Magpie Ranger

Here's an extract from my current project 'Magpie Ranger' - it's a look back at my years supporting the toon and really an affirmation of my 'old school' credentials. The book is very much a work in progress but this is a flavour of how it's going to be - all comments welcome.

Deprived? F**k off man it was great

“I’m Pele.”

“Nah man I’m Pele.”

“Well I’m Kevin Keegan then.”

“Who are you Simon?”

“Me, I’m Kenny Dalglish.”

“Bastard, I wish I’d thought of that.”

“You swore, I’m telling Miss.”

That was Hardcastle, snivelling little grass, he wasn’t in our gang but he hung round the edges. He was shite at football as well and claimed he didn’t like it. Welbeck Road Juniors was no place for a lad who didn’t like football and he had to play with the lasses most days.

“Who can I be then?” I whinged as eight year olds did at dinnertime in the seventies when all the good players were took already.

“You Andy. You can be Rivelino.”

“Rivelino?”

“Aye man, he scored that free kick in the world cup. He was deed good.”

“HA HA – you’re called Rivers and Simon said you could be Rivelino. That means you’re Riverslino. HA HA.”

“Piss off man Hardcastle.” Deka smacked him in the face and he ran off crying, looking for a teacher. Deka was my mate.

“Reet then.” I said, happy at being thought worthy of a brazilian nickname and knowing in my heart it was because all the lads compared my skills to the south american tricksters' and not because my surname was vaguely similar to a little known ex international.

“We’re kicking towards the dinner huts and I’m Rivelino.”

Aye, them were the days. That’s my very first football memory, probably Hardcastle’s first taste of football violence as well. However, my first taste of professional football was in the 1976 season, we hadn’t long moved to Byker and Uncle Charlie took me to the match with him. I can vaguely remember us playing Arsenal, me sitting on a barrier bored and it being absolute shite. Obviously that was me sold and set for a lifetime of misery, Cheers Charlie.

At that age football consisted of watching Shoot on a Sunday afternoon. For those of you who don’t know, Shoot was a regional highlights programme that operated a strict rotational policy no matter which division your team was in. In practice this usually involved you sitting through an hour of Carlisle United (fucking Carlisle aren’t even in the North East) versus Darlington and then at the end you got two minutes of Newcastle being twatted four nowt off some Cockney team. I once sat in and watched it, while my mates played in the street outside, purely to witness the mighty Peter Withe score in a three one defeat to Brighton. In the interests of balance I have to point out that obviously as well as Shoot you also had Match of the Day on BBC one but, if you didn’t support or want to watch Liverpool then this was utterly pointless, a bit similar to supporting Sunderland really, enough said.

Anyway, at the tender age of six there was no way I’d be going to the match on a regular basis and there was no way Uncle Charlie wanted to interrupt his pre match drinking to take the nephew along so Shoot was the closest I got. The real football action at that age was in the street where, as inventive future bouncers, entrepreneurs, plumbers, butchers and drug dealing layabouts we created games that would keep us occupied for hours on end. The names trip off the tongue even now, Gates, Three pots in, Headers and Volleys, Spot and of course Kerbs. You can stick your playstations and DVD players up your arse, proper kids played these games, usually in packs of twenty or so and always with some blood and tears mixed into the equation.

During the ephochal 76 season when I saw my first live game and fell in love with the club that was to be my life for the rest of my life we achieved something that has happened only twice since – we got to a cup final. Granted it was only the league cup and not the sexy FA version but it was a cup final. We’d fucked up badly in the 74 FA cup final but I’d been too young to understand that, now though at the age of six I was old enough to know what was going on. Actually, in this city, where Grannies who’ve never been to the match can tell you who’s shit and who’s not trying and even people who don’t like football can tell you why we never win anything, I was old enough to have an actual opinion.

All I can remember of the game was that we lost and an alleged geordie (Dennis Tueart – wanker) had scored the winner past us with an overhead kick. It didn’t matter that we’d had a weakened team or that we had laid the ghost of the spineless 74 cup final team, we’d still lost. Now obviously as a six year old who knew that we’d been in a final only two years before this wasn’t the end of the world as obviously we’d be there again quite soon wouldn’t we? All these adults that filled my house drinking party sevens and singing Blaydon Races were always telling me how we were the best team in the world so it stood to reason that we’d win it next year. Oh the innocence of youth!

Me and the lads were soon out in the street playing Cup finals, the misery of losing at Wembley soon forgotten, well unless you claimed to be Dennis Tueart, you soon got a clout if that was the case. Me, I was Rivelino, Brazil had never beaten Newcastle in a cup final so that was alright.

