who the fucks going to employ you, you crispy-looking twat? I dont know but dont leave me. Ill do anything, ANYTHING! Okay then, said Jean, looking for any excuse to throw him out. You go selling windows while I say home and bring up the kids! W-w-whatme.workingwith those two? Exactly, youre full of shit. You say want to be with me but the truth is you just dont want to be on your own and have to lift a finger, do you? No, no, I will, Ill do it. Ill go and work with them if thats what you want, Joey begged in desperation. Thats what I want. The hard bit will be getting Casino to agree. I might have to give them both a blow job get them to agree though! Okay, said Joey, you get them to agree and Ill give it a go.
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Around 5pm, the car pulled up and Casino and Yogi walked down the path with Jeans wages. Hi lads, come in, said Jean, wearing a black rubber dress. Fucking hell Jean, you look hot! said Casino, taking in the outfit. I know, Jean replied confidently, closing the door behind Yogi as he walked into the wall at the foot of the stairs head first through staring back at her tits. Whats the occasion? asked Yogi, got a client waiting or something? No, no, just a relaxing night in. Casino walked into the lounge. It was immaculate. Wow, youve been busy, said Casino, looking around. How did it go with Social Services? Err, okay, I suppose, hence the place scrubbed clean. Wheres soppy bollocks? asked Yogi, looking around for Joey. Oh, I sent him out for a few hours. I just wanted some space, she said, sitting on the chair opposite them with her legs slightly apart, just enough to let them see she had no panties on. Fuck Jean, youll get rheumatism of the clout if you sit like that for too long, said Yogi. Oh, what would you prefer me to sit on, then? she said cheekily, slipping onto the floor and crawling towards them on all fours. Casino watched her with an expression of puzzlement on his face. Jean knelt in front of them both and started to slide her hands along their thighs. Fucking magic, said Yogi as she reached his groin. This is what I call a Friday night and its only tea-time! Hang on, said Casino, grabbing her hand to stop her going any further. Whats going on, Jean? What do you mean? she replied unconvincingly. Look, were mates, right? Yes? And although youre fit as fuck, when did we ever try to shag you? Never! Although Im sure itd be good fun, we
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dont because were mates, so what the fuck are you playing at? Yogis big head regained control of his little head and he realised, reluctantly, that he had to agree. Jean paused for thought for a moment then sat back on the rug and sparked up a cigarette. Okay, okay youre right. It doesnt feel right anyway, but I didnt know how else to deal with it. Deal with what? asked Yogi. Look, the Social say I cant have the kids back unless I become a fulltime mum, as spunk-bubble is pointless and a danger to them. So? So, I cant come to work anymore--well, not for at least a month or so anyway, until I get the kids back. And you thought you had to fuck us both just to tell us that? asked Casino still perplexed. No, there was something else. Okay, here we go, said Yogi. What? I have to get Joey out of the way while they make unannounced visits to see everything is normal, so I need you to take him to work in my place, she said with a hopeful false grin on her face, expecting a barrage of abuse. She got it! No way, no fucking way! said Casino. You can fuck off if you think Im spending all day and night with that wanker five times a week! Yogi added. Look I know, I understand and I expected that, hence the offer of a blow job each, but I really need this favour from you; youre my only mates. Blow job? said Yogi, eyes opening wide as little head woke up again. Shut up, Casino said to him, then turned to Jean. Oh fucking hell Jean, theres a favour and theres a favour, you know? I know and if you say no, youre still my mate but I really need this. If nothing else, youve got yourself a bitch for the month. He told me about some of the shit you did to him last time.
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After a minutes silence from them both, they turned and looked at each other, then nodded in reluctant agreement. Okay, okay, well do it, said Casino. Oh thanks mate, seriously, said Jean jumping up to hug him. I know, said Casino, pushing her back, but on two conditions. Okay, go for it. One, if hes as shit as I expect him to be or if he pisses me off like I expect he will, hes sacked and you dont hold it against us. Fair enough, said Jean gratefully. And two, put some knickers on now, before I pin you down and give you the best fucking youve had in weeks! Jean laughed as she stood to walk to the door to change her clothes. You still can if you want, she said cheekily. I havent been spit roasted in years! Then she set off up the staircase. Fucking hell, said Yogi. Im going to have to go for a cheeky wank now. Me too, said Casino, remembering her wriggle her little arse as she left the room. I meant it, by the way, she shouted back to them both from the top of the stairs. Just the once for old times sake, it might have been fun. Yogi looked at Casino intensely as he stared back. Fuck it, Casino said jumping to his feet, lets nail the bitch! Monday morning, Casino went into the office and informed them Jean needed a month off, so in her place he would personally train Joey but he needed another trainee to make up the numbers, as Jean was as good as any two in the building combined. It was agreed and he was given another girl to complement the team. This turned out to be a bad move! Dani was a buxom, bucktoothed, big arsed, big titted slapper from Bolton. She had no shame and fancied herself as one of the lads. She enjoyed nothing more than getting her
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tits out in public and if one more brain cell had died, the other would have been very lonely! Initially, she was just what they needed to relieve the boredom of same old, same old long nights driving around. Yogi was especially happy with the set-up: a gopher and a slapper, perfect! Joey was taken into the main room to meet the others. As expected, he was greeted with grunts and nods. In the glazing trade, guys werent accepted until they did something to impress the others, or at least prove themselves to be okay, whereas girls were accepted immediately until they did something to piss them off. Dani had already proved herself to be one of the lads after someone shouted down from the seventh floor window, Dani, show us your tits! and she obligingly plopped them out right in the middle of Deansgate, in the middle of the day with hundreds of people walking by. Joey was frowned upon as soon as they saw him. Is he with you? asked Jim. At 40 something years of age, Jim was the oldest man on the knocker. Hed been there since it started and had seen and done everything. His stories entertained all the young lads and he was looked upon as a funny, if not disgraceful sort of father figure. Yeah, we went to school with him, said Yogi, but hes not a mate or anything, hes just a cunt. Okay. Is he a faggot then? No, cant say he ever has been either. Why? We saw him mince down the corridor when you brought him in. Hes got to be a faggot! Seriously, no, he isnt. Look, its fucking obvious, said Jim, unconvinced. There must be more mincemeat up is arse than in a cottage pie! Ah, hang on, Id forgotten, said Yogi. He got a light bulb stuck up his ricker when we were kids and it lacerated his dirt box into sliced pieces. A fucking light bulb? How? He was having a wank while bumming himself with it. I told you he was a cunt!
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Jesus, I thought I was brave letting the Missus shove anal love beads up mine! What? said Yogi, still not happy about anything going near his own arsehole. Yeah, its great. She sticks a long length of beads up my arse and while I fuck her, she pulls them out slowly one by one. As Im about to hit the jackpot, she rips them out with one massive tug and it makes me chuck-mi-muck halfway across the room! Fucking hell, said Yogi, disgusted, you dirty, dirty old bastard! Thats fucking rich coming from you, said Casino, catching the end of the conversation as he entered the room. Fuck off, said Yogi, not wanting to be classed anywhere near the same league as Jim and his arsehole perversions. Right, time to sort out the food situation, said Casino. Joey, come here. Listen and learn. This will be your job in the future and itll help you to bullshit you way into peoples houses. Casino sat behind a desk in a big leather chair and picked up a telephone. Ring, ring. Hello, McDonalds. Duty manager, please. Hello, Dan speaking. Dan, whats your surname? Err, Dan Kershaw. Dan K-er-sh-aw, Casino repeated back, pretending to write his name down to get him worried. And youre the duty manager, right? Err, yes sir, can I help you with anything? Yes, you can, Dan, replied Casino, now with an audience listening to him from the other side of his desk. I have just been into your branch and purchased a burger Happy Meal with a Coke. Yes sir.
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When I got back to my office, I opened it and took a big bite. Yes sir? I immediately spat it out onto my desk. It was a cheeseburger. Im dangerously allergic to cheese. I COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED!!! Oherr...Im sorry s Youre lucky I didnt swallow it or you would have been on the front page of the Manchester Evening News for manslaughter! Everyone in the office burst out laughing. Shhhh. Sir, I am so sorry. I cant apologise enough. If you want to bring it back and come to the front of the counter I will personally prepare you a new meal, sir. Bring it back? Casino said, raising his voice. Ive just brought it up! Im not touching it. I dont even want to look at it. Its already in the bin! Of course not, sir, just come in and I will replace it. Ive gone right off the idea of a burger. It will be a week before I can face another one after that. Make it a McBreakfast instead. Im sorry, sir, we stopped breakfasts two hours ago. Are you seriously trying to get a rise out of me or something? No sir, of course not, sir. Then I suggest you get me a McBreakfast out of the back and start cooking it now. Ill send a colleague round in 15 minutes to collect it, okay? Okay sir, not a problem, sir. Good. He is called Joey, and I expect a vanilla milkshake with it too as compensation, okay? Of course, sir. Im starving now. Ill just have to munch on this piece of Gorgonzola until it arrives. Goodbye. Thank you sir, goodbye sir. Click. Fucking classic, said Yogi as everybody burst out laughing. Gorgonzola and he didnt even realise, what a tit.
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Okay, thats lunch sorted; what should we have for tea? I know, Kentucky Fried Chicken, said Casino, lifting the receiver to dial out again. Ring, ring. Hello, is that Kentucky? Put me on to the manager, please. Hello. Are you the manager? Yes. And do you always answer your telephone without introducing yourself or asking what you can do for me? Err...I...oh...s-sorry sir, my name is Chuckles from the listening crowd. Never mind that now, too late. Im led to believe that your bargain buckets have eight pieces of chicken in them; is this correct? Err, yes sir, that is correct. Well, I came in last night and purchased one of your aforementioned bargain buckets for my family. Yes sir? Well, when I got it home and opened it, I was angered to find it only had six pieces of chicken in it! Oh. Oh indeed! Seven pieces would have been bad, but six is just taking the piss! Would you agree? The room fell about with stifled laughter. Yes sir, I would. I have a wife and two children. Can you imagine trying to split six pieces of chicken between four people? It ended in tears!! I am very sorry sir, please come in to see me and I will give you your two missing pieces. Are you taking the piss? No sir, not at all. Well, what the hell are we supposed to do with two pieces of chicken, nibble on one side and pass it on? Err...
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I live four miles away from your establishment. Thats an eight-mile round trip just to collect the two pieces of chicken that I have already paid for! No, I dont like your attitude at all. Right, your name and the full address of your head office, please. Casino took a sip of his coffee and winked at the others. Im s-sorry sir, can I offer you... I dont wish to discuss it with you any longer; your name and the address, please. After taking down the details, he read them back to confirm they were correct. Yes sir, thats correct but before you go, can I please offer you a complimentary ten-piece bargain bucket in way of an apology? Ten! How am I to split ten between four people? Err. What about twelve pieces; that would go three each, right? he said, chuckling to himself. Yes sir, thats fine. Okay then, I will be in around 4pm and I will ask for you personally. Goodbye. Thank you sir and goodbye. Click. Pass me an envelope. Im still going to write to the head office and get a voucher for another free bucket. Joey listened in amazement and couldnt believe how easy Casino made the blags look. Do you get away with this often? he asked. Yeah, dozens of shift managers, thousands of customers and four shops within a mile of here. Safeways is the best, though. They know what Im doing but cant do a thing to stop me because its company policy. What do you mean? They have a policy that if a customer complains about any of their own brand products, they have to offer either twice the money back or the money back and a replacement. Basically, I go and buy a packet of barbequed chicken wings for 2.50. I cook them in the microwave in the kitchen behind you, then take the receipt and the packaging back and tell them they tasted like shit. They give me my
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money back and another pack of chicken wings. So it doesnt cost me a single penny to eat two packets of wings. If I dont fancy any more wings... Because youve also just eaten a free Happy Meal? interrupted Yogi. because Ive also just eaten a free Happy Meal, laughed Casino, then I refuse the replacement and they just give me double my money back instead, i.e., I havent spent a penny and theyve just paid me 2.50 to eat a free packet of delicious barbequed chicken wings!! Its genius! They know what Im doing and give me dirty looks but there is absolutely fuck all they can say to me because some dozy old twat on the board of directors thought he had come up with a great customer service idea! Joey stood trying to work out everything he had just heard. Look, just fuck off and get my McBreakfast before your head explodes! Joey put his jacket on and set off to McDonalds. What about supper? asked Yogi. Good point, dear boy, said Casino, picking up the phone for a third time. Ring, ring. Hello, Pizza Hut. The manager, please. Speaking. OK, I am telephoning to complain about a meal I purchased last night from your shop. Ok sir, what was the problem? Well, I ordered a large Meat Feast with cheese and garlic piped crust. Ok sir, and what was wrong with it? When I pulled out a slice I was gutted to find the crust was empty. It had no cheese in it. I only buy them because I love the cheesy garlic piping. 15 is a lot of money for no cheesy garlic piping, isnt it? Oh dear, it certainly is, and when did you say this was?
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Last night about 10pm. Okay sir, could you just hold the line a moment, please? Click. This guy's got more about him than the other two, said Casino to the group, still listening. Dont know where hes gone to, though. Click Hello sir, are you still there? Yes, Im still here. Well, Im just going through last nights till-roll and it appears we didnt sell a Meat Feast all evening! Casino jumped to his feet, screwed up his face and mouthed the words, Fuck, Fuck! to the others, while thinking quickly. Hang on, this is the King Street branch of Pizza Hut Im speaking to, isnt it? No sir, this is the Deansgate branch of Pizza Hut you are speaking to, he replied sarcastically, knowing exactly what Casino was up to. Ah, sorry, looks like I dialled the wrong number. Looks like you did, sir. Goodbye. Yeah, goodbye. Click. Funny cunt. Fuck me, that was close. Oh well, suppers off!
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Chapter 8 - Flashing, gashing and Elvis bashing

