old idea.

13 The “eh?-eye” man

He also appears around the bonfire in the union street church yard, just in the background- he’s having his fly-cup wee the lads before he goes back to work, big coveralls- cheap white decorator’s ones fae B & Q. Big leather bag full of instruments. The Guys are the only folk he can relate to since they are all in the same situation, and can’t really interact with normal people. If you don’t have the sillar to pay for his services he can get quite aggressive and intimidating, but usually will quieten down and accept a cheque. Most folk just phone the police, but he squirts Bull spunk at them and runs for it.

You wake up, but the wife disnae. Theres a noise down stairs, somebody in the Hoose? Maybe you’re imagining it, naw: there it goes again- a creeping slinkin’ shuffle. Somebodys in the Living room. What about the plasma T.V?

Fuck. The things brand new, jist arrived at the weekend.

You sit up, fumble for the light but cant quite reach. Another noise now, the dog whining, but it’s subdued and groggy sounding.

Downstairs, and you see him- something familiar and odd about him, hunched over in that weird get-up. He’s got Rapist all right. The dogs splayed out flat on the floor, and he’s got a huge syringe full of Bulls semen in one hand- and is shaving the dogs arse hole.

oh, Hullo there- sorry, I did knock before I came in, just assumed you were busy, I’m nearly finished, give me five minutes and you can sign the paper work”

fa’ the fuck are you? And fit are ye deein’ tae rapist?”

I’m the A.I man. I wouldn’t turn down a nice cup of tea”- he gives the giant syringe a gentle tap, and squirts a dollop into the air. “righty-ho”

Happy times flash willy nilly before Kev’s eyes, Rapist as a puppy taking a shit in his ex-wifes handbag, on the beach- scaring tourists in union terrace gardens when the daft wee lump went missing and got his head stuck in the railings, him beetroot red and agitated, toiling under a wave of panic and flailing about amongst folk screaming the dogs name at the topmost his lungs would allow.

Aologetically explaining the situation to two daft police cunts as Rapist shook his head and yapped just fresh and free of the vice like grip of the railings.

Scunner and buggery.

That’s a lovely heart warming story right there. Get typing.

He vists an old wifey in a respite home, she’s got the majority of her marbles; and with trembly old hands with a balled up hankey up the sleeve of her cardigan makes him a cup of tea. The nasty nurse that has been making her life hell by stealing stuff from her happens to have passed out after drinking a whole bottle of whisky from her Christmas presents on his night break, wakens up to find his arse full of bull spunk.

Does he get pregnant?


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