New article on Nufcview

My latest article on the toon is here:-


http://www.clubfanzine.com/newcastle_united/index.php

Feel free to comment on the style or the content...or you could just slag me off as usual.

You can take the boy out of Byker...

I've been thinking a lot lately about growing up and the passing of time, I imagine this happens more frequently as you get older and your own mortality becomes ever more evident.

The other day I was picking up apples from the bottom of my garden and evaluating things. The more I thought about it the more I realised just how far I've come in the world, from humble beginnings on a council estate in the East end of Newcastle to my own home in the prosperous south. I can eat steak every night if I want to, I can go out when I want, have weekends away with the lads and generally have anything up to four holidays a year.

In short, I realised that I'm very comfortable and I became a little worried that this would affect my writing, I mean my books and stories are all about the mean streets and the scum who inhabit them not litterbugs in market towns playing quaint games called Aunt Sally .

This was still concerning me as I watched a small kitten gambolling on my lawn with it's mother.

I got the little bastard right on the head.

Separated at Birth?? - Part 2

• Gordon Brown / A Charva (or chav if you’re southern)
  
  Consider the evidence: -
  
• Charvas are bang into tack (or dope if you're southern) and Gordon is addicted to tax.
• They’ll both shaft anything they can – In the Charva’s case it’s charvettes, in Brown’s case it’s England.
• You’d like to give them both a bit of ‘Happy slapping’
• They’re both ruled by the head with one eye
• They both rob pensioners
  
  I rest my case.

Tough on crime...

In Manchester two PCSO's (Police community support officers - or 'waste of fucking time' as I like to call them) stood by as a little boy drowned because 'They hadn't received the proper training to effect a rescue'.

In the same area both PCSO's and real coppers have been banned from riding bikes unless they have '12 months experience' in case they fall off.

Words fail me.

This country's fucked.

Craven Heart...

I’m not a Sun reader, that’s not a swipe at anyone who is, I just don’t like the paper and the gossip they tend to promote as news. It is a fact though, that ‘The super soaraway Sun’ is an influential daily that can sway its readers quite easily. As a result of this the main political parties tend to try to curry favour with the editors and owner of the paper.

Well, with this in mind, I note (some lads at work buy it) that they’re starting a ‘give us a referendum on Europe’ campaign (other papers have been doing that for months but The Sun will claim it ‘was us wot won it’) and I’m betting the prime minister will be sweating a bit now.

You see, the bosses at The Sun are experts at gauging public opinion so when they decide to start any sort of campaign it’s usually in the knowledge that they’re onto a winner where their readership is concerned. As the Labour party manifesto promised us a referendum and they’re now going back on that (similar to top up fees and the non-raising of taxes as I recall – well unless you’re Scottish) then Gordon may well be about find out that the honeymoon’s over.

Would selling your country out and giving it away to our former enemies be considered treason these days? And, my main question, if it is then is it punishable by death?

Jose don't wanna go to Chelsea...

Regular readers will be aware that I think this country is in a right state. Further evidence to this end was presented to me last night. Whilst watching a very interesting news item on Jose Mourinho's departure from Chelsea (25,000 for a champions league game-Jesus, do they want free prawn sandwiches before they turn up?) I witnessed a grown man crying. Can someone tell me what the fuck is all that about? I can just hear them down the Kings Road now:-

'He was the peoples manager...sniff'

'Sob...I've left my flowers at the main gates. Do you think he'll see them?'

'Boo Hoo...Has Elton arranged the benefit gig yet?'

Get a grip you soft twats!!

This week's column is now up on the Nufcview site :-

http://www.clubfanzine.com/newcastle_united/index.php

Feel free to join the forum and comment on it...or just slag me off on here!

Rivs

It's the way I tell em'...

A bus carrying a load of makems is involved in a head on crash with a car carrying a solitary Geordie, and everyone dies. They go to Heaven. Because of the grief they have suffered, God decides to grant them one wish each, before they enter Paradise. They're all lined up, and God asks the first one what their wish is.

The first makem looks around shiftily and answers,"I've secretly always wanted to be a geordie and be attractive to women, now I'm in heaven I'm not ashamed to admit it - can I be a Geordie?" and so God snaps His fingers, and it is done.

The second one in line sees and hears this and says "I want to be a handsome Geordie too." Another snap of His fingers and the wish is granted.This goes on for a while, but when God is halfway down the line,the last person in the line starts laughing.