It was a beautifully sunny day and everybody was in a good mood. Casino filled up with petrol then set off towards Hairy Berts for refreshments. On the way, he spotted a small building site where a new health centre was being built. Here, watch this, he said, pipping his horn. A few workers looked up but others carried on working. He pipped the horn again, more continuously and for longer. Eventually, everyone on the site came out to see what the noise was all about. Okay Dani, show them your tits. Okay, she replied as she wound down the window and pulled down her top to plop her massive bazookas out over the side of the rear door window. A loud Woohoo went up and the men started clapping. Casino waved at them then drove on, making their day. Every time they hear a car horn from now on, theyll always look round to see if its us. See how easy it is to permanently affect someone elses life? As they pulled up outside Hairy Berts they saw another of their company cars outside. It was Chris Murphy and his team. Casino had brought a couple of crews he had worked with to the caf and they had all started to use it. Inside, Casino ordered steak and onions with chips and sat down on the table next to Chris, Jim and Malcolm. Hows it going? he asked. Not bad, not bad, said Chris. Where are you working tonight? Dont know yet, you? Same. This was normal conversation in the business. You never told anyone where you where working or had worked, especially if you were having a good week. The property stayed a secret, as it wasnt uncommon to find yourself being tailed by another crew to see where your best sites were, only to hear that they had gone there the night after and pinched your customers.
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Yogi sat down and started reminiscing about the past. Remember our first time in here? Trying to watch the fifth formers finger the girls under the tables. Yeah, laughed Casino. I bet Jean still does. Joey looked over and also remembered being chased down the back alley by her. I wonder what happened to all those girls that used to hang out here. Well, you smoked a joint with one last night, remember? Yeah, I know about Jean but I meant all the others. Old Jim joined in the conversation. Theyre probably down Canal Street sucking cock. I bet Ive pumped a few of them full a couple of times before now. What, you go with prostitutes? asked Yogi, intrigued. Every Friday night, have done for years. While you little faggots are throwing your money away at that casino, Im down the Marble Arch for a skin-full of ale, then when it gets dark I trundle off down Canal Street, bend one of those lovely young pieces of flesh over the wall and give her both barrels of my love honey right up the flute. Fucking hell, said Yogi, absolutely fascinated. I thought they were all smack heads. Not at all. In fact, sometimes you have to watch what youre doing, as there are some devious little bitches there too. One night I was so pissed up that I could hardly stand. I asked this bird standing with her mate for a hand job. They were that busy talking that they said that if I paid them a tenner, I could get in the back of their car and as one wanked me off, the other would go down on her mate for me, just so they could carry on their conversation! Fuck yeah! exclaimed Yogi, now thinking he was getting Friday nights all wrong. What happened? Well, I was enjoying the show, but I was so full of ale that I couldnt get anywhere near cuming. They started getting arsey, telling me to hurry up and saying I was taking too long. Eventually, they got so pissed off with me that one of them opened the door and the pair of them kicked me out onto the hard cobbles, then drove off. Fucking bitches!
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Everyone laughed. Jim was always full of stories. The funniest thing about him was that he didnt laugh back; he couldnt understand why they found him so funny. The stories he told were just normal life for him, which made it even funnier for everyone else. You know what? said Yogi on reflection. Thats got to be my ideal job. What is? asked Malcolm, pinching a chip off the side of Casinos plate as Bert put his piping hot meal down on the table for him. Being a male prostitute. You fucking what? said Jim. I always thought you looked a bit faggoty. Fuck off! said Yogi. You think everyone looks faggoty because youre just a crispy old hillbilly-looking scruffy cunt! Cheeky little bastard, said Jim, taking a swipe at Yogi, who was far too young and agile to be hit. No, continued Yogi, I mean a male prostitute for 13 year old girls just starting to experiment with their puberty. Oh, will you fuck off! said Casino in disgust. Whats wrong with you? I had a bad experience once, said Jim in deep thought. Oh here we go again, said Casino, another story thats going to scar me for life, Im sure. Shhhh, let him finish, said Yogi, hoping it was going to be yet another Jim classic. I drove down to Longsight one night on my scooter to get some fanny. When I got there, I saw a young prossy on a street corner in a fur coat. I asked her how much for a fuck, she said 10 but said she had a flat just round the corner where it was much warmer and I could fuck her in her bed for 15. It was cold so I thought, Fuck it, why not, the kids will just have to have crisps for tea. Casino spat a piece of his steak across the table laughing. Jim looked at him straight faced. What? he asked.
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Nothing, said Casino, still laughing at his last comment. Carry on. Well, I gave her the money and when we got inside the flat, she dropped the fur coat to show she had nothing on underneath it. Wow, top girl, said Yogi, getting well into the story. Thats just it, said Jim disappointedly. She was a girl. No tits, flat as a pancake, and no pubes. Fucking hell! said Casino. How old was she? Thirteen, at the most. Jesus Christ, what did you do? What could I do? Id already paid her. I had to fuck her! The entire caf fell about laughing hysterically at Jims shocking philosophical thought process, while he just sat wondering what he had said that was so funny. But youve got a 13 year old daughter yourself, havent you? And? 15 quids 15 quid!! Everyone roared laughing again. Eventually Jim stood up and wandered over to the old Jukebox in the corner. It was an old classic grease-covered 1950s Jukebox that hadnt had any new records put into it since the day it had been installed. No one ever played it, except for Bert when there were no customers in and she was on her own. Jim selected a couple of tracks and walked back to his seat. Moments later Jailhouse Rock came over the speaker. You can turn that shit off right now! said Casino, agitated. Whats wrong with Elvis? asked Jim. Oh dont get him started, said Yogi. Ive had this all my life; hell be on his soapbox in a minute. Ill tell you whats wrong with Elvis fucking Presley, snapped Casino, banging his fork down on his plate. Hes shit! Thats whats wrong with him. What, the King? said Jim, shocked that anyone wouldnt love Elvis. Dont give me that King of Rock n Roll shit! Casino snapped through gritted teeth. Only a retard would believe
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that bollocks. What the fuck did he ever do to deserve that title? Eh? He lived off the backs of songwriters, thats all. Those songs would have been big regardless of who sang them. He co-wrote one album track that nobody even remembers. Eddie Cochran, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Gene Vincent, now youre talking, but dont ever use the words Elvis and king in the same sentence in front of me again. Then he picked up his fork and continued with his meal. Still feel strongly about that then, do you? asked Yogi sarcastically. Casino ignored him and continued looking down at his food. Whatever you do, dont get him started on Country and Western. Whats wrong with country? Jim unfortunately asked too loudly. Fucking Country and Western? snapped Casino. Music for the mentally retarded, lyrics for the intellectual stimulation of slow learning 3 year olds, tinny whiney steel guitars and mind-numbingly depressing stories about My aunties neighbours dead grandmas dog has got the cancer again, for fucks sake. Silence. Anyway, said Malcolm, breaking the silence and changing the subject, give us a chip, as he quickly snatched another one off Casinos plate. Look, dont pinch my chips, okay? said Casino, very straight-faced, at him. If you want some, go and buy your own. If you havent got any money, Ill lend you some but dont touch my food, okay? Woooo, said Malcolm, implying he was being oversensitive about a couple of chips. Yogi shook his head at Malcolm. He knew all about Casino and his food hygiene; hed witnessed it since they were 4 years old. Casino continued with his meal, then Malcolm did it again. Casino stopped eating and looked up at him. I wont tell you again, he said, staring him out. Malcolm laughed, enjoying the attention he was getting from the others. A minute later Malcolm moved his hand quickly towards Casinos plate in an attempt to take
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another chip. Casino was ready for him and, at lightning speed, stabbed Malcolm in the hand with his fork. Yeow! he screamed, jumping to his feet. The fork was deeply embedded in the meaty part on the back of his hand between the base of the thumb and the index finger. He was in agony and moaned like a bitch for half an hour. What the fuck did you do that for? he asked, looking at the fork still sticking out of his hand, the meat throbbing in pulsating pain. I warned you three times, you prick, said Casino. Now go and get me another fork before I stick it in your neck. Malcolm, unsure now if he was just joking or being serious, got up and brought him a new fork in silence, while everyone else laughed. They decided to set off towards Halifax; this was to be their pitch for the evening. Dani, although kept on for pure entertainment value, was useless at the job. Male customers were happy to sit and listen to her because she looked and acted like a slut but their wives wanted nothing to do with her, her product or meeting her manager because she acted and looked like a slut! She only did well with houses that were owned by single men and she often infuriated Casino by taking over an hour to do the 20-minute questionnaire because she just talked so much shit instead of getting to the point. Right Dani, youd better book tonight or there will be repercussions, said Casino as they drove down the slip road onto the M62. What do you mean, repercussions? she asked. I dont know, what do you suggest, Yogi? If you dont book, he said, thinking about the question, then youve got to show us your flaps on the way home. Good one, said Casino, moving into the fast lane. Ill book, Ill book, I will, said Dani, more interested in keeping him happy than she was worried about getting her knickers off. Youre not on, are you? asked Casino.
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No. Oh, thats okay then. Here you go; you might as well get some practice in, he said, pulling alongside a HGV at 60mph. Pull your skirt up and flash him your knickers. The poor fucker has probably been driving for hours, bored to death listening to Bruno Brookes! Dani opened the window, lay back across Joeys lap and pulled her skirt up, showing off her white panties. Casino pipped his horn several times and Yogi stuck his head out of his window signalling the HGV driver to look into the back seat. All he could see were two wide-open legs and a pair of white knickers. Woohoo! he shouted down from his cab, blasting his air horn at the same time. Get em off, he shouted, come on, get em off. Go on Dani, make his day. She pushed both her legs out of the window, dangling them over the side of the car, moving her crotch closer to him, then slipped her knickers down to her knees. Woohoo! he shouted again, blasting his air horn more than before. Dangling his arm from his cab, he made a gesture to pass him the knickers. Go on, said Yogi, give them to him. Dani peeled off her panties, stretched up and handed them to the driver. He held them up to his nose and sniffed hard on them, then put them on his head, wearing them as a hat, waved gratefully and drove off. Hey, my fucking knickers! said Dani as Casino, Yogi and Joey laughed. Hes pinched my best fucking knickers! Shut up, said Casino. You wont want them back now; theyll be full of gizz by the time we get to the next service station! Yeah, laughed Yogi, youd better keep your legs shut tonight while doing questionnaires or youll be the most popular salesgirl in town. More like scare the shit out of them, added Casino as they laughed all the way to Halifax.
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It was a fair night for business. Yogi booked; even Joey booked. It seemed that Joey was surprisingly successful at the job because nobody felt threatened by him. The customers didnt see a sales pitch and felt a bit sorry for him, as they thought perhaps he was a bit simple. They were only battered into submission later when Casino turned up. As expected, yet again, Dani didnt book! Casino was now tiring of her. Right Dani, said Casino as they drove out of Halifax town centre, what did we say you had to do tonight if you didnt book? Dani didnt answer. We said she had to show us her flaps, said Yogi, turning round in the front passenger seat and smirking at her. Come on, get em out. Eventually she reluctantly opened her legs wide for them all to see. Oooo, said Yogi, wincing, look at the size of them, you could tie them in a bow! Fuck off, you cheeky twat! said Dani, while Joey leant over for a closer look, nodding in agreement. Here, lets see, said Casino, angling his rear view mirror for a better look and turning on the interior light while still driving. Fucking hell, Dani, youve got some serious pubes there, girl; itd be like going down on a fucking Brillo pad! By the time they crossed the moors back into Lancashire, Yogi had got both of Danis feet sticking through the holes in the front seat headrests and was examining her fanny by gently prodding it with the rubber end of his pencil. Casino turned round to see it again. Fuck me, thats a big gash a big gash a big gash. Echo echo echo he laughed as the others joined in. Fuck off, the lot of you! snapped Dani. Next day in the office, Yogi came back into the openers meeting room complaining. Which one of you dirty bastards left the babys arm in the shitter? Ive flushed it three times and its going nowhere!
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Yeah, I know, added Malcolm. It stands up out of the water about a foot. It looks like a snakes been in there for its monthly dump. I went in there earlier and I swear it winked at me! Thats fucking council, said Casino. Youd better take a stick and break its back to get it down, then. Fuck off, Im not touching it, said Yogi. Joey, go and find a stick! I bet it was you, wasnt it you dirty old bastard? Yogi said to Jim. Fuck off, you little twat, it wasnt me! Jim insisted. Yeah hes right, added Casino. It sounds like an old mans turd to me. Fuck off, I said it wasnt me, all right? Joey nodded at Casino; he had seen Jim come out of the toilet ten minutes earlier, doing up his belt. Yogi, realising that Jim was being defensive, decided to wind him up further. Jim was a grumpy old bastard at the best of times and acted more like a 60 year old. Even Casinos stick-in-the-mud dad seemed young by comparison. Yogi changed the subject to catch Jim off guard, knowing he was a dirty old bastard. Hey Jim, I was just thinking, you cant beat taking your partner from behind bent over the bed, can you? he said, bending over a table mimicking the actions of someone shagging from behind, doggy style. No, said Jim smiling, you cant. Yogi continued. ...but the best bit is just when you get to the vinegar stroke, you reach round and wank him off as well! Oooo, you fucking dirty little faggot! said Jim, disgusted, his mental imagery ruined, as everyone else laughed. Fuck off, said Casino, joining in the windup. Are you trying to tell us youve never bummed a man in your perverted little life? No, I fucking havent, Jim insisted, not at all amused with the conversation.
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What are you saying, then? asked Yogi. Are you a receiver? Im fucking warning you fag boy, youre on very thin ice! Okay, okay calm down, said Yogi, backing away as Jim moved forward towards him. Actually, I wouldnt mind sleeping with a man for a change, just to see what its like. Everyone laughed hard as Jim looked on at him with a mixture of disgust and hatred. He didnt have a sense of humour and he didnt like Yogi because he had only been there a couple of months and he constantly took the piss out of Jim. Faggot! he spat out as he turned away. Youve got room to talk, sticking love beads up your arse, Yogi continued. I bet you sniff poppers to relax your arsehole before the missus shoves the bedside lamp up there, eh? then ran out of the room as Jim chased after him. Casino, not one to miss out on a windup, asked Joey if he had eaten yet today. No I didnt have time. Well, I was going to have a pizza for lunch but you can have it if you want. Im not hungry. Are you sure? asked Joey, still not used to the new more civil relationship he was uncomfortably enduring with him, obviously only as a favour to Jean but still... Yeah, Ill get something at Hairy Berts later, he replied. Cheers, thanks, said Joey as he walked into the kitchen and unwrapped a 12 Hawaiian Pizza sitting on the work surface. Obviously, it wasnt Casinos! He had noticed Jim put it there earlier. Five minutes later, Casino chuckled as he heard the ping of the microwave to tell Joey it was ready. Whispering in Yogis ear what he had done, they both burst out laughing. Keep Jim busy until hes eaten the lot, said Casino. Okay, replied Yogi still laughing, knowing that Grumpy Jim was going to explode when he found out.
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Hey Jim, tell Casino what you got up to on Saturday night; hell love that one. Jim, still suspicious of Yogi, relaxed a little and started a story from his endless catalogue of personal dodgy vice tales. Yeah, he began, Ive been on one of those chat lines that you can leave messages on to find fuck buddies. Fuck off, youre kidding, right? said Casino, encouraging his attention away from the delicious smell that was coming from Joeys pizza he was eating on the table behind him. No, theyre great, continued Jim. I found a message from this bird that likes threesomes with married couples. So I left her a message and weve been chatting to each other about getting together for a few weeks. What, your missus is game for a threesome? asked Casino. No is she fuck, shed hit the fucking roof if I suggested that. So whats the point in chatting to her, then? Well, I just implied that my missus was far too shy to speak on the phone but has always been a bit bi-curious, so eventually we agreed to meet at her place last Saturday night for a threesome. And? And I told the missus I was going to an annual darts do, so I got suited up, bought a nice bottle of vino, a bunch of flowers and turned up on my own. Fuck, what happened? When she opened the door and saw just me standing there, she looked a bit worried so I told her that I wasnt staying and was sorry but the missus had bottled out at the last minute and sent me round to apologise with the flowers and the wine. Fucking hell, said Casino, amazed by the temerity of the man. So what happened? Well, she was very grateful and asked me if I wanted to come in for a chat while I was there. She opened the wine, we drank the bottle, and I spent the rest of the night hanging out of her!
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Jesus, youre a shifty old bastard, arent you? Its not any wonder you sell glazing! I know, laughed Jim. Youve got to keep moving or one day youll find youre dead! Unbelievable, said Casino then, noticing Joey coming to the end of the pizza, he smiled at him. Thanks Casino, said Joey gratefully. What? replied Casino, implying he didnt know what he was talking about. Err, I said thanks for the pizza, he repeated loud enough for the whole room to hear. What pizza? asked Casino innocently. Jim turned round to see Joey sitting there with a halfmoon crust in his hands. Oh, that pizza! said Casino as Yogi burst out laughing. No, my pizzas still in the fridge at home; I meant I would get it for you on our way out later. I think that mouthwatering pizza youve just enjoyed was Jims, wasnt it, Jim? You fucking little twat! shouted Jim turning red with rage. Ill fucking kill you, you bastard! he said, getting to his feet. Run Joey, quick! said Malcolm as everyone in the room laughed and moved out of the way. Joey shot up the corridor and down the fire escape as Jim tried in vain to catch him. Friday came round again, payday and everybody was happy except Dani, who had a face like a slapped arse. Whats wrong with you? asked Casino. Oh, its the kid. Hes causing me grief again and getting in the way. What kid? asked Yogi My kid. What, youve got a kid? said Casino, equally surprised, as she had never mentioned it before. Yeah, a boy. Poor little fucker, thought Casino, having that for a mother, I bet hell be proud when he grows up!
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Poor little fucker, said Yogi, having you for a mother, I bet hell be proud when he grows up! Unbelievable! said Casino at Yogis lack of tact Fuck off Yogi, you cheeky bastard, said Dani. Just leave the little fucker on someones doorstep; they can adopt him, said Yogi, uninterested. Hes 8 years old! Eight! said Casino. Who looks after him when youre out with us every night? Nobody, hes got a key; he lets himself in after school. Fucking hell, said Casino in disgusted surprise. What about his tea and supper? There are plenty of crisps, bread and jam in the cupboard! Fuck me! snapped Casino, now getting angry at just how council she was. I take it back Yogi, the poor little fucker, having that for a mother! As they arrived at Sergeant Yorkies, Casino pulled Yogi to one side. Fuck her, he said angrily. Shes shit at her job, shes council as fuck and she gets on my tits. Shes gone! Okay, how do you want to do it? Im not waiting for weeks before I can sack her. We need her to leave of her own accord. She wont do that; shes got nothing else to do. Then youll have to fuck her! What? said Yogi, confused. How does that sort anything? Look, its simple, Casino continued. If you want a girl to stay, you fuck her. If you want a girl to leave, you fuck her. Its how you fuck her that matters! Ah, I get it, said Yogi, you mean fuck her, then fuck her off? Exactly. Starting Monday, fuck her and make her feel as cheap as she is. Eventually, humiliated, shell just fuck off anyway.
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Maybe but there arent many brain cells in there to feel humiliation. Ill do my best. They walked inside and Casino assumed his usual position at the Roulette table, as serious as ever, in deep concentration, betting only on black. Yogi watched him lose a few quid but pull it back to finish over 200 up. He did his usual silent walk to the car, making notes. Look, what exactly are you doing? asked Yogi, finally realising he must be working on a blag. Ill tell you soon, said Casino as he pulled away from the kerb. I just need another couple of weeks.
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Chapter 9 - Blowbacks, whizz and mushrooms

