I used to get shipped off there at weekends. When dirty books were buried treasure. Everywhere was haunted. The guy next door used to play behind a shed and do ?? used to ?? but Lee lived further up the street. I remember being impressed with his air rifle as we all played with his action men. Nine years later he threatened to kick my head in with a ski while that other cunt spat at us at the bus stop. They waited for us in doorways outside . Then that day ?? finished and left. As they walked between the cars and I swore if it's the only language they understand, it's a language we can learn.
Get the car, we can go for a drive, fuckin' tooled up. They'll never catch us. We could find them in a street on their own, pull them in the car, take them somewhere quiet, fuck them up and drive them back and leave them where we found them, lying in their own fuckin' mess. I used to pretend thieir bed was the sea and we were trapped, like we were vampire hunters, surrounded, attacked from all sides. And that morning they walked between the cars, I swore it would happen. I see them in the streets sometimes, pass them in pubs, pass them in cars, some times in shops but if I see you round here again you're fuckin' dead.
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