When there are only ten people left, this man, the solitary geordie from the car, is rolling on the floor laughing his strides off. Finally, God gets to the end of the line and asks the laughing one what his wish will be. The man eventually catches his breath, and says: "Make 'em all Makems again."

I'm here all week!

Everything is average nowadays - part 5

People whose jobs are their lives – they won’t give you any medals and you’ll be out of the door the minute they don’t want you any more you stupid twats; Judges – completely out of touch and irrelevant to modern society; Politicians – scum; The media in this country – too many separate agendas hiding the real news from the masses; Tara Palmer Tomkinson – writer? Professional posh bint more like;The Liberal Democrats backpedalling on their manifesto pledge to hold a referendum on the european constitution and instead backing Gordon Brown because he'll do them loads of favours - never trust them...ever;The Crown Prosecution Service taking a woman to court because she threw her car around at 10 miles per hour to dislodge a yob who had jumped on her bonnet while his mate who had three dogs with him, including a pitbull, stood directly behind the car so she couldn't reverse. Oh yeh, even the police said there should be no further action but the CPS still went ahead - mind you there were no charges brought against the two nobs who attacked her car - tough on crime eh;Students (might as well);The government declaring that no-one will lose their savings should Northern Rock go under - this is the same government that stole (yes fucking STOLE - sue me I'd welcome the publicity) the pensions of millions of ordinary britons and destroyed their lives in the process. Does anyone actually believe them any more? The queues outside the branches of Northern Rock would suggest not;'Shirtlifter' being considered an offensive enough word to upset a grown man- fucking drama queen;Britney Spears - bored now pet, off you go;Did I mention politicians?

They're all chancing twats that should be shot with shit.

Hoo pet...do ye wanna hear a cock tale?

Apologies for the lack of posts over the last few days but I went to a wedding on Friday and I’ve been knackered ever since! It was a very classy affair, free bar all day consisting of wine, beer and champagne. This was rounded off at 18.30 by ‘Cocktail Hour’ when free cocktails were the order of the day – very nice. I was obviously a little disappointed by the lack of Mojito’s as they’re my official favourite playboy’s tipple but this was more than compensated for by my discovery of Cosmopolitans – I couldn’t get them down my neck fast enough!!

Later on instead of a cheesy disco we had a real live band who were shit hot and plenty of drunken jigging about ensued. All in all a great day and a good time had by all. Cheers Neil.

Anyway, it’s all a bit slow on the old writing front at the minute. I’m slowly stacking up the rejections for ‘Special’ in an attempt to over-shadow my rejection pile for ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’ and I’m confident of meeting that particular challenge. I’m still writing my Newcastle United memoirs – working title of ‘Magpie Ranger’ (you’d have to be an old school Newcastle fan to get that title – so the Wallsend Ultras are out!) and that’s proceeding slowly but surely. It’s a bit cathartic really, I keep remembering things from my youth that still make me laugh now – stuff like being chased across the pitch at Rotherham or hoying Mars bars at Gazza, those were the days eh.

Right then, best get on with some work – see you later.

My latest column is now online at Nufcview and can be read here:-

http://www.clubfanzine.co.uk/newcastle_united/index.php

Feel free to have a look and, if you're a newcastle fan, join the messageboard and start commenting. The site is in it's infancy but will take off soon so get in at the start and make your voice heard.

Rivs

JCL - an apology...

*********STOP PRESS*************

found it...I'm moving it to the right thread now.

********STOP PRESS**************



I appear to have inadvertently deleted a recent comment by 'JCL' that was intended for my 'Reasons to be cheerful' post. The comment involved Gordon Brown, The unions and Zimbabwe and was very good - if you'd like to post again I'll make sure it goes up there.

SORRY!!!!

Reasons to be cheerful...

In a change from some of my normal rants, particularly ‘Everything is average nowadays’ I thought I’d let you know about some things that have cheered me up no end recently:-

Knowing that this years crop of over-dramatic, shrieking, ignorant, selfish brats from Big Brother are slowly coming to the realisation that their fifteen minutes of fame is over and they have to return to their jobs at McDonalds/Tesco/the Call Centre as their own chat show and world wide adulation does not actually await them – I only wish I knew one of the twats so I could rub it in.

Vanessa Feltz telling Ulrika Johnson that after being married twice, having three kids by three different blokes and generally putting it about that maybe she should hang back before walking down the aisle again. I always like to see a critic criticised.