Saturday. Yogi turned up at the Black Horse around 7pm to find Casino playing pool with a couple of the regulars. All right? said Casino, noticing Yogi seemed a bit hyper and excited. Yep! replied Yogi, grinning. Whats up? he asked curiously, knowing something had happened. He knew Yogi better than Yogi knew himself. Come here and look at this, he whispered loudly in a suspicious and unsubtle manner. Casino followed him into the other room that was void of people. Yogi looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then pulled out a small packet of white powder. What is it? asked Casino. Speed! Where did you get it? The guy next door to my mum. Hes into allsorts. He offered me this bag for a fiver so I thought what the fuck! Whats it like? Casino asked curiously. Fucking amazing. I only had a little dab an hour ago and I already feel like superman! Yogi grinned at him with a mad look in his eyes. Casino noticed his pupils were fully dilated, giving him an even more psychotic look than usual, then realised he was clearly whizzing his bollocks off. Want some? Casino paused for a moment in contemplation, figured it was Saturday night after all, then looked over his shoulder. Fuck it, go on then! He licked the end of his index finger, dipped it into the bag and stuck it into his mouth. Fuck! he grimaced. It tastes like privet leaves! Yeah, the best stuff always does. They had another pint and carried on playing pool. An hour later, Casino realised that he had just drunk five pints of Guinness and smoked ten cigarettes without even noticing and without any effect on him. He was whizzing around the table on his own, potting anything that was round in shape,
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regardless of colour, while Yogi was talking an Asian guy to death at 100 miles per hour about the problem with the governments attitude towards race relations. Becoming restless, they went on a pub-crawl and three hours later ended up in The Candlelight, dancing nonstop until the music ended at 2pm and they were asked to leave. After walking a couple of old slappers home, they were invited in for a foursome and fucked them rigid from 4am until noon the following morning, like a couple of half-men-halfsewing machines. Eventually the girls collapsed, exhausted, into a coma, feeling like they had been ram-raided by a couple of high-speed trains, while Casino and Yogi walked home, trying to think of something else to do. Sunday. At 3pm they collapsed into their beds and slept right through until Monday morning. Monday. They arrived at the office, where Terry Woods, a pleasant but shifty character, was happily telling everyone about his weekend being chased around Wythenshawe by the police in a brand new BMW he had just stolen. This was commonplace in the office. Each character got up to pretty much the same thing weekend in and weekend out. Jim had his prostitutes, Bollocks Bradshaw (socalled because he constantly talked a load of old bollocks) had his sexual conquests and pub brawls, while Terry had his car thieving. He had spent a lot of time building it to an art form. For years, he and his friends had spent their weekends travelling all around the country going into BMW dealerships suited up to look the part, pretending they were company directors interested in buying a new car. Again, these were the days of lax security, as it was in pretty much every industry. Each new car came with three keys. The dealerships almost always left the new cars standing in the showrooms with all three keys on a key ring in the ignition so they didnt misplace them. Although a large amount of BMWs were produced, there were only so many barrels produced before they repeated them and so the same key would be used in several cars. Terry and his friends took it in turns to sit inside the cars while a salesman explained specifications and optional extras. When he wasnt looking, they would quickly
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remove one key from the fob and slip it into their pockets. Over a period of time they had dozens of these keys stashed away safely. On Saturday evenings, they would meet up somewhere and steal an old car to take them to find their BMW for the night. When they spotted a nice new BMW parked up outside a restaurant or on a driveway, the others waited in the car, while one of them took the bunch and quickly tried the keys until one unlocked the door. The others then left the stolen car where they had parked it and dashed into the BMW, driving away for a blast down the motorway or a night out by the coast. When bored in the early hours, they drove somewhere a few miles from where they lived and dumped it. A couple of streets later they would steal another easy to break into old car to get them back home again, dumping that one half a mile away. This was their thing. Often Terry would come in on Monday morning telling stories of where they had got to, or how the police had chased them. This morning he was telling how he had been chased for miles up and down country lanes by a copper in a Capri 2.8 Injection who was such a good driver that he couldnt shake him off and eventually had to drive into a field and dump the BMW so they could run off in different directions. The copper, realising there was four of them, sensibly decided to stay with the stolen car, so they got away with it. Quality citizens, double-glazing salesmen! So how many of you let one into your house in the 80s? Notice anything missing after they left? Casino walked into the room and on hearing yet another police chase story, immediately turned around and walked back out again. The first couple of times you heard Terrys stories was interesting but after months of them it became tediously boring, this and the fact that he could talk constantly without coming up for breath about any subject, from concrete floor foundations to biscuit tin lids, was too painful for words.
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As he passed by the reception, Casino noticed that Jammy the Tammy was coming out of the lift with her trademark overalls, greasy short lesbian-looking boys haircut and an empty sanitary towel bin in her un-gloved hand. Obviously, Jammy wasnt her actual name; one of the lads had christened her this because it rhymed. Everyone disappeared whenever she came into the building to swap over the ladies used tampon bin in the toilets; equally, no-one would get in a lift with her either. The thought of travelling in a sealed compartment with a greasy lesbian holding a rancidsmelling used tammy bin was definitely a no-no. They would always wait for the next one or just walk instead. It wasnt like she spent her lunch hour rolling around in them or anything, but her working days were spent handling items that blokes just didnt want or need to know anything about, like ever! After changing the tammy bin, she would walk into the reception and ask for a pen to sign a sheet to prove she had been there. Even the receptionists hid all their pens, not wanting one back after she had touched it. Casino pulled his pens from out of the breast pocket of his shirt and quickly stuffed them out of sight into a trouser pocket. Hello, have you got a pen, please? she asked in her monotone semi-retarded voice. Oh, err, said the receptionist, pretending to search her desk, thats funny, I had one a minute ago. Casino, you havent got a pen we could borrow for a minute, have you? Sorry no, I dont use them. Hang on, Ill try to get you one, he said, walking into the main room. Anyone got a pen they want to lend Jammy the Tammy, by any chance? Everybody instantly moved their pens out of sight and well away from her, even though she was standing about 30 feet away with a wall between them. Jim jumped up. Ive got one, he said excitedly, rushing towards the door. Every fucking week, said Casino as he pushed by and out into the reception area. Hiya love, you all right? he asked her.
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Yes thanks, she replied, too awkward to make eye contact. Here you go; you can use my pen. Thank you, she said, signing off the replacement bin form. Bye, she said as she walked towards the lifts. Two people waiting, on realising she had a bin full of soiled tampons, walked off and used the fire escape instead. Yeah, bye love, see you next week, said Jim, waving her off. As soon as the doors closed, he turned round, exhaled all the air fully out of his lungs, held the pen to his nostrils and inhaled slowly and deeply as he moved the pen backwards and forwards under his nose. You really are a sick old bastard, arent you? said Casino, watching him. You dont know what youre talking about, said Jim happily, walking back into the main room with a smile on his face. She gets her fingers closer to more flanges than you could ever dream existed. Shes only one step down from a gynaecologist! Sick fuck, said Casino, following him into the main room. Yogi was sitting at a table at the back of the room playing poker with Chris and Malcolm. Casino noticed from his body language that he was losing again. Chris smiled and purposefully placed his cards down victoriously before collecting his winnings yet again. Oh for sucks sake, snapped Yogi, throwing his cards down in anger, a thalidomides got a better hand than me! Oooo, said a voice from another table, thats a bit low, isnt it? What? said Yogi innocently. I dont know why they get so much pity. Its all right for Flids. How do you work that one out? asked Casino. Well, my mum has been on diets for years. And? said Casino, trying to establish his point.
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And, he continued, shes tried everything from Aids chocolates, Slimcea bread and Nimble to PLJ. You name it, nothing! Hasnt lost a pound, still a stone overweight. So? So, it doesnt matter how fat a Flid is, hell always be a stone lighter than anyone else because his arms are missing! Casino sighed deeply in despair then wandered into the kitchen. Anyone got any pound notes they want to sell? asked Jim, pinning a hand written note to the notice board. Ive got a couple I think, said Dani. No, I need at least five so I can give you a five-pound note for them. Yogi read the note on the board: Wanted: 1 notes. See Jim. Whats that all about? he asked as others looked on. Oh, I had a great night on Saturday, fucking magic! Jim replied. Why, what happened? Well, I went down the Marble Arch for a few sherbets as usual, until closing time. As I left I checked my pocket and I had 11 exactly, a tenner and a quid note. So I figured the 10 note will do for a shag and the 1 note for a bag of chips and a can of Coke after. Fucking hell, is this going to be a long story or what? said Yogi sarcastically. Fuck off Im talking, snapped Jim. Anyway, I decided to try the hookers under the railway arches for a change. Youre brave, said Casino, coming back from the kitchen with a mug of coffee, just about catching up with the conversation. I accelerate to 50mph if I have to drive under there when its dark! I know, agreed Jim, but I was pissed up, so I found this little skinny bird and gave her the tenner. We went round the back of the canal and I bent her over the wall and gave her both barrels from behind until Id filled the bitch to overflowing with my man-milk.
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Paints a beautiful picture, doesnt he? said Casino. Look, shut up, this is the best bit, said Jim excitedly. Anyway, I pulled my trolleys up and rode off on my scooter, stopping at the chippy round the corner from our house. When the chips were ready, I pulled out the quid from my pocket to pay but it wasnt a quid, it was the 10 note. It was that fucking dark under the railway arches that I accidentally gave her the 1 note instead of the tenner and she didnt notice, either! Fucking magic, a shag for a quid. Even Casino laughed at the irony of how happy the event had made Jim. So now youre buying 1 notes? No, Im saving them, said Jim. Im never using other notes again. I just need to find a dark pub with a blind landlord now! he laughed. Here Jim, said Yogi, I know a way you can get a couple of pound notes for free. How? asked Jim, half expecting a stupid comment to piss him off. Ill give you a pound note, free of charge, and so will Casino if you lick the Blob chair. The Blob chair was so named after an older saleswoman had once had an accident where she came on her period very suddenly and very heavily without realising. When she did eventually realise, she was so devastated that she just sat there for a couple of hours not knowing what to do, so the blood flowed even more. Eventually she became so distraught that she burst into tears and had to be taken to the toilets by another woman and then was driven home, never to return, as she was so mortified that she couldnt face any of them again. The chair was stashed in a back office to dry out and forgotten about. Several months later, someone came across it and for a laugh, put it back in the main room so that someone would sit on it unaware. Everyone laughed whenever someone sat in the Blob chair and it was still being swapped around when people werent looking in an attempt to get them to sit on it, too. You can fuck off, said Casino. Im having nothing to do with this one.
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Ill give you a quid, too, if you lick it, said Malcolm. Me too, added Chris. And me. And me. Eventually he was being offered 8 in total to lick the chair. He thought for a moment then said, Fuck it, youre on! and walked round the room collecting his 1 notes. When all the money was safely in his pocket, he knelt down on the carpet in front of the heavily dark-stained cloth chair, looked at it, looked up at the waiting crowd, who were standing in absolute silence not believing he would go through with it, then leaned forward and began to slowly lick the cloth where it was stained, up and down, flicking his tongue deeply into the corners, as though he was going down on a clitoris. Oh you dirty, dirty old bastard, said Casino as the rest of the room moaned and groaned in disgust. I thought Yogi was bad but youre just a fucking animal. Tasted quite nice, actually. Its still a bit fresh in the foam, he said, getting to his feet. Not the first time Ive had a mouthful of fanny paint, I can tell you. I once went down on a legless gutter fuck in Thailand for a bet after me and seven others on shore leave from the Navy had paid her for a gangbang in the street, and when I say legless, I mean a double amputee whore that lived in the gutter. Tasting fanny blood mingled with seven flavours of spunk and probably gallons more as they never had a wash--now thats a proper mans challenge! Casino retched then walked out of the front doors, unable to even be in the same building as him. Later that the evening, Casino was inside a house selling from one of Joeys leads. He had already signed up one for Yogi, a good night, but as usual, nothing from Dani. Deciding to start working on his instruction to get rid of her, Yogi had suggested that Joey accompany Casino on a close so he knew what went on. Casino opened the front room curtains to measure up and signal to the car outside that it was a successful pitch. He
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looked out to see the car rocking from side to side as people walked past it. Shit! he thought, closing the curtain so the customer couldnt see it, and quickly made an excuse about getting some paperwork from the car. As he got there, all the windows were steamed up. He walked around to the passenger door and opened it. Yogi was sitting in the seat while Dani, oblivious to his presence, was straddled across his lap and riding him like a maniac. What the fuck? said Casino. Drive her somewhere, for Gods sake; everyone can see you. Its no use, said Yogi, getting bounced on. Its not going to work. I dont think theres an ounce of shame in her body. Shes never going to be humiliated; its just not possible. Youll have to think of something else. Dani, oblivious to their conversation, carried on pumping aggressively with a wild stare on her face. Whats up with her? Oh, I gave her a couple of dabs of that Billy we had on Saturday night. A couple? Jesus, shell be at it all night. Youll have no skin lift on your cock by the time she cums! Tuesday. Dani walked into the office in the same clothes as she was wearing the day before and looking like shit. What happened to you? asked Casino. Oh, I dont know whats wrong with me. When you dropped me off last night, I couldnt relax so I thought Id go for a walk. What, at midnight? Yes. Anyway, I walked and walked and before I knew it, the sun came up and I was in Chorley. Fucking hell, how many miles did you cover? No idea, so I walked back to Bolton and just got on a bus to work. I havent slept or eaten in 24 hours! Yogi laughed. Shes been whizzing all night. Well, youd better be okay for tonight in case we decide to work, said Casino.
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Ill be okay after some food, dont worry. Casino decided not to bother working, so after some food at Hairy Berts, they all went round to Jeans, skinned up a few times and crashed out watching the TV. Dani finally fell asleep on the settee. Casino looked at Yogi. Blowbacks? Blowbacks, agreed Yogi. Kneeling in front of her, Yogi inhaled a mouthful of smoke and slowly blew it an inch from Danis face. A beautiful stream of smoke formed and went straight up her nostril as she inhaled. The act of inhaling cannabis this way, with the added oxygen intake, created a potent combination, which meant that when she woke up she would be so stoned she could barely stand. He continued doing this a couple of times then sat back laughing, waiting to see her state when she came to. This, combined with the lack of sleep and the 15mile walk the night before, meant she was so bolloxed that they had to shake her to wake up. Come on Dani, said Yogi, time for hot-knives. Whats that? she said, trying to open her eyes and sit upright. Youll see, said Casino as Joey cut the bottom off a 2-litre bottle of Coke. Jean stuck the ends of two table knives into the gas fire and left them there to get red-hot while Yogi broke off a small piece of cannabis and told Joey to get ready. Yogi retrieved the knives from the fire and dropped the piece of gear onto the tip of one of the knives while crushing it down with the red-hot tip of the other. The intense heat from the knives instantly disintegrated the dope into smoke, as Casino held the bottomless Coke bottle over it, catching all the smoke as it rose up. Joey put his mouth over the top of the bottle and inhaled as much of the smoke as his lungs could handle, then coughed and spluttered to keep it all inside. After exhaling, his eyes glazed over and he flopped back onto the carpet with a silly grin on his face and vegged. Casino and Yogi laughed at his state. He couldnt have stood up if hed wanted to.