Rumours of Gordon Brown falling out with the unions – it’s the beginning of the end for the man who stole all our pensions, lets crime run uncontrolled (unless you drive a car – then you’re public enemy no. 1) and wishes to rename our country ‘Scotland too’.

Seeing that Leeds United might soon be run by a combination of Ken Bates and Freddy Shepherd – I’ve never liked them so I find this very amusing. The cherry on top of the cake would be if Souness was employed as manager!

Let’s hear yours.

Writing News

Morning Boys and Girls,

Hope you all had a good weekend. Just a quick bit of writing news for you all, Special has been rejected by a few more agents over the weekend (they'll all be sorry one day the fools - mwah ha ha ha) and I'm seriously considering hitting the publishers now, particularly the more independent, regional ones.

What do you reckon - stick or twist?

Also, I've written about ten thousand words of my Newcastle United book (Magpie Ranger), I was aiming at about fifty thousand - sort of Novella length - I'll keep you updated as to how I get on with that.

Rivs

Writing News

Morning All,

Here's this weeks column for Nufcview - doubtless you'll all have an opinion (especially the Manc and Chelsea contingent!).

Futures so bright – we gotta wear shades.

So then, five games unbeaten, three clean sheets and a top six position in what is shaping up to be a very open league this year. We’re looking solid at the back, combative in midfield and the lads at the front are starting to click…this couldn’t be our year could it? Nah, course not…I find a reason to think it’s our season every time, Jesus you’d think I’d remember that I’m a Magpie not a cockney red.

Whilst I’m eternally optimistic where the toon are concerned (apart from when the Caledonian chancer was in charge and employed a bigger entourage than Mariah Carey - I knew we were going nowhere under that clown) I have to temper my enthusiasm at our good start with a couple of nagging doubts that surface every now and then.

Will Big Sam continue to find a place for Smith when Barton’s fit? Our midfield is certainly getting stuck in and we all appreciate that but it does lack some creativity and the ball can get bogged down in the middle of the park when we’re screaming for Oba or Owen to be released.

Will we always play the big-little man combo meaning Oba or Owen alongside Viduka or Shola rather than both the little fella’s up front together? I’d like to see us rip into some teams and take a chance occasionally.

Will the injury curse hit us again? You know the one; Roeder never mentioned it and Souness never shut up about it.

Will the FA declare this season null and void after we’ve done the domestic treble for blatantly not allowing Chelsea to win everything even though they’ve got the most money? Aye, I’m back in optimism mode again!

Seriously, the fact that I can only think of two sensible reasons to dampen my cheerful disposition is testament to the whole air of professionalism and enthusiasm that has engulfed St. James Park in recent weeks. Full credit for that must go not only to Big Sam but also to Chris Mort and Mike Ashley (Bigg Market Mike as he’s known in our house). A recent example being Charles N’Zogbia’s new contract, the manager tells the chairman that the player deserves new terms, the chairman sorts it quietly and with the minimum of fuss and one of the hottest young players in the premiership is rapidly tied up on a five year contract before Arsene Wenger even gets a sniff. Under the old regime it would all have been played out in the columns of a particular local evening newspaper and after the player had been publicly told he ‘owed the fans’ would have ended up in him leaving – or am I wide of the mark?

Anyway things are looking good, everyone’s upbeat and, for the first time in ages the management and players at the club are in tune with the fans.
Bugger it, I’ve changed my mind, altogether now …We’re gonna win the league!

Howay the lads

This column can be seen at ...http://www.clubfanzine.co.uk/newcastle_united/index.php

Shall we take a trip...

The strangest thing just happened at work. I was in the goods in area skiving when a lorry pulled up and we started unloading it. The driver glanced at me and did a double take, I looked at him and did the same...turns out he's from Byker and we used to play football together now and then about 30 years ago!!

I can't for the life of me remember his name but we recognised each other straight away - small world eh?

Writing News

Here's a couple of quick updates for you boys and girls:-

• The Newcastle website I write a regular column for (http://www.clubfanzine.co.uk/newcastle_united/index.php) is apparently going to be featured in 'The Sun' this week - so keep an eye out for it and let me know if my name's mentioned!!
• I've started writing an account of my years as Newcastle fan, the ups and downs, the drink and fights, the birds and bollocks (mainly bollocks to be fair). This book WILL be published, either by an independent geordie publisher (The Mag, True Faith style) or by the publishing company I'm seriously considering setting up - Byker Books!

Anyway, just thought I'd let you all know what I'm thinking - so let me know what you think.

Rivs

Getting away with it...