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Okay Dani, your turn, said Yogi, sticking the knives back into the fire. Err I dont think I can, she said, struggling to get up after the blowbacks she didnt know shed had. Of course you can, said Casino, pulling her from the chair, come on, get your mouth round this, and Im not talking about my cock! Jean laughed and broke some gear off for her. Yogi pulled the knives out and dropped the dope onto the knives again. Dani inhaled the lot and sat back slowly, trying to exhale it all back out without retching. She didnt manage and coughed so hard she almost brought up an ovary! I think I need to piss, she said, getting to her feet. Completely battered, she stumbled backwards 10 feet and held onto the kitchen doorframe so she didnt fall back into it. Fucking hell, she shouted in a panic, the house has collapsed. Everybody rolled around the floor, curled up in stitches as she continued to plead with them. Its not fucking funny, Im telling you the house has tipped, I cant stand up. An hour later Casino decided he wanted his pit, so he and Yogi drove Dani home. She slept deeply all the way and when they arrived, she staggered out of the car, threw up and wobbled into her front door. Casino and Yogi laughed as they drove away. Wednesday. Still goosed from the night before, Casino decided he couldnt be arsed working again and would happily take the usual Thursday morning bollocking, then go out and book a double that night. As usual, they all ended up at Jeans. They hadnt intended to stay; in fact, they went round mid-afternoon and ended up having a few joints. Jean said she was cooking a curry so they could all stay and have some. After getting the munchies, they drooled at the smell coming from the kitchen. Hmm, that smells fucking lovely, said Yogi. Yeah? shouted Jean, sieving rice. I dont know why but its very dark this time. I only used the usual spices, though.
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Itll be great, said Casino. Dont worry about it. Jean brought in the five plates of curry & rice and they all devoured it as though they hadnt eaten for a week. Its a bit gritty, isnt it? said Jean, not sure if they were enjoying it. A bit, but its fucking sound, said Yogi. Dont worry about it. I just cant understand why, Jean added. An hour later they were all chilling, stomachs full, heads mellow, watching some shit on the TV. Casino became aware that he felt a bit peculiar. He felt a bit more awake than he had 10 minutes earlier and his ears tingled. He looked over at Yogi, who was also staring around the room with an odd look on his face. Whats up? said Casino. Dont know, he replied. I just feel a bit strange. Me too, said Jean. What the fuck is going on? Ten minutes later Casino felt very heavy and the room started to blur at the edges. What the fuck have you given me? he said as the music from the TV became crystal clear and penetrating. Nothing! said Jean, also feeling very weird. I just made the curry the usual way I do it, a bit of dried coriander, cumin, chili and garam masala. She stood up and wobbled into the kitchen, returning a moment later with the garam masala jar up to her nose. Thats funny, she said, it doesnt smell of anything. And? asked Casino. Well, it normally smells gorgeous. Joey, have you been messing with my spices? Err.err... he mumbled. Clearly he knew something about it. What? said Yogi, staring at him while his hair appeared to glow. I, err, I might have filled it up with dried mushrooms by accident.
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What do you mean mushrooms? asked Casino, totally confused as his concentration span started to diminish rapidly. Well, I...err, I went up to Dovestones a couple of weeks ago and picked a load of magic mushrooms after I heard they were out, then put them on a plate in the airing cupboard to dry out. And? asked Jean, also starting to lose her sense of coherence. Well, after they dried out, I crushed them into powder and looked for something to keep them in. I noticed an empty spice jar by the bin so I used that. What, and you thought youd put it back in the spice rack with all the others? said Jean, unable to get angry, as the room rotated very quickly. I just skinned up and forgot about it, said Joey, flopping back into his chair as he started tripping too. How much did you use? asked Yogi. About five teaspoons worth, one for each of us. Is that a lot of mushrooms? Casino asked Joey. Fuck yeah, he giggled as the ceiling disappeared. Casino looked around the room. He could see the others but he couldnt see the walls. The room was a cylindrical blur and he realised he couldnt remember his own name. He listened to Yogi having a conversation with Dani but couldnt understand a word. One was saying one thing and the other seemed to be answering a completely different sentence. He tried to think where he was but the only things he could remember about his entire life were that he had a red car outside and his boss was called Alan but he had no idea what he did for a living. He knew that some of the days of the week were Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday but that was it; he didnt know what came next or what the others ones were. Oh well, he thought, I guess Ill just have to sit this one out! Those were his last thoughts until he came down just in time for breakfast!
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Thursday. After a shower and a change of clothes he started getting his head back together. I must remember to kick the shit out of that stupid little twat Joey when Ive got the energy! he thought Although it turned out to be a good laugh, but not on a school night! After several coffees in the office Casino took his bollocking for not booking since Monday then pulled Yogi to one side. I dont give a fuck how tired you are, weve got to bag a couple of deals tonight before we go home, okay? Yeah, okay, said Yogi stretching his back. Apart from being tired from no sleep, I feel fine. Its that poor cow Dani thats got problems; shes missed two nights sleep this week already. Look at the state of her. Dani didnt look good. Not because she was tired, she just looked paranoid and was very jumpy. Casino asked her what was wrong but she said nothing. After a slap up at Hairy Berts, they all got back into the car. Right Dani, said Casino, tonights the night, you either book or you fuck, okay? Okay, okay Ill book, she said, still agitated. I think shes losing the plot, said Yogi. Im not surprised with all the drugs shes had in the last few days. Shed never even smoked a joint before the start of this week; now shes smoked joints, had blowbacks, hot-knives and mushies! Lets keep the pressure on her; she might just give up and fuck off. Okay, Yogi agreed. Where are we working tonight, then? Leeds. At 10pm, Casino got back into the car after closing his second deal of the night: one for Yogi and one for Joey, who was starting to make a name for himself as a salesman. Obviously, Dani didnt book a thing! Okay Dani, you were told tonight you had to book or fuck, remember? said Casino, driving into a large housing estate he had worked before. Yes, I remember, she replied, still not her usual self.
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As the houses stopped, the road continued until it came to a dead-end, with grass embankments all around. Casino stopped the car, got out, walked round to the back door and opened it. Right, come on, he said, taking Dani by the hand and leading her up the embankment, over the top and out of sight. A hundred yards later he looked around to make sure it was secluded and told her to lie down on the grass. Hang on, said Dani, pulling off her knickers and putting them into her pocket. I dont want them ruining with grass stains, they were expensive! Five minutes later, after getting nowhere near an orgasm, he stood and pulled up his pants. Come on, this is useless, he said, walking off ahead of her as she tried to pull on her knickers and keep up with him. Yogi saw him coming over the hill and got out of the car to greet him. Well? he asked. No good, Casino replied. It was fucking horrible, all damp and baggy. I told you it was massive, didnt I? You could only fuck her properly if she was on and wearing a couple of tammies, then you might have more chance of touching the fucking sides! said Casino as he got back into the drivers seat. Just then Dani appeared on top of the verge. Come on, my turn, said Yogi, walking up to meet her. We didnt do anything, said Dani, trying to dissuade him. Yeah, right! said Yogi, taking her by the hand and dragging her back into the darkness. After 10 minutes Yogi reappeared shaking his head. Fucking rubbish, he said getting into the passenger seat. Theres no way I could cum inside that! Dani got in the back seat next to Joey. Okay, it looks like blowjobs back at your place, then, said Casino as he pulled away.
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On the way back they pulled into Hartshead Moor Services for a piss. Were not stopping so stay there, Joey, Casino said as he and Yogi got out of the car. No Space Invaders tonight; were going straight to Danis. In the urinals, Casino looked down at his crotch. Look at all the fanny batter shes left on my cock, and I dont remember that black hair being there before. That could be anybodys, said Yogi, Can you imagine how many miles of cock shes had in her lifetime? Hang on, he said, looking down at his own cock, I dont remember that mushroom being there before either! They both laughed then went to wash their hands and cocks. Hang on, wheres my ring? said Yogi, looking around the floor. Casino laughed again. No, Im being serious this time, my rings missing. When did you see it last? asked Casino, drying his hands on the roller towel. When I fingered her in that field just before I fucked her. What did you finger her for? Habit. I like to get them nice and moist before I pile inside, just in case theyre a bit dry. I dont want to damage my banjo string; remember what happened to Clinton? Ooooh, I still have nightmares about that! grimaced Casino. It must have slipped off with all the slime up there. Well, you can kiss that one goodbye. Youd have to send a mining team in there to retrieve it. Thats one fucking big job. Five miles down the M62, as they passed the Huddersfield turnoff, Casino suddenly remembered Joey. Ah bollocks, he said, were going to have to drop Joey in Oldham before we carry on to Bolton. Fuck that, said Yogi. Itll take ages. We wont get home until 3am at this rate. Im still fucked from no sleep last night. Take him with us; hell enjoy a quick gobble, wont you?
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Joey shrugged his shoulders, not bothered either way. Although he hadnt had any sex off Jean in months, after being serviced by a professional, he didnt have many expectations of getting anything worthwhile from a lump like her. Just then Chris Murphy pulled up alongside them on the inside pipping his horn, with Jim, Malcolm and a new lad in the back. Fancy a race back to Manchester? shouted Chris. No, but are you going anywhere near Oldham? Failsworth to drop the newbie off, why? You wouldnt do a quick detour and drop Joey off for me, would you? He only lives a five minutes walk from Hairy Berts. Yeah, no problem, but there arent any service stations between here and Junction 19. Well have to pull off in Halifax so he can swap over. Bollocks to that, said Yogi. Its a load of fucking around. Im tired as it is. Yeah, hes right, agreed Casino. Just pull closer to me and keep at the same speed; well pass him through the back window. You what? said Joey, panicking, with flashbacks of school days in the back of Casinos car. Dont be such a puff, youll be all right, said Casino, attempting to reassure him. It wasnt working! Yogi climbed into the back and wound down the window as Malcolm did the same with his. The noise from the wind was deafening. Do you think we should slow down a bit? shouted Chris. Were doing 75mph as it is. No, keep it as it is, shouted Yogi. If he falls out on the motorway hes going to die, whether were doing 30 or 100! Joey gulped hard and figured that of all the things they had done in the past, this was going to be the way that they finally killed him! Yogi held onto his legs as Malcolm took his arms.
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Go on, get on with it, you girl, said Yogi, trying to encourage him to move. Joeys life flashed before his eyes as he inched forward, feeling the full blast of the speed of the wind as it whistled past him. He was disturbed to find that all his flashbacks were of times with these two bastards. Eating dog shit butties, being dropkicked in the face, pissed up, receiving community service for Yogis OAP mugging, being pissed on. Fuck it, he thought as he quickly scrambled from one car to the other, then sighed with relief, realising he wasnt dead and better still, he wasnt in a car with them anymore. Cheers, Chris, shouted Casino as Yogi wound the window up and climbed back into the front seat. Go on, said Yogi, you might as well race him now. As they continued to pick up speed side by side, Casino in the fast lane and Chris in the middle, they both became aware of something in the slow lane. It was Terry Woods. He had been speeding down the motorway when he saw them side-by-side. Indicating he was ready to take them both on, he continued to accelerate, pulling slightly ahead. Come on, take the cocky bastard, said Yogi as Casino put his foot to the floor. For the next couple of miles there were no cars, so the three identical company cars drove side by side at 95mph. Yogi looked ahead and noticed a HGV in the slow lane half a mile in front of them. Yes, weve got the bastard, he said excitedly. Dont move and hell have to brake. As they got closer, Casino, Yogi, Chris and Jim all looked over to see Terry had not slowed down. Im glad were in this lane, said Yogi. The mans a fucking idiot. Hell probably end up taking Chris out. With 10 seconds to go until impact, Terry still hadnt slowed down. What the fuck? said Casino, looking over at him, noticing the look of panic on Chriss face. Hes playing chicken. Chris is going to brake first.
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With seconds to go, Terry violently steered hard left onto the hard shoulder and round the HGV on its inside. What a fucking lunatic! said Casino as the HGV blasted his horn violently as it disappearing in the rear view mirror. Terry pulled back alongside Chris so the three were back in line again. Within a minute, they started the long steep descent down the Lancashire side of the moors and quickly picked up speed, passing 100mph. They continued to accelerate and Casino looked a mile ahead to see the rear lights of four or five vehicles becoming brighter. As they all hit 115mph, Casino eased off the gas. Fuck this; Im having nothing to do with it. That stupid bastard wont let it go. Hes got a death wish anyway, and Im not getting killed for a fucking idiot like him. Thank fuck for that, said Yogi. My arse was starting to twitch. As Casino eased off, Chris immediately did so too. He was having the same discussion with himself and they both watched as Terry carried on accelerating, disappearing into the distance. Theres nothing big or clever about that, said Casino as he dropped back down to 80mph. A few miles later, Casino realised that Chris was still behind him. Silly bastard, he said, hes missed the turn off. Casino braked and wound the window down. Did you see that fucking maniac? Chris shouted, still shaken. Never mind that, youve missed Joeys turn off. Oh shit, Id forgotten he was there because of that wanker. Shit, I cant go back now; its too far. Casino thought for a moment. Okay, quickly wind your window down and pass him back. Hell have to come with us. You fucking what!?! cried Joey, knowing he had already escaped death twice in the last 10 minutes. I dont want to!
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Shut up, you girl, shouted Yogi as he grabbed his arms and yanked him back. When they got to Danis room, they looked on in amazement at two big fuck-off dildos on the bedside table. Fucking hell, Dani, its not any wonder we couldnt touch the sides. How the fuck do you fit those up your clout? Easily! she replied in the same disturbingly nonchalant tone she had been in for the last 24 hours. She definitely wasnt okay. Right, said Casino as he lay back on the bed, leave it as clean as you found it. The other two stood in the corner of the bedsit watching. Turn the fucking light off, said Casino. I dont want you two puffs watching me; youll put me off! In the darkness there were lots of slurping sounds from the bed and giggling from Yogi and Joey. Eventually Casino got up and switched the light back on. Looks like Im just going to have to have an angry wank when I get home, then! That bad, eh? laughed Yogi as he walked over to the bed, Okay bitch, my turn, he said, getting himself comfortable. You can leave the light on, Im not shy, he said as he whipped out his cock. Casino and Joey fell about laughing as Yogi gave her instruction about how to do it. Okay, make it sloppy with plenty of spittle. I want to see lip-gloss round my bell-end. Harder, harder, suck it you bitch. Now lick my balls. Casino couldnt breathe for laughing. Eventually Yogi also gave up and zipped up his trousers. That was a waste of my concentration. I might as well have covered it in jam and left it out for the flies! Okay Joey, your turn, said Casino as Dani got to her feet. What? she said. Im not doing him as well. You havent managed to do any of us yet, and hes part of the crew, insisted Casino as Joey stood in front of her and dropped his trousers.
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Casino and Yogi laughed at his temerity, wanting it standing up and with the lights on. After a minute of attention, he shot his load, taking Dani by surprise, spraying in her hair and hitting her in the face, covering her eyes. Bulls-eye, shouted Yogi as Casino fell on the floor laughing again. Joey pulled up his trousers and walked across the room with a happy smile on his face. Fucking hell, hes been storing that one for weeks, said Casino. He must have had bollocks like a pair of coconuts. See ya, they said as they walked out of the front door and down the stairs to the car without a thank you. Friday. Both Casino and Yogi were surprised and disappointed to see Dani in the office when they arrived. What did I do to deserve this? said Casino. You know what, I must have fucked some kids in a previous life! Oh bollocks! said Yogi. Were never going to get her to quit. Im starting to think that too, agreed Casino. Well, Ill just have to start the process of sacking her for being shit. After the usual complaints about the size of the cheques, they set off to the casino. This time was different, though. Casino sat back and watched the roulette, not even buying any chips to play with as he went inside. After two hours of observing the wheel, he told the others it was time to go and left. Not like you, said Yogi. Its time I showed you something, said Casino in a very serious tone. Lets get some food and go round to Jeans. On the way he pulled into a petrol station and bought half a dozen boxes of Swan Vesta matches. What are they for? asked Yogi. Youll see.
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Chapter 10 - Dead dogs, hunting pigs and laws of probability