I was sent this short play by a fellow writer - he's happy for you all to see it and get your comments. For what it's worth I think it's very good but let's hear what you think.

Turkey is prowling his small holding cell at Clifford Street police station, his rage takes a hold of him and he begins banging on the cell door

TURKEY : LERRUS OUT YOU FUCKING PIG WANKERS, I HAVEN’T DONE OWT.

TURKEY : DAZ CAN YOU HEAR US? DAZ, WHICH CELL YOU IN?

TURKEY : FUCKING CUNT'S WHERE’S DAZ?

The eye slot in the cell door opens

POLICEMAN : Keep the fucking noise down Turkey and get yourself ready to welcome a new cell mate.

TURKEY : A FUCKING CELL-MATE.YOU CAN’T DO THAT IT’S AGAINST MY HUMAN RIGHTS TO SHARE A CELL LESS THAN FIFTEEN FEET WIDE. UNLESS IT’S DAZ, IS IT DAZ?

POLICEMAN : No it’s not, it’s fucking Persil, now shut the fuck up.

The eye slot in the door slams shut and Turkey continues to pace the perimeter of his cell, thinking aloud.

TURKEY : I hope it’s fucking Daz; he’s bound to have some gear stashed up his arse, saying that like the last time it was shit.

TURKEY : Whoever it is he’s on the fucking floor, this is my bed and it better not be any of those immigrant cunt’s either, the cheeky fuckers coming over here and getting all our benefits without doing any graft.

The cell door lock turns and the door opens.

POLICEMAN : Here’s your new cell-mate Turkey.

ANTHONY : Look officer, this can’t right, there must be some mistake.

POLICEMAN : Shut the fuck up and get inside.

ANTHONY : Please, at least give me my own cell for the night.

POLICEMAN : Have you heard that Turkey? He doesn’t want to share with you.

TURKEY : Cheeky cunt, I don’t want to share with him either.

The cell door shuts and the policeman shouts through it.

POLICEMAN : Just don’t ask him why he’s called Turkey.

ANTHONY : What did he shout?

TURKEY : Nothing, So who the fuck are you then?

Anthony offers his hand and replies

ANTHONY : Hello I’m Anthony, Anthony Hughes.

Turkey ignores the offer of the handshake.

TURKEY : I’m fucking Turkey and that’s my bed.

ANTHONY : Oh right, so we don’t have a bed each.

TURKEY : Does it look like it?

ANTHONY : Err okay…at least it’ll only be for a few hours.

TURKEY : A few hours, what the fuck you on about? You’ll be lucky if you get out by tomorrow afternoon.

ANTHONY : Tomorrow afternoon, I can’t stay that long. I was told I’d get to see the duty solicitor in the morning.

TURKEY : On a Sunday morning, you’ll be fucking lucky.

ANTHONY : But I must, when will I get my phone call?

TURKEY : This isn’t the fucking Bill. You’ll be lucky to get a blanket never mind a phone call. What you in for anyway?

ANTHONY : Nothing, I haven’t done anything.

TURKEY : Bollocks you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t done anything. So what is it then? Have you and your boyfriend had a fight?

ANTHONY : I’m not gay I’m married.

TURKEY : Aye and so was fucking Barrymore. So what is it then? You better not be a nonce.

ANTHONY : What’s a nonce?

TURKEY : A nonce, a kiddie fiddler, a paedo. Is that what you’re in for?

ANTHONY : Certainly not, how dare you.

TURKEY : You’d better fucking not be, and don’t fucking how dare you me or you’re getting a hiding.

TURKEY : So what are you in for then?

ANTHONY : As I said I’m innocent so I’d rather not say.

TURKEY : Must be something to do with tax or fraud, you look like that type, not like me.

ANTHONY : I’m not any type, this is all a huge mistake, I’ve done nothing wrong.

TURKEY : Yeah course you haven’t and neither have I.

ANTHONY : So are you innocent as well?

TURKEY : Oh yeah, it wasn’t me that screwed the off license on Shields Road and it wasn’t me who lifted the computers from the hospital.

ANTHONY : Oh who was it then?

TURKEY : What?

ANTHONY : So who was it then?

TURKEY : For fuck’s sake it was fucking me wasn’t it! That’s what I’m saying you dick it wasn’t me, but it was me - and I didn’t get caught.

ANTHONY : Oh right I see, but it really wasn’t me.

TURKEY : Looking at you it probably wasn’t, you don’t look like you could turn the garden over never mind anything else. You’re obviously not a career criminal like myself.

ANTHONY : You make a career out of crime? You don’t look old enough.

TURKEY : I’m twenty three, a veteran in this game and crime does pay, don’t let anyone else tell you any different.

ANTHONY : So what sort of things do you do to earn money?

TURKEY : Everything, armed robbery, drugs, prostitution.

ANTHONY : You do armed robberies?

TURKEY : That would be telling wouldn’t it?

ANTHONY : I suppose its better that it didn’t know.

TURKEY : Yeah, I’ve got loads of shooters me and they’re not just for show if you know what I mean.

ANTHONY : You shoot people?

TURKEY : Only if I have to.

ANTHONY : So how many people have you shot?

TURKEY : Like I said before that would be telling.

ANTHONY : Okay, I understand.

TURKEY : Aye, but between you and me it’s more than two and less than four.

ANTHONY : Oh right. So what about the prostitution? You don’t exploit girls by pimping them out do you?

TURKEY : Fuck me; the state of some of them they’re the one’s doing the exploiting.

ANTHONY : Don’t you feel guilty? They’re someone’s daughters.

TURKEY : Aye but a man’s got to eat.

ANTHONY : There’s loads of legitimate ways to make money though, have you never had a normal job?

TURKEY : This is a normal job where I’m from?

ANTHONY : I can imagine, what about the drugs then? Do you sell them?

TURKEY : You’re asking a lot of questions, are you a fucking bizzie?

ANTHONY : No I’m just making conversation; you brought up your different means of income.

TURKEY : You’d better fucking not be. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d tried to fit me up, it’s the only way they can catch me.

ANTHONY : But you’re already caught, you’re in here.

TURKEY : I’m in here but I’m not caught, caught means prison, not the cell’s at the local nick, and that’s another story altogether.

TURKEY : What were we saying just before that?

ANTHONY : The drugs.

TURKEY : Oh aye, my speciality, the only line of work where you can mix business with pleasure, well that and the pimping.

ANTHONY : So you take them as well?

TURKEY : Well I need to test out the merchandise; my customers will go elsewhere if the product isn’t up to scratch and my pallet is as cultured as anyone’s when it comes to barbiturates.

ANTHONY : Isn’t selling drugs a bit risky?

TURKEY : Only if some stupid fucker decides to stray onto my patch.

ANTHONY : Does that happen much?

TURKEY : You’re asking a lot of fucking questions again.

ANTHONY : Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, I’m just interested.

TURKEY : The answer’s no anyway, they know better.

ANTHONY : Aren’t you worried about the effects of the drugs?

TURKEY : It’s the fucking effects of the drugs that everyone wants; you haven’t got a fucking clue have you?

ANTHONY : No I mean the long-term effects of the drugs.

TURKEY : What birds, money and power?

ANTHONY : I mean the mental side effects like paranoia and depression.

TURKEY : The only fucking depressing thing in here is you, I’m telling you about the life of a gangster and all you’re arsed about is some little puffy side-effects.

ANTHONY : Oh right, sorry cocksucker.

TURKEY : FUCKING WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

ANTHONY : Err nothing, I just said sorry.

TURKEY : ARE YOU FUCKING SURE?

ANTHONY : Yes, why what did you think I said?

TURKEY : It doesn’t fucking matter, but watch your step.

TURKEY : So what the fuck are you in here for?

ANTHONY : I’d rather not say.

TURKEY : And I’d rather not be sharing a cell with some boring cunt who’s hiding things from me.

ANTHONY : I’m not hiding anything I’d just rather not say. Where did you get that cup from?

TURKEY : One of the bizzies brought me a cuppa before you were let in.

ANTHONY : Do you think I could get one?

TURKEY : Fucking no chance, even though we’re on opposite sides the bizzies respect someone of my standing.

ANTHONY : Cocksucker.

TURKEY : FUCKING WHAT!!

ANTHONY : I said I’m parched.

TURKEY : YOU FUCKING NEVER YOU JUST CALLED ME A COCKSUCKER.

ANTHONY : I never honest, I just said I’m thirsty.

TURKEY : THAT’S THE SECOND TIME YOU’VE CALLED ME THAT.

ANTHONY : Honestly I haven’t said anything like that, I wouldn’t dare.

TURKEY : You fucking better not either, In fact you better just shut the fuck up, I’m going to try and get some kip. These pills are getting all weird

ANTHONY : This is what I’m on about with the drug side-effects. People can hear and see things that aren’t happening.

TURKEY : Fuck off, I can handle my drugs, it’s me who makes other people paranoid.