Joey walked into his house with Casino, Yogi and Dani following closely behind. Jean was upstairs sorting out her wardrobe and was surprised to see them so early. Why are you here now? she asked looking slightly uncomfortable. Oh sorry, said Yogi, thats charming. Do you want us to fuck off or something? No, I didnt mean it that way. I was just surprised to see you back so early. So am I. Its Casino. He wants to show us something. What? Youll see, he said, pulling the matchboxes from his jacket pocket. Joey took out an album cover to skin up on. Not yet, said Casino, I need you to watch this too. It involves you both. Where are the kids? asked Joey, noticing how quiet it was. Err, theyre err... at my mums for the night, said Jean, stuttering her words. Casino and Yogi looked at each other. Strange, they both thought in unison, neither saying a word. Casino sat on the rug and tipped all the matches up, then divided them between himself and Yogi. Ever heard about the law of probability? he asked them. Of course, said Yogi. I did A level maths and Physics, remember? So explain it to me so Joey understands. Now youre asking something, said Yogi sarcastically, looking at dopey bollocks. Try, said Casino insistently. Okay. If you toss a coin into the air, it will fall on either heads or tails. This is a random event but if you repeat it many times, the sequence of random events will exhibit patterns, which can be studied and predicted.
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Youre wasted, you know? said Casino, impressed. Dont I fucking know it! replied Yogi. They both turned to look at Joey. He may as well have been speaking Welsh! Is that when you flick a coin and when it lands on your arm it will be different than if it falls on the floor? asked Dani. What the fuck are you talking about, you stupid cow? snapped Casino. Its true, I read it in a magazine once. Look, shut the fuck up and piss off into the kitchen. I dont want you disturbing us. Dani got up, sulked and marched off to the kitchen. Actually Joey, you dont really have to understand this bit, said Casino. Ill tell you what you have to do later; just keep that silly bitch quiet and out of the way. Joey got up and wandered into the kitchen to keep an eye on her. Okay, so applying the theory to a two-sided coin would be the same as applying it to say, two different colours, right? Right. Like red and black. Right, said Yogi, trying to work out where he was going with this. Ah, red and black, like on a roulette wheel? Exactly, said Casino. So if a croupier spins his wheel a hundred times, the law of probability states that it will roughly fall fifty times on a red number and fifty times on a black. Yeah, but its not an exact science so 48 to 52, or 46 to 54. Thats correct, but as close as damn it, agreed? Agreed. Okay, now watch closely, said Casino, handing him one of the piles of matches. You are betting on heads and Im betting on tails. Okay.
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One match represents 1, so before each flick of the coin, we gamble starting with 1 each. They both put down 1 and Casino flicked the coin. Heads. Okay, so I lost 1 but you made 1, so the theory of probability states that the next flick is more likely to land on tails, right? Right. So you stay with the minimum bet of 1 and as there is now more chance of the next flick being tails, Im going to double my previous stake and bet 2 because the odds are now in my favour. Okay. Casino flicked the coin again, another head. Okay, so heres 1 you won and youve still got your original stake. So youve made 2 and Im down 3, yes? Yes. Okay, you put 1 down again and Im going to double my last stake, so this time 4 for me. He flicked the coin again and it was yet another head. Okay so you made another 1 and I lost a further 4, so youre up 3. And Im now down 7. You put in 1 and Ill double my last stake, so thats 8 for me. Kicking your arse at this, said Yogi. Well see, said Casino as he flicked the coin again, and this time it was tails. Okay, so you lost 1 but because of my 8 stake I doubled it, making 16. Thats you up 2 on the night and I am now up 9! But were both winning--get it? Yogi sat back to study what he had just witnessed. It doesnt matter whos winning; we are going to be playing together against the casino and split profits! Cool, eh? Fucking hell, thats genius! said Yogi, stunned at the simplicity of the scheme. Thats fucking amazing. Lets do it again. They continued for an hour, at which point the bank ran out of matches and they had all the money.
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Oh fucking hell, were going to make a million from this! said Yogi, completely converted. Well, if we are cool about it and do some travelling around the country, said Casino. Well, your name is definitely going to fit after this, laughed Yogi. Is it legal? Not that I give a shit if it isnt. Yes, theres nothing illegal about it but all these casinos reserve the right to refuse admittance and can ask you to leave whenever they want you to, so we will have to sit apart and hope the croupier takes a while to spot what were doing. He eventually will and well get banned but not before we take them for a few quid. The problem will be that word will get around about us and all the other casinos will be wary and throw us out as soon as we start winning. Worth a try, though, said Yogi. Oh yes, definitely, said Casino. Well still make a shit-load of cash before we have to stop. Or move abroad and do it there? True, agreed Casino, raising an eyebrow. He hadnt thought of that. Yogi thought hard for a minute. Hang on, why dont we bet 10 at a time to speed it up and make lots more? Ah, this is where we have to be disciplined, said Casino. We can do that but we will need to have thousands of pounds with us to do it. Why? Think about it. What happens if we are betting 10 at a time and by some freak, it comes up heads 16 times on the bounce? Thats 10 doubled to 20, then 40 then 80, etc. By the time I make the sixteenth bet, I will have just lost 163,840 and my next stake will be 327,680! Fucking hell! said Yogi. I never would have even considered that. Of course not, thats why Ive always had to be the voice of reason! Yogi nodded in agreement. Granted, if we were carrying half a million in cash, EACH! And tails came up next. Then we would walk off with just under half a million in profit from one spin of the wheel, but where do we get a million from and what happens if the bouncers roll us and take
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the lot? Most of these places are still owned by gangsters. No, its all about clear heads and discipline. When are we doing it? asked Yogi excitedly. Were starting next Friday, one week today. Weve got to work like fuck all week to get as much cash on payday as possible. Thats our stake. Shit hot, said Yogi jumping up excitedly, lets go out for a mental blast tomorrow night and get completely fucked up, then not a drop until Moet & Chandon after weve taken the fuckers for as much as we can! Agreed, said Casino as they shook hands then hugged each other. Wheres that gear? Lets get bolloxed tonight. Yeah. Joey! Yogi shouted into the kitchen. Build a five skinner; I dont want to be able to feel my arms later! Just then there was a scream from the kitchen. They walked in to find Dani sitting on the kitchen floor with a look of absolute fear on her face as she desperately tried to squeeze her body into the corner of the room. Look, the walls, she cried, theres millions of them! Casino and Yogi looked at the woodchip wallpaper then at each other, confused. What the fuck are you talking about? said Yogi. Ants, millions of ants, crawling all over the walls! They looked again at the badly emulsioned woodchip wallpaper. Dani got to her feet and started screaming again at the carcass of a roasted chicken Jean had pulled from the fridge to make sandwiches with. Look, foxes, theyre trying to bite me! Where the strands of white meat were sticking out after the chicken breasts had been ripped from the bone, Dani saw them as dozens of tiny, perfectly-formed foxes heads, all snapping their jaws at her. They watched her in amazed curiosity as she moved towards the lounge door where Arrow, Jeans cat, was standing. It opened its mouth and roared at her like a lion.
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Ahhhhh! she screamed, running past it into the front room. Suddenly she saw the floor as a huge speaker and as the music came through it, the sound waves blew her hair up. She opened the front door and ran out into the front garden, where huge Triffids tried to wrap themselves around her and crush her to death. She screamed again, then ran off down the street, disappearing out of view as she turned a corner. They all stood on the doorstep watching her. What the fuck was all that about? said Casino. Not got a fucking clue, but it saves us having to drive her back to Bolton, said Yogi. Joey! shouted Jean. He was still sitting in the kitchen skinning up a joint the size of a toilet roll. What did you give her? I just slipped her a tab of acid. You told me to shut her up, so I thought it was worth a try. They all looked round at each other, then back at Joey, still concentrating on building his joint. Nice one, shrugged Yogi, the first compliment he had ever paid him. Monday. Casino walked into the office to be told that there had been a phone call from Dani to say she wouldnt be coming back, as she was having treatment because she might be going mad. Apparently, as she tried to make her way home on Friday night, cars kept snarling and barking at her; consequently, she had a mental breakdown and was sectioned on Saturday. Casino turned to Joey who was staring out of the window. Well done, Joey, thats the first good idea youve had in the 17 years weve known you. Joey didnt acknowledge him. Not so much as a smile. Whats up with you, you miserable twat? asked Yogi. Jeans gone, Joey replied. Gone where? asked Casino. London. When?
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Saturday morning. How long for? For good. Shes left me. Hang on, what are you talking about? Jeans fucked off to London. She got offered a job by one of her old contacts. Shes got clients waiting for her in a posh boudoir club in Knightsbridge, lots of Lords and MPs, apparently, he said with a deep sigh. But she didnt say anything on Friday, said Casino. Yeah, but hang on, we both thought she was up to something when we arrived, remember? added Yogi. Oh yes. But where are the kids? She said they were with her mum. No, she had already put them into care. She said she couldnt do the housewife bit, as it just wasnt her. Good, said Yogi. We dont have to have him around now, do we? It was only as a favour to Jean, anyway. Joey looked up at them with sad puppy eyes. He thought that might be the next thing. No, hang on, hes actually good at the job, said Casino. Hes got little emotions so he doesnt get pissed off when the going gets tough like the others. Hes like a machine; he just keeps on going regardless of the abuse hes given, probably down to all the shit we gave him over the years. Anyway, that aside, we still need him for Friday. What for? As lookout, so we know when theyre on to us and we can leave before they throw us out. Hmm, suppose so, said Yogi reluctantly. Dont worry Joey, you earn good money here; you can easily afford the rent on the house yourself. Joey looked slightly happier but still couldnt manage a smile. Casino came out of the kitchen after making himself a brew. Yogi was sitting with a bunch of the lads recounting tales of their Saturday night out on the piss. Casino got so pissed that he agreed to a game of Hunt the Pig, to see who could cop off with the ugliest bitch
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in the club. Then we decided to make it a competition, so the bet was to see who could shag the oldest woman that night. Nice, said Malcolm. Casino spotted some sad old bag covered in makeup and gold necklaces. She looked like someones grandma from the early 70s. It was fucking horrible. She must have been over sixty. Not wanting to lose to me, he bought her a drink, threw her round the dance floor a few times, then took the old sow into the toilets and fucked her over the shitter. Oh, nice one Casino, that showed him, laughed Malcolm. Casino half-smiled in acknowledgement, but now in the cold light of a sober day, he wished he had spent the night at home. Ah, but it didnt end there, said Yogi proudly. He was all smug and fancied himself as a bit of a love-slug, didnt he, but five minutes after he came back full of himself and asking for his winnings, I took the same old bag into the bogs and fucked her again. What for? asked Malcolm, completely missing the point. Because she was five minutes older than she was when he fucked her. I won the bet. Oh fucking brilliant, said Malcolm as they all roared with laughter. So it was worth his sloppy seconds, then? Yes, but that silly bastard didnt leave it there, did he, said Casino. The fanny-rat only went and took it home. Never? Yep, I sure did, said Yogi proudly. I must have fucked it in every position I could think of. I re-enacted every porn scene from every dirty movie Ive ever watched and thats a fucking lot. In fact, the only thing still intact by morning was her arsehole and that was only because I was too fucked to bother with it! Yogi stood up while the others continued laughing. I need a shit, he said. You are a shit! said Casino, shaking his head. Jim came in late and with a face like thunder.
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Whats up Jim? asked Casino. You look like the wifes left you or something. She has! he replied. Casino wished the ground would open up as he pulled his shoe from out of his mouth. Cheer up, said Yogi, if youre lucky the ugly bitch might not come back. Jim flew at Yogi in rage but Casino stopped him. You, he said pointing to Yogi, fuck off and have that shit. Sorry Jim, what happened? I went out on Saturday afternoon to the Marble Arch for a few beers but when I got back in the early hours of Sunday morning, the house was empty, he said sitting down on a chair, the first one his arse had touched since the pub. She took the fucking lot: chairs, table, bed--everything, even the fridge and washing machine. Where is she? asked Chris. No idea. I cant find her. She must have had this planned for ages. All she left was a note to say the dog was at the vets. Well, it was closed yesterday, so I went down this morning to get him back but when I asked where he was they said he was dead. WHAT! said Casino, shocked, knowing how much he cared about the dog. They said that she came in and asked them to put him down. The bitch has killed my dog!! Fucking hell, said Casino, thats bang out of order. I know, said Jim, now in tears. They said they tried to persuade her not to do it, as he was in beautiful condition, but apparently she insisted, saying that we were emigrating and I couldnt bear the thought of not taking him with me and leaving him with someone else. She knew I loved that dog more than I loved her. She didnt even pay the bill; they just gave me that as I left half an hour ago. So Lassies not coming home this time then? laughed Yogi.
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Jim flew at him again and after a scuffle and exchanging a few punches, they had to be separated, both covered in blood. Thats three yellow things I cant stand, shouted Yogi as Jim was taken out of the room to calm down, mustard, custard and you, you cunt! Casino dragged him into the corner of the room. Right, thats it. Im fucking doing him, snapped Yogi. No youre not, he said, still holding onto him. Weve got other business, REMEMBER? Eventually Yogi calmed down. Okay but Im going to sort him out first, he said, straightening his tie and sitting down. Casino and Chris took Jim for a coffee next door to calm him down. It was suggested that he went home and try to sort his life out first rather than to stay at work. The truth was Chris couldnt bear the thought of a day and night of him sitting in the car being a miserable bastard. Empathy was an alien concept to people in the double glazing trade, even more so in later years when they all moved to Spain and worked selling property! Casino returned an hour later to find Yogi busily cutting out items from all the Sunday papers and magazines that people brought into work on Monday mornings. What are you doing? asked Casino. Cutting out shit, replied Yogi. Obviously, but what for? Im sending loads of crap to that wankers house. Casino read some of the coupons and Freepost addresses on the envelopes that Yogi had roped Joey into writing for him. Coin collection, Royal Doulton Toby mug dont be a twat. His wife has just fucked off and left him after killing his dog. Give him a break, for fucks sake. No! said Yogi, looking up at Casino. Why should I? Can you blame the poor bitch, with what shes had to put up with for 20 years? Actually, no youre right, said Casino thinking about it as he sat down next to him, want a hand?
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They both sniggered as Casino cut out coupons while Yogi picked up the phone and started dialling catalogue companies. By the time they had finished, Yogi had sixteen envelopes to post for Get part one free then pay for the following 26 instalments items, including knitting books, scale model ships, royal family pottery heads and remembrance bone china collections. He had ordered ten other items from Freephone numbers and five different family catalogues, all to be delivered to Jims house. At least the twat will have something to sit on now, laughed Casino as they walked out of the building towards the post office. That night they worked their arses off and booked a double, having a life-changing goal as their incentive for Friday night. Tuesday. In the morning as they came into the office, there was big news that everybody was talking about. Chris Murphy and his team had spent half the night in police cells. Casino and Yogi almost pissed their pants laughing when they heard this. Yogis only regret was that Jim hadnt been there too, as this might have been enough to send the dirty old bastard over the edge and top himself. Never mind, maybe next time, he said. Apparently Chriss newbie opener had only joined the company to use it as a front for house breaking. When they dropped him off on a site he was knocking on doors and if nobody answered, he went round the back, climbed over the gate and broke into the house, nicking small expensive items of jewellery or cash. It turned out he had been doing this for the week he had been working with them. Last night, though, someone had seen him and called the police. They caught him coming out of a kitchen window with pockets full of money and necklaces. He had already done five houses that night! When Chris and Malcolm returned to pick him up, they were also arrested, as the police suspected it was an organised gang. They spent hours pleading their innocence, stating exactly where they had been working since the newbie had been with them. After a few phone calls to other police
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constabularies, it seemed there was a pattern of unsolved burglaries on each of the nights they had been there. By 3am, the police finally believed them and let them go but they had to drive all the way back to Lancaster that day for further questioning. Chris was livid. Casino and Yogi couldnt stand up for laughing. What do you expect? Many glazing salesmen were criminals anyway, so how many of you let one into your home during the early 80s? Missing anything? That night Casino found some new property to knock on. The road was still untarmaced and the majority of the houses were unfinished or empty. Only five couples had moved in. Perfect! Casino always liked to hit these as soon as possible, before anyone else found them, as new householders were so happy at being in their first home that they were usually gullible and easy to sell to. They made a habit of driving around towns looking for the small signs that builders put up on lampposts pointing the direction to new building sites so potential buyers could find them and look at their show houses. If it was a lucrative evening, they would mark it on the map, then go back and cut all the signs down, so no one else could find them, returning night after night until they had completely blitzed every house. They booked another double Tuesday night too. Wednesday. Jim was back in the office. Yogi was warned to stay away from him and just to make sure, Casino dragged him off to an office and attempted to keep him amused there. Pass me a newspaper, said Casino. Opening the back pages he looked down the list of lumpy trouser lines for sad old perverts to talk to supposedly hot young ass for 10p a minute. In reality it was a bunch of fat old stretch-marked slappers doing their knitting. Ring, ring. Hello, Madam Sharon speaking. Do you want to speak to a mistress or a dominatrix? Oh, definitely a dominatrix, please, said Casino as Yogi sat up attentively to listen to him.
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Helloooooo and what is your name? Billy big balls. How big is your gash? Click. Yogi laughed and got a couple of coffees, ready for the next phone call. Ring, ring. Hello naughty boy. Hello. I bet youre horny and hard, arent you? All the time Im breathing, yes. So what have you phoned to tell me? Ive phoned you to tell you I need a right good shit and my farts stink of cabbage. Click. Ring, ring. Hello, tell me your naughty thoughts line, what can I do for you? Can you talk me through a wank? Okay, have you got it in your hand, big boy? No, but my five year old daughter has it ready in her mouth if that helps! Click. Ring, ring. Hello, your wish is my command submission line, how can I help you? I want you to go down on me. Okay, Im going down, Im going down, Im going down Click. Bitch, she put the phone down on me. Shes having it! Ring, ring. Hello, your wish is my command submission line, how can I help you? Okay then, if you wont go down on me, just talk me through a shit! Look, will you just fuck off and bother someone else? Ive worked here for two years and in all that time Ive only
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had to put the phone down on three people and twice its been on you! Click. That evening, Yogi came out of a house with a lead, very excited. Whats up with you? asked Casino. Oh my God, wait till you see the bird in that house; shes fucking gorgeous! he said, handing over the details. Casino quickly read through them and spotted the obvious. Single woman, eh? Yeah and you should see the tits on it. You didnt try it on or anything, did you? Im not going to get a mouthful when I knock on the door? No, no, shes a posh tart, I wouldnt even get a sniff at her sort but I almost creamed my jeans when she bent over and flashed her little white lace panties. I might need a cheeky wank later. Yeah, well wait till Im not here then, eh? Casino went to knock at the door. Yogi was right, she was as fit as he had said, very posh accent but after initial chatting, he realised she was quite down to earth and definitely a bit flirty. Two hours later, she had agreed to purchase and filled in the finance documents. As he began to measure up her windows she went into the kitchen and brought back a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Are you going to help me celebrate then, kind sir? she asked. Okay, said Casino, finishing off, but just a small one. Im driving. Funny, you didnt strike me as a small one sort of guy! she giggled. Oh, she definitely wants it, thought Casino. Would it be okay for me to have a shower? Ive been sitting in these clothes all day. he said, testing her. Ill draw you a bath; it will be far more relaxing. Yes, Im definitely in here, he thought. I wont be a minute. Ive just got to get something from the car, he said as she purposely wiggled her arse up the stairs to run the bath. Right, said Casino as he opened
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the car door. Im in here. You take Joey home and come back about 10ish tomorrow morning and pick me up. You bastard! snapped Yogi. I fucking saw her first! Yes, but Im not embarrassed about my background so I never let it get in the way! Twat, she only wants you for a bit of rough for a change, said Yogi, slightly sulking. Yeah, I know and believe me, shes going to get it a bit rough too, laughed Casino as he closed the car door and turned to walk back into the house. Yogi wound the window down. Dont do anything I wouldnt! What, like stick things up her arse? No, dont worry, I wont. They both laughed as Yogi started the engine then drove away. Casino walked back into the house to find the lights dimmed and clothes left on the staircase. He followed them up to the bathroom, lit only with candles, where the bath was still running. She walked into the room wearing a fur coat then seductively let it slip from her shoulders, revealing her perfect naked body. Fuck! exhaled Casino in an involuntary breath. Yes, please! she said cheekily. Thursday. After a breakfast of fresh fruit juice, toast and marmalade, Yogi arrived to collect him. Casino waved goodbye and flopped into the passenger seat in silent euphoria. Well? said Yogi. Lets hear all the details, then. A gentleman never tells, said Casino with a big smile on his face. Gentleman, you? Fuck off, since when? All you need to know is she was a sex goddess with the most amazing body Ive ever seen. Bastard! said Yogi, wishing he had jumped in there first. So what, now youre in love or something?
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Dont be a twat, said Casino, sitting up into his normal posture. That was just the best sales consolidation ever. Are you seeing her again, then? Yep, Im going back for the next few nights to give her a good fucking until the cheque clears. Thats my boy, laughed Yogi.
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Chapter 11 - Roulette, UFOs and Dovestone