ANTHONY : So have you had a lot of drugs tonight?

TURKEY : Enough to kill an elephant, but that’s fuck all to me.

ANTHONY : Maybe that’s why you think I’m calling you a cocksucker.

TURKEY : FUCKING WATCH IT CUNT.

ANTHONY : Okay cocksucker.

TURKEY : I FUCKING KNEW IT.

Turkey jumps up from the bed and tries to attack Anthony. In one deft movement Anthony throws Turkey on his back.

ANTHONY : Cocksucker.

Turkey jumps back onto his feet and tries to attack Anthony again.

TURKEY : YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD CUNT.

This time Anthony floors Turkey with a single punch.

ANTHONY : Stay down or I’ll really hurt you.

Turkey remains on the floor.

TURKEY : I slipped, I’m going to fucking kill you when I get back up.

ANTHONY : Course you are fellatio boy.

TURKEY : Who the fuck are you? Who have you been talking to?

ANTHONY : I’ve already told you, Anthony Hughes. Does the name not ring a bell?

TURKEY : Does it fuck.

ANTHONY : That’ll be all the drugs rotting your brain.

TURKEY : There’s fuck all wrong with my brain but when these pills wear off I’m going to fucking tear you apart.

ANTHONY : Not much chance of that Turkey. Tell me why do they call you Turkey?

TURKEY : Fuck off.

ANTHONY : Why does a big, armed robber, pimping gangster get the moniker Turkey?

TURKEY : Fuck off.

ANTHONY : I’ve heard it’s because you got caught gobbling another lad’s cock at school.

TURKEY : Is it fuck, it’s because I was the first lad at school to get a gobble.

ANTHONY : We both know that’s not true don’t we? Just as we both know you’re not a gangster are you?

TURKEY : I fucking am and you’re fucking dead when I get out of here, you and your family.

ANTHONY : Instead of issuing meaningless threats I’d start to think about what’s going on here if I was you.

TURKEY : What the fuck you on about?

ANTHONY : Think about it Cocksucker. How do I know so much about you and your past? And why are you lying on the floor fucked?

TURKEY : Too many pills, that’s why. Who are you?

ANTHONY : Another side-effect of drugs is that it impairs your memory.

TURKEY : And another one is you’re fucked once these pills wear off.

ANTHONY : You said you could take your drugs.

TURKEY : I can I must’ve had a dodgy one.

ANTHONY : Maybe it wasn’t a pill.

TURKEY : It must be, I can hardly move. Shit this hasn’t happened before, what if I get worse? Fuck, you’re going to have to get the on-duty bizzie.

ANTHONY : That’s the paranoia I told you about.

TURKEY : It’s not fucking paranoia, I can’t move, ring the buzzer.

ANTHONY : Not just yet, there’s plenty time for that isn’t there.

TURKEY : Seriously mate there’s something not right here, I’m
paralysed.

ANTHONY : Aah now we’re getting somewhere.

TURKEY : What the fuck you on about?

ANTHONY : Paralysis: A partial or complete loss of voluntary muscle function; a condition of helpless inactivity.

TURKEY : You’re fucking mad, who are you?

ANTHONY : All will be revealed in due course, now why do you think you’re paralysed?

TURKEY : I’ve told you I can’t move, I must’ve had a dodgy pill.

ANTHONY : Ask yourself this. Why has your paralysis only came on since I was put in the cell?

TURKEY : Eh?

ANTHONY : Come on Turkey think; how come you didn’t feel like this earlier in the night? I know you’ve been taking drugs since this afternoon because I’ve been following you.

TURKEY : You’ve been fucking following me, why? Who the fuck are you?

ANTHONY : You’re moving away from the point Turkey, what could have brought on your paralysis?

TURKEY : Fuck off, just leave me.

ANTHONY : Okay then ask yourself this. How many times in the past has a policeman given you a cup of tea or coffee?

TURKEY : What’s that got to …….. WHAT! SO YOU’RE SAYING THE FUCKING COPPERS HAVE SPIKED ME?

ANTHONY : Now we’re getting somewhere, and they say the youth of today has no intelligence.

TURKEY : THAT CUP OF TEA WAS SPIKED, WHAT WITH?

ANTHONY : Ahh so now you’re thinking that I’m involved in this.

TURKEY : Are you?

ANTHONY : Oh yes, most definitely.

TURKEY : What is it? What’ve you spiked me with?

ANTHONY : Don’t worry it’s only incapacitated you but thankfully you’ll still be able to feel things - like pain.