Friday 29 June 1984. Casino woke early, had breakfast and showered. This was the day. He had a feeling in his bones that after today nothing was ever going to be the same again. How right he was. Within 24 hours, one of them would be rich, one would be dead and the other would be on his way to a galaxy far, far away! Got to stay sharp today, he thought. Nothing unhealthy. I need a clear head, no drink and no fags until tonight. There was a knock at the door. He was both surprised and amazed to see it was Yogi, already suited and booted. He had had the same thoughts as Casino and wanted to make sure he did nothing stupid to fuck the afternoon up for them. They ran through the plan again and again to make sure there was nothing they had overlooked. Yogi had woken up during the night panicking about the green 0 on the Roulette wheel. Casino had already taken this into consideration and decided that it would definitely come up at some point and when it did, it could cost them quite a few pounds if they were on a roll of either pure heads or pure tails, but there was nothing they could do about it, so when it did occur they would just ignore it and place the last bets again as if it never happened. This wouldnt make a difference to the probability, anyway. Casino had just made another coffee when there was yet another knock at the door. It was Joey. Fucking hell, we are all up for this, arent we? he said, letting him in. Nothing else to live for now, have I? said Joey. Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself, you miserable little twat, said Yogi, feeling no empathy for him whatsoever. Leave him, said Casino. We need him alert or we could lose everything. Just remember Joey, you play the onearm-bandit right next to the entrance where the floor manager stands. If anyone suspects us, he will be the first one they speak to before challenging us. After every roll, Ill look up at
th
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you; if all is well, you nod once, if theyre on to us, you shake your head and leave immediately, got it? Yes, got it. Good, now lets go to Hairy Berts for an early lunch before we go into the office for our wages. They were all quiet in Berts, hardly saying a word to each other. At the office it was noticed how sedate they were by comparison to their usual selves. Whats up with you lot? asked Malcolm. Fallen out with each other? Joey walked into the other room, Casino ignored him and Yogi just stuck two fingers up at him and sat down to stare out of the window down Deansgate in the direction of Victoria train station. As soon as they got their wages, they left without a word. After filling up the car with fuel on the company account at the petrol station in Longsight, they visited Mr Biyani at his off-licence and sold him their cheques for cash. With pockets full of money, they were now ready to go. They drove over to Cheetham Hill and parked on the street down the side of the building. Casino walked in first, said hello to the doormen and ushers then signed himself and the other two in. Joey went straight to his machine by the entrance and started playing. Yogi played a few hands of Pontoon while Casino went straight to his favourite seat at the Roulette table. After ten minutes Yogi, as previously planned, sat on the opposite side to Casino and they began to play, Casino on blacks, Yogi the reds. After a very short time, they were both up several pounds. Casino kept an eye on Joey, who calmly nodded after each spin, and Yogi interacted with others at the table in an attempt to blend in. Luckily, the table was completely full of players, so the croupier had more to think about than just them. All three refused the offer of the free glasses of milk and ham sandwiches with the crusts removed, as they had previously discussed this and after all going for a big piss
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when they first arrived, they didnt want anything to make them want to go again, or the game would be ruined. Half an hour later, Yogi started to get excited as both his and Casinos piles of chips grew. He couldnt see the point of doing this all day if by just upping the stakes every now and then they could give their winnings a massive boost. Black had come up four times in a row, so this time instead of placing the agreed bet of 16, he threw down 50. Casino saw this and if looks could have killed! Red came up so Yogi got back 100 instead of the 32 he would have received. He looked at Casino and smiled. This was also against the agreed rules, no form of contact. Casino looked down and prayed this was a one-off predictably unpredictable example of Yogi being Yogi. A few minutes later, he started betting heavy again. Casino considered aborting and getting him outside by the throat but decided to see how it transpired. Just then, Joey, still pumping 50p pieces into the onearmed bandit, did something they hadnt accounted for: he won the 5,000 jackpot! There were bells, music and five minutes of the sound of the machine spewing out 50p pieces into the tray below. This was a rare occurrence and the management made a big fuss over him, getting an usher to collect all his money in a big bucket and convert it into notes at the cashiers desk, while he was led off for a celebratory drink on the house. He had no choice in the matter and was out of the action. Casino couldnt believe his luck. It was all going wrong. He decided to stick it out for as long as Yogi had chips but threw him a dirty look to try to bring him down to earth. Yogi pulled a face back at him to imply he was worrying over nothing. The Croupier had been observing them for the last few spins and had signalled to the Pit Boss to watch them. The Pit Boss had seen enough and worked out what they were doing. He walked over to the floor manager next to where Joey was supposed to be and advised him of what he had observed. A while later, the manager called security over and it was decided to quietly ask them to accompany him into the back office. Casino, still concentrating on what Yogi was
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placing on the table, had missed all this and it wasnt until he was tapped on the shoulder at the same time as Yogi that he realised they had been rumbled. It was over! Casino collected his chips and quietly stood up to be led away. Yogi couldnt believe this stream of free money was about to dry up. Like a toddler being told it was time for bed when it wasnt tired, he spat his dummy out and refused to accept it. No, fuck off Im still playing! he said loudly, as customers turned to look. Sir, will you please calm down and follow me so I can speak with you? said the Pit Boss. Ive just told you to fuck off once, now youre really starting to grit my shit, he said rising to his feet and working himself up with frustration. Do yourself a big favour and take your fat arse out of my sight or Ill fucking bury you! This was enough. The doormen restrained him and lifted him off the floor, carrying him in the direction of the fire exit that led to the rear corridor offices and back doors to the building. Casino had already walked through them and was in discussion with the floor manager. Yogi continued to shout at the security men, then caught a glimpse of Joey drinking a glass of champagne by the bar. Yogi saw red. You, you useless cunt, he shouted. Its all your fault, youre supposed to be keeping a lookout. Joey gulped hard on his bubbly and looked around. He was grabbed and also assisted towards the fire doors. In the rear cash office, the manager asked them what they had been doing. Now that the other customers werent present, four doormen pinned Yogi down on the floor in an aggressive manner. Look, said Casino defiantly, weve done nothing illegal so call the police if you want to. Theres fuck all you can do about it, so if youre going to give us a kicking, get on with it. I know youll win but Im warning you now, well make sure we come in a good second place. Then he held his fists up, ready for the onslaught. Joey gulped and felt diarrhoea start to seep into his trousers.
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There wont be any violence unless you start it, said the manager, and you are correct, there is nothing legally we can do about it, but we can expel you from the club. Okay, said Casino, still in fighting stance just in case he was lying. And from this day on you are banned from this club; your membership is revoked. Fair enough. And we are keeping all your chips, as they are the property of this club, including the ones you bought when you came in. Bastard! shouted Casino as he was grabbed by two of the doormen. Thats our fucking money, you slimy little twat! Not anymore, said the manager as the three of them were dragged down the corridor towards the rear exit. Consider it a lesson not to mess with this, or any other casino again. Now fuck off before I change my mind and let them give you the pasting of a lifetime! You little bastard, shouted Yogi, you cant hide behind these gorillas forever. I swear Ill fucking do you! As they reached the rear security exit, one of the doormen unlocked it but just as he was about to pull it open, it crashed inward, hitting him in the face and knocking him unconscious. Suddenly four masked men ran in with sawn-off shotguns. Two of the doormen were knocked senseless in the face with the butt of a shotgun, while the other was grabbed and manhandled back up the corridor towards the cash room where they had just come from. Who the fuck are you? said one of the armed robbers pointing his sawn-off at Casino. Nobody, were nobodies, he said with his hands in the air. What the fuck are you doing here? said another robber nervously. Were just a bunch of cunts getting thrown out onto the street, thats all, said Yogi, also standing with his hands up. Joey was already face-down on the floor, letting a little more diarrhoea loose.
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What were you getting thrown out for? For getting caught trying to cheat at roulette, thats all; were nothing to do with this place, insisted Casino nervously. Okay then, do like your mate and hit the floor, facedown, and dont fucking move till weve gone. Dont worry, we arent moving a fucking inch, said Casino for the benefit of Yogi as much as an assurance to the armed robbers. They lay on the ground with one robber standing over them as the other three went into the office carrying sports bags. After a couple of minutes, one of them came rushing down the corridor with two of the bags bulging with cash. He dropped them on the ground next to the exit then ran back to get some more. A fifth man came in from outside, grabbed the bags and dashed out to their waiting van, throwing them inside, then dashed back as the next two bags were brought down. As he came back from the van for a second time, they all froze in fear as the sound of a discharged gunshot echoed deafeningly down the corridor. Dont you fucking move, you three; stay the fuck there, shouted one of the robbers, as they ran down the corridor to see what was happening. Oh fuck, were all dead now, said Yogi, shaking. Casino said nothing. Joey, on hearing these words and still in shock at the sound of the gunshot, suddenly panicked, stood up and ran faster than he had ever managed, out of the door and into the street. Joey, NO! shouted Casino, half-expecting to hear he had been shot by somebody waiting outside, but nothing happened. Casino looked at Yogi for a moment, still face-down. They had been best friends for 17 years, since they first met at infant school in 1967 when they were four years old. They knew each other backwards; they knew each others thoughts. The telepathy between them was often spooky and had worked on more occasions than they cared to remember. It was there again as they stared into each others eyes.
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Without a single word, they both synchronically and unhesitatingly jumped to their feet and sprinted out of the door and into the street. Outside, Casino paused for a couple of seconds to allow his eyes to adjust to the bright sunshine and to work out exactly where they were. In front of the exit doors was the robbers van with its rear doors still open, Casino looked around to see that his car was parked two back from the van. He dashed to it, hurriedly took the keys from his pocket, unlocked the door and jumped inside, slamming the door behind him. He reached over to unlock the passenger door for Yogi, then put the key into the ignition and started the engine. The passenger door didnt open. He looked around but Yogi wasnt there. What the fuck, he said as he looked up and down the street. Finally he spotted him leaning into the back of the van. Fuck no! said Casino in fear. What the fuck is he doing? Yogi turned and ran up to the car door, opened it and jumped inside. Quick drive, DRIVE! he shouted with one of the money-filled sports bags on his knee. You fucking idiot! screamed Casino. Throw it out quick, before someone sees you. Just fucking drive before they shoot us, you twat! snapped Yogi. Casino pulled out, wheels screeching as they spun on the warm tarmac. As he reached the junction with Cheetham Hill Road, he didnt even stop to see if it was clear to go and just swung a left, heading away from the town centre. Within seconds he was overtaking cars at 50mph. Slow down or the police will notice us, said Yogi, calm and calculated. I dont fucking believe you! snapped Casino as he eased off the accelerator. Why the fuck did you do that? Theyve got cameras everywhere, theyll know we took it, and its probably a murder scene by now. No they wont! How the fuck can you say that?
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Because when we came out and stopped to look for the car, I turned round to see if we were being chased and noticed that the camera above the back doors had been spray painted black. So? Theyve got them on the walls too. I know; theres one at both ends of the building and they were painted black too. No one saw what happened outside. I was just about to catch you up when I realised I was standing about six feet away from bags full of money, so I looked back towards the doors and no one was coming. I couldnt help myself, so I grabbed one. Dickhead. You stupid, fucking DICKHEAD! snapped Casino. Were going to get fucked over for this, I just know it. Yogi looked forward towards the pavement on his side of the car. Fucking hell, look. It was Joey, still running at an Olympic sprint speed. How the fuck did he get this far in that time? Were almost at Queens Road! Casino pulled over and Yogi reached back to unlock the rear door. Joey ran straight past them with blinkered vision. He was in shock and couldnt have stopped running if he had wanted to. Oi, bollock brain, STOP! shouted Yogi as Casino drove alongside Joey, driving at the same speed as he was running. Stop panicking. Were safe, get in. Joey stopped running, bent over to get some air and threw up on the pavement. Thirty seconds later they were all in the car and turning right into Queens Road. Casino drove on autopilot, having no plan of action and absolutely no idea where he was going. Twenty minutes later, just like so many times in his life, he found himself at his happy place. He stopped the car, pulled on the handbrake, turned the engine off and opened the window for some fresh air. He was parked at the edge of the water at Dovestone reservoir, 15 miles from Manchester. He had been coming here for as long as he could remember. At the age of 11, he and Yogi would catch the bus for the five-mile journey and spend hours climbing up Indian Head, the image created by the landscape at the edge of the
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moors, before it disappeared for miles and miles of wilderness. He had been outrageously drunk here as a young teenager; a few years later, he had sat in its beauty and tranquillity writing songs. Later, he had made love here to the first love of his life, which was to stay with him forever. No matter where he was spiritually, as well as physically, the moors, in particular Dovestone, were always with him and he with them. Tainted only by Brady and Hindley, who had buried their victims within sight of the very spot he was parked up, two of their victims still missing somewhere nearby. This was his happy place, his thinking place and the place that one day he intended his ashes to be set free to blow his spirit around the vast openness of its serenity for eternity. Anyway, no time for this puffy bollocks now, well be chasing butterflies next! They all sat in silence, looking out across the water as it expanded in front of them, disappearing in the distance as it weaved to the right into a valley. Eventually the silence was shattered by one of Yogis more expressive expletives as he opened up the sports bag. Fuck me stiff with a yard brush! he exclaimed. The bag was packed full of used notes. There must have been a few hundred grand in there. Jesus! said Casino. They sat staring at it for over an hour and discussed their next steps. By 10pm they were still arguing about what to do with it. Casino was trying to reason that this amount of money just doesnt get forgotten about, whereas Yogi, the green-eyed monster, was not for letting it leave his palms, regardless of the risks involved in holding onto it. They had been listening to the news bulletins every half hour on Piccadilly Radio, who were reporting: Police are still searching after a casino in the Cheetham Hill area of Manchester was today held up at gunpoint by a gang of five masked men armed with sawn-off shotguns. No one was badly injured during the raid but the perpetrators escaped with an estimated 1.2 million pounds in used bank notes. Police are asking that witnesses come
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forward as they might have information that could assist them in the apprehension of the criminals. Thats us theyre talking about, said Casino. Is it, bollocks? said Yogi, still counting the money. Look, we signed in but we didnt sign out and they know we were in the corridor when the raid began. Doesnt prove anything. While the gangsters are free, nobody knows weve got this cash, Yogi insisted. Ok, if we do get caught, as long as we stash this somewhere safely first, we can say we just ran away shitting ourselves and saw nothing, but only if they catch us; were not volunteering anything otherwise. We dont want them to catch the robbers because while they are free, the feds have no idea weve got this. Casino thought for a minute. He also didnt want to get involved with helping the police catch a bunch of guntoting maniacs, just in case they later sought revenge on them, but he knew that the police had their names and descriptions, so they couldnt go home. It was a simple choice of going to the police and handing themselves in as innocent witnesses, or going on the run for a couple of years until either the robbers were caught and convicted, case closed, no further witnesses needed, or it blew over as an unsolved case. Hang on a minute, said Casino, suddenly having a light bulb moment. How the fuck did they know we were getting thrown out of the casino just then, at that very moment? What do you mean? said Yogi, still counting the money. How did the robbers know to be standing at that back exit door with masks on at that very moment? Yogi looked up and thought about the question. The dirty, dirty bastards! he said angrily, It was an inside job. Exactly, said Casino. It must have been that fucking manager. He purposely wound us up, knowing wed kick off so all the bouncers were in that corridor at same time. Us getting caught blagging them on the roulette table at that particular moment must have made it easier for them than
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they had planned. I thought we were doing well for so long without them noticing. He must have seen us but let it go for an hour, until the time he knew he had to get those back doors opened. Bastard, he used us, said Yogi. If it hadnt been us, he must have had another plan to let them in the back way. We made the job a piece of piss for them! Pager, said Joey, the first word he was calm enough to speak in almost six hours. What? asked Yogi. Pager, he could have used a pager to tell them when to be standing outside the door with their masks on. Fuck me, hes right, agreed Yogi. While they had been talking, Casino had subconsciously noticed three lights on the far side of the reservoir in a triangular formation, two above the other, like an upturned pyramid. The sky was pitch black with no moon. He had subconsciously figured it must have been lighting on the top of scaffolding to warn low flying private aeroplanes. It wasnt until a while later that he remembered even thinking this. As they sat in silence, he realised that where those lights were, there was only the water of the reservoir below them and they were in a valley miles from any planes. Odd, he thought half-heartedly but unconcerned. Joey opened the rear door. Where are you going? asked Yogi. For a piss, Joey replied then closed the door, putting the interior of the car back into darkness. Casinos unconscious thoughts were turned into conscious reality as he suddenly became aware that the three lights had disappeared. Thats funny, he unintentionally said out loud. What is? asked Yogi. Did you notice three lights over the other side of the reservoir a bit earlier?
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Yogi was about to answer when they both noticed something moving around the outline of the reservoir to their right. What the fucks that? said Yogi, looking at a white round light that seemed to be hovering a foot above the surface of the water and travelling quickly. Casino had already seen it and his brain was trying desperately to process what his eyes were observing. It gave the appearance of a lantern hanging from the front of a rowing boat but it was travelling too fast and in the reflection of the reservoir, it was clear there was nothing beneath it nor anywhere near it, and it moved in complete silence. There was literally a sphere of white light floating just above the surface of the water, travelling at speed around the outside of the reservoir that would very shortly swing round towards them. I dont understand, said Yogi, open-mouthed. I dont like this, said Casino starting to panic. Fuck it, were out of here. He quickly started the engine and put the car into neutral. A bright white light lit directly behind their heads and they both screamed like a pair of bitches and climbed up the windscreen using their fingernails. It was the light from the rear of his reversing lights shining into the boot. Casino had pulled out the parcel shelf the week before after locking his car keys in the boot and hadnt got round to putting it back. The pitch-black night and the lack of streetlights had made it shine more brightly than usual. Ahhhhh! they said breathing heavy sighs of relief, before remembering the sphere of light on the water and starting to panic again. Casino screeched backwards as fast as the car could reverse. He had no idea what was behind and didnt care; he was more concerned with what was in front of him! He threw it into first and sped off along the winding road past the car park and down the hill towards the Holmfirth road. They had both completely forgotten about Joey.
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Joey stood pissing against a fence post, watching them speed off. He couldnt believe that they were doing this to him again, especially after the day they had all just had. He finished off, zipped up his trousers and stood in the blackness alone. Suddenly he could see the outline of the reservoir wall getting brighter and brighter, then the grass and water lit up like it was daytime. He turned to see what was causing it, to find himself face to face with a brightly glowing sphere rising from the edge of the water, growing in size as it rose up to tower over him. He stared at it in awe as it continued to swell in size then stopped about twenty feet directly above him. It exploded in a blinding flash of piercing light as Joey lost consciousness. Oh fuck, we forgot Joey! said Casino as he flew through Greenfield at speeds that made it a blur. Fuck Joey, just keep your foot down, said Yogi, still panic-stricken. Casino drove at 70mph in fear for five miles, until he got back into Oldham town centre. He hadnt bothered with traffic lights or junctions; he just knew he had to put as much distance between them and whatever it was that was up there on the moors. He became aware of a flashing light in his rear view mirror but it wasnt white, it was blue. A police light! Casino snapped out of his trance and slowed down until he stopped on the side of the road. Shit, he said, completely unaware of what speed he had been travelling at. A shorter than usual police officer stopped behind him and walked towards his window. Who the fuck dya think you are, James Hunt? he said sarcastically. Get out of the car. Casino did as he was told and looked up at the moors in the distance to make sure he wasnt being followed. He was just happy to be safely away from whatever it was he had left behind. The police officer looked in at Yogi, who was still staring out of the windscreen in silence, confused about what he had witnessed. Whats in the bag, sonny? he said, flashing his torch through the back window at the bag full of cash.
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Sonny? said Casino, towering the best part of a foot over him and probably the same age, then he remembered what actually was in the bag. Oh err, just books. What kind of books? Textbooks. Im at Uni and theyre just textbooks, he said, hoping he would just give him a ticket and let them go. Lets have a look inside, then, he continued. What for? asked Casino, starting to sweat. Because I said so, thats why! You sound like my fucking mother, said Yogi from the passenger seat, realising that they were in big shit if he opened the bag. What did you say? he said, leaning into the car and glaring at him. I said you look like I fucked your mother, said Yogi. The officer stood straight and started to march around the back of the car to get to Yogi on the other side. Quick, get in! Yogi shouted as he pressed both the door release buttons down on his side of the car. Casino jumped in, started the engine and set off, with his accelerator flat down. They flew down the by-pass and onto Manchester Street at full speed. The officer radioed in to his control room, giving descriptions of the car and the occupants, asking for assistance. A moment later a call came back. The two descriptions you have given of the suspects and the car are of persons being sought by Greater Manchester Police in connection with an armed robbery at a casino this afternoon. Fuck me! said the copper. Are they armed, then? They may be, so proceed with caution. There is backup on its way. Casino saw flashing lights in the distance before him so veered violently to the left, through the locked gates of Werneth Park, smashing them and his windscreen. He continued through the park before slamming on the brakes and grinding to a sliding halt in the middle of the bowling green.
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Ive always wanted to do a handbrake turn on that green since we were kids, said Yogi, but thats fucked the grass up much better! They jumped out of the car, Casino grabbing the bag on his way, and jumped over the bushes into the woods that Parkie the Park Keeper used to chase them out of when they were children. The police officer stopped his car outside the park and radioed back where they had gone. Within minutes, there were police blocks on all the surrounding streets, watching the various buildings that were within the cordon. Casino and Yogi jumped a few walls and fences then broke into the back of an old building through a window. Unsure of where they were in the darkness, they lay on the floor panting and listening to the sirens in the distance. The police decided that as it was pitch black and they may be armed, it was logical to wait until the morning, when they would have better vision in the daylight. After an hour of lying still, both Casino and Yogi fell asleep with exhaustion as the adrenalin wore off.
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Chapter 12 - Convents, anal probes and Profumo affairs

Casino opened his eyes to see daylight shining from an old sash window across the wooden floor in front of him. Yogi was still asleep, snoring. He sat up and realised they were inside a school. After a minute of trying to work out which way they had come the night before, he finally figured out that they must be inside the convent school. There was a noise coming from the front of the building and he knelt to see what it was. It was schoolgirls arriving for Saturday morning classes. Casino woke Yogi and they watched as more and more girls arrived. What the fuck are they doing letting them in if they are trying to find us? said Yogi. I dont know, Casino said. The silly bastards clearly think were still in the park or Woodfield mental house next door. Then we can get out of the front of this place and take off cant we? I guess so, but how do we get past these lot without them kicking off? Casino looked out of the back window where there was the distant flashing of blue lights. Maybe were better going back into the park and trying to find a way out by the old folk homes that back onto it. Yogis face turned white, then instantly hardened. Im not going back to jail, okay? Ill fucking shoot my way out of here if I have to. Do you hear me? he snapped. With what? asked Casino. Going to make a gun now, are you? Casino noticed a look in Yogis eyes that he hadnt seen since he lost the plot and knocked out his boss, then stole the bus to take him to Blackpool. He started worrying, as Yogi looked very weird and he really didnt need him volatile at a time like this. Yogi jumped up and ran down the hall to the front window to see if the coast was clear. All of a sudden Casino heard a scream, as a young girl walked into the room in which he was standing. Yogi ran forward and grabbed her, putting
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his hand over her mouth in an attempt to make her silent. Too late: another scream, then another. One of the nuns arrived and challenged him to let go of the girl, while another telephoned the police. Yogi punched the first nun in the face, knocking her spark out on the wooden floor. Fuck! thought Casino as he jumped through the window they had come in through, still holding the bag. He quickly climbed a few walls and eventually dropped back into the thickets of the wooded area of the park, as police cars rushed around, making their way to the front of the school. During the night, news of the possible capture of the casino robbers had made its way around the news agencies and by 8am there were several reporters and a television crew outside the park. Hearing and seeing the police commotion, they worked their way around to the front of the convent and started reporting back to their newsrooms via despatch riders and public telephones, while the TV crew started broadcasting live. Yogi by now had thrown the nuns out, locked the doors and moved the girls into one room on the first floor overlooking the front garden. Clinton was sitting in front of his TV eating a bowl of Rice Krispies with his leg in plaster. He hadnt seen much of Casino or Yogi for several months but had still managed to be stupid enough to break bones without their influence. John was injecting steroids in his quest to become a bodybuilding champion and was also watching his TV when the program was interrupted by a news flash. ! We are interrupting the scheduled program to bring you some breaking news. We are reporting live from outside a convent school in Oldham, where a siege is taking place and two men suspected of being armed are holding girls hostage after being chased there by police investigating a cash robbery yesterday from a casino in the centre of Manchester. Youve joined us at a critical stage, as police marksmen are moving into position on various buildings surrounding the school. A few moments ago, Chief Inspector Weems, holding a megaphone, demanded that the men throw out any weapons, release the girls immediately and give themselves
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up. To which one of the men replied, Go and suck on a donkeys arsehole, you butt-ugly pig bastard! I have with me now Chief inspector Weems. Inspector-- Chief Inspector, sonny! Sorry, Chief Inspector, what is the current situation? Well, its a bit of a bummer really; the building is well surrounded by trees and the nearest building my marksmen are on is over 400 yards away. But that shouldnt be a problem, should it? I mean, your men are trained to shoot the balls off a fly at 100 yards, arent they? Yes, but shooting the balls off a pervert a 400 yards is a different thing entirely, son! Oh I see, so what are you going to do about it, then? Well, we figure that the best course of action is probably to starve the bastards out and when theyre weak and defenceless, well jump them from behind, stamp on their heads and kick the shit out of them. But, you cant do that. Why not? The greater Manchester police have been using such tactics on defenceless members of the public for years--with great success, I might add. But you know the media arent allowed to show police brutality anymore; our bosses have an agreement with yours. Oh yes, I was forgetting. Okay then, well wait until we get them into the back of the meat wagon before battering them! Wait a minute, there seems to be some sort of movement outside the window by the flagpole above the entrance to the school. Something seems to be being hoisted up but I cant quite make out what it is. Can we possibly zoom in with the camera? Yes thats better, it seems to be... Yes, yes... Its a pair of little girls panties and Im afraid to say it looks like they have blood spots on them.
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Well inspector, lets hope thats her first period and not a result of rough botty love, or weve also got a couple of paedophile rapists on our hands too. Bastards! replied the chief inspector. Hold on, Ive just been passed a piece of paper with something written on it, apparently they have just released a hostage and it says that she is so bow-legged that she couldnt stop a pig in a ginnel. Hang on, is this Brian the cameraman playing practical jokes again? The camera nodded up and down a couple of times. Brian, you really are a devil, arent you? The camera nodded up and down again as they all laughed. Just then there was a loud buzzing sound, followed by crackles and whistles that echoed around the grounds. Yogi had discovered the schools Public Address system. After a mid-range hum as he adjusted the volume, singing could be heard around the adjoining neighbourhood as Yogi sang a chorus of Thank heavens for little girls over the airwaves in a Goon-esque voice. Okay, now you can hear me. If you dont meet my demands, then every hour Im going to start shagging these girls one by one until you do and throw their violated bodies into the street. I havent got any demands just yet but Ill think of some. Thanks! The gathered crowd went wild with anger. Fuck me, its Yogi! said Clinton and John in unison, although two miles apart. They both turned up their TV sets and sat glued to the box. Chief Inspector Weems barked out his demands to Yogi over his megaphone. Yogi replied with his much louder PA system, So how long exactly have you been Chief Inspector then, two weeks? Not at all, replied CI Weems. Actually about six months now. And what were you before that? I joined the police two years ago and worked my way up.
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Two and a half years--isnt that a bit quick for a talking arsehole to make CI? No, not at all, I went to university for four years prior to that and I was fast-tracked through the ranks. Anyone that comes into the police force with a degree doesnt have to waste time with silly stuff like walking the beat. Its all done by intelligence these days. Oh yeah? So what was your degree in? Sports Instruction. Thought so. Say no more, twat! Hold on sir, a call has just come in regarding the identity of the rapist. Who is he? Someone called Timpson the Bastard; apparently he used to be his school teacher a few years back. Not him, the rapist! Oh, apparently hes called Yogi. We have a car on its way back from his house as we speak. They have something important to show us that they found stashed in his attic. Good, I hope they searched the property thoroughly. Yes sir, they kicked in his front door, smashed up all the furniture and ripped the wallpaper off for good measure. Standard procedure, then? Yes sir. In the taproom of the Yarn Spinners pub across the road, they examined several boxes that had been recovered from Yogis property. Thirty minutes later, the Chief Inspector came out with a drunken wobble on and staggered over to the school with his megaphone. He raised it to his lips and spoke into it. Testing, testing, 1-2-3... Very good, said Yogi over the PA, so they teach the police to count these days, do they? Look, we know exactly who you are, so I suggest you give yourself up and come out quietly. And I suggest you go and stuff a banana up your ricker, you pointless bell-end!
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Okay, if you want to play it that way, thats fine by me. Ive got all the time in the world. Of course you have, youre the police; you do fuck all all day anyway. Right, Ive had enough of this; youve got exactly five minutes to surrender or I will be forced to take drastic actions. Arent all coppers actions drastic? Are you coming out right now or what? Dont talk shit. Just because youve got hairs around your mouth doesnt mean you have to talk like a cunt! Giggles and laughter rang around the crowd as Yogi started to win them over, not because they were happy with what he was doing but because he was less of a twat than the police were. CI Weems bent down, opened a cardboard box, pulled out a magazine and held it up in full view of the building. What have you got there then, copper, the police guide to what to do when youve got no fucking idea what youre doing? More laughter came from the onlookers. No its not. Actually, its one of many items that were retrieved from your attic. Silence. Oh, lost your tongue, have you? Well, Ill tell you exactly what it is. This one is from a box marked Priceless porn. NO! cried Yogi over the tannoy. Yes, and this one I have in my hand is Penthouse Christmas Edition 1968. What are you going to do with it? asked Yogi nervously. Well, I have this nice big box of matches, he replied, taking one out. NO! You cant be so evil? Oh yes I can, watch, he said as he struck the match against the box, held it under the outstretched magazine and grinned broadly as it went up in flames like a fireball.
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NOOOOOO! Not Christmas 68. Wheres your heart, you evil bastard? Havent got one thats why Im a police officer, remember? Next, he said, pulling another magazine from the box, how about Esquire September 1963 or, better still, Playboy November 1962, the one with the playmate of the month with nipples like saucers? No, not Merle Pertile! You evil bastard! Whoosh. It also went up in smoke. NO, stop, okay, okay, Ill do what you ask, just dont touch Playboy February 1974, the one with the big bushy minges, I beg you! Okay then, youve got five minutes to get out here, or they all burn. Okay, Im coming. And no quick cheeky anal with those girls on the way out, okay? Okay, okay, I promise. Just then, everybodys attention was brought to a bright light in the sky. They all looked up to see what it was. Joey awoke gently, slowly opening his eyes. He had no idea where he was. He saw a milky transparent wall around him and figured he must still be asleep and in the middle of a bizarre dream. He was face down on a transparent table and concentrating his focus deeper, he realised he could see through the floor and noticed roads, cars, parks and people the size of ants. They all seemed to be standing still, looking up at him. A relaxing sensation filled his body as something made him want to look round. He turned his head slowly to look behind him. Two aliens with huge heads, black eyes and tiny mouths were standing on either side of him. One held a long metallic tool that was sticking right up his arse. Why is it always anal probes? he thought as he turned his head back and passed out again. The crowd watched as the bright light in the sky flashed, rotated, then shrank as it accelerated at light speed into a tiny dot, before vanishing with a pop, the same sound
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kids make when they pump up their cheeks with air and pull their index finger out of the side of their mouths. Everybody stood spellbound in silence, staring into the sky, trying to make sense of what they had just seen. Only three people were still alert, Casino, Yogi and a police marksman with his eye still on his sights. Casino had seen enough of weird shining lights the night before and had used this time to work his way over to the gates of the park, where a police car was parked across them, blocking anyone from entering or leaving. Realising that nobody was looking anywhere but up, he made a dash for a black cab that was just about to follow the diversion signs caused by the police cordon across Manchester Road. It was stationary, as the driver had also stopped to look at the spectacle in the sky. He jumped into back of taxi and banged on the window separating him from the driver. Drive, he said but the cabbie, like everyone else, was transfixed with the sky. Oi, drive! he shouted again, finally breaking the cabbies concentration. Eh? Oh sorry, where to? Victoria coach station. Okay mate, said the driver as he turned off the light above his windscreen to indicate he was carrying a fare. Yogi, unaware of what was going on outside the building, had now completely lost his mind and ran outside onto the grass in front of the school stark bollock naked, waving his cock around. What the fuck was that? said CI Weems. A flying saucer? No sir, said the marksman, his sights now on Yogi. Its his cock. Shall I take him down, sir? CI Weems was still concentrating on the sky and not listening. Err, yes No I MEAN NO! BANG. Oh fuck!
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Casino jumped as he heard the distant rifle shot and a tear welled in the corner of his eye. The taxi pulled up at a set of traffic lights that were on red. Casino stared out of the window and noticed the news on a dozen TV sets in the Rediffusion showroom window. It wasnt Yogi; it was Jean standing on the doorstep of a large Kensington house with cameras flashing at her. She was smiling and waving to the cameras. The words, Deputy Prime Minister forced to resign after being involved in high-class hooker sex parties. The biggest scandal since the Profumo affair back in the early sixties, ran across the foot of the screen. As he watched the screens, Jean pulled her top down and popped her tits out in front of the cameras as two burley police officers arrested and handcuffed her then took her away. Casino flopped back into the taxi seat and closed his eyes. The end Thats it! Finito. Thank fuck for that! The moral of the story? There isnt one. What were you expecting, a happy ending or something where Joey ends up rewarded for all his years of persecution and shit he suffered all his life with love, a happy marriage and successful kids? That shit just doesnt happen. Its not always Steven Spielberg, you know! Some people have a good life, others dont. Some people look after themselves, eat well, exercise constantly, then die of cancer or get hit by a bus, while others people abuse themselves, abuse others and still go on to live happily into old age. Theres no God! How can there be? Divine intervention! So wheres the intervention in childhood leukaemia? Life can be wonderful and it can be a piece of shit. Its all potluck, luck of the draw, the lottery of life!
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If you can go through life enjoying yourself as much as possible and shitting on as few people as necessary, then youve done well, but if you cant, fuck it, you only live once! ... Okay then, if you insist!! End of part 2
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Another 95%
Other books not for girls by the author
95% (an uncensored biography for men that never grew up)
ISBN-13: 978-1491270974 ISBN-10: 1491270977 (EAN)
Another 95% (sex and drugs and cock and dole)

ISBN-13: 978-1494882983 ISBN-10: 1494882981 (EAN)
95% More (in production) The Final 95% (in production)
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Another 95% (Sex and Drugs and Cock and Dole)

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Another 95% (Sex and Drugs and Cock and Dole)

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ANOTHER 95%

(Sex and drugs and cock and dole)

About the author!..

Sex and drugs and cock and dole

Sex and drugs and cock and dole

Sex and drugs and cock and dole

Chapter 1 - Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Oil rigs, cripples & Thatcher

Chapter 2 - Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Shaw Gorbies, syphilis and babies

Chapter 3 Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Flash-bangs, cardamoms and swamping

Chapter 4 - Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Beer barrels, banjo strings & buses

Chapter 5 - Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Fishnets, Strangeways and Blackpool

Chapter 6 - Openers, closers & windows

Openers, closers & windows

Openers, closers & windows

Openers, closers & windows

Openers, closers & windows

Openers, closers & windows

Chapter 7 - Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens

Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens

Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens

Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens

Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens

Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens

Bargain buckets, rubber dresses & Rizla greens