TURKEY : Fuck off you can’t do anything to me in here.

ANTHONY : Why not?

TURKEY : Are you a fucking copper?

ANTHONY : I’m afraid not…. and you should be afraid that I’m not.

TURKEY : Who’s sent you?

ANTHONY : No-one.

TURKEY : Look mate, its err Anthony isn’t it? I don’t know what you’re here for but you’ve got the wrong bloke. All that stuff before was just bollocks, I’m not a gangster I’m just a normal kid. I was just trying to impress you.

ANTHONY : But you said you were going to kill me and me family, how would that impress me?

TURKEY : I didn’t mean it though; I was scared.

ANTHONY : Scared and paralysed, not a nice combination is it?

TURKEY : No, look please help me.

ANTHONY : HELP YOU! My, my, now we have come full circle.

TURKEY : What do you mean?

ANTHONY : You’re lying here helpless, scared and paralysed, hoping to be saved from this nightmare that’s engulfed you.

TURKEY : Please mate, help me.

Anthony walks over and kicks Turkey in the face.

TURKEY : Aarghh, stop, please stop.

ANTHONY : Is this ringing any bells yet Turkey?

TURKEY : What’s going on please tell me, I don’t know what I’ve done?

ANTHONY : That’s the problem Turkey, you and your friend Daz don’t even know what you’ve done.

TURKEY : Daz, where’s he?

ANTHONY : He’s shall we say ‘sleeping’, that’s why he couldn’t hear you shouting.

TURKEY : Asleep? What have you done to him? This is a fucking police station you’ll never get away with it.

ANTHONY : ‘Getting away with it.’ I imagine that’s a very common phrase for scum like you.

TURKEY : Look just leave me and I’ll not tell anyone, I promise.

ANTHONY : What do you consider to be ‘getting away with it?’ One year in a youth detention centre maybe?

Anthony kicks Turkey in the balls.

ANTHONY : A driving ban and one poxy year in a youth detention centre in return for taking the life of a beautiful young girl. IS THAT FUCKING GETTING AWAY WITH IT?

Anthony leans down and lifts Turkey’s head by the scruff of his neck.

ANTHONY : DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM NOW?

TURKEY : Shit, you’re the dad aren’t you? You’re the bloke who’s daughter it was. Look mate, it wasn’t me driving it was Daz, I tried to stop him but I couldn’t… please don’t.

ANTHONY : Was it Daz who chose to pull her body to the side of the road, rob her and then drive off?

TURKEY : Yes, it was Daz, all of it. He made me.

ANTHONY : Did Daz make you drink and take drugs and steal the car?

TURKEY : Yes he threatened me.

Anthony slams Turkey’s face into the floor.

ANTHONY : That’s exactly what Daz said. So now let’s look at the facts.

TURKEY : Please… don’t.

ANTHONY : I’m locked in a police station cell with one of the murderers of my daughter.

TURKEY : I’m sorry.

ANTHONY : Some of my brothers’ incensed ex-colleagues, he’s retired from the force now, have gone to great lengths to ensure that they’re all on shift together when you and your friend have
been arrested.

TURKEY : Please, I’m begging you.

ANTHONY : They have also aided and abetted me in drugging you and even provided me with this.

Anthony pulls a large knife from the back of his trousers.

TURKEY : FUCK PLEASE MAN DON’T, FUCKING PLEASE.

ANTHONY : Recognise this Turkey? This is the knife my friends planted on you to facilitate your arrest. Now what would happen if you had two knives and the police only found one on you? That would mean that you still had a knife in the cells.

TURKEY : I’ll do anything man, please stop, I’ll say anything. I’ll tell the courts that Daz done it on purpose.

ANTHONY : And what would happen if you and Daz were placed in the same cell, with one knife? Can you see where this is going cocksucker?

TURKEY : Fuck I’ll do it for you; I’ll kill him for you man, just let me go. Please.

ANTHONY :You kill him? No need for that Turkey, that pleasure was all mine, after all you said he was the driver.

TURKEY : FUCK DAZ’S DEAD! Shit man please don’t kill me. If you let me go I won’t say anything honest. Bring him in here and I’ll take the blame. I promise I won’t grass.

ANTHONY : YOU WON’T BE FUCKING ABLE TO.

Anthony leans down and plunges the knife into Turkey’s neck. As Turkey screams the plastic toy knife retracts on it’s internal spring. Turkey lies sobbing on floor in a pool of urine.

ANTHONY : You worthless little cunt. Not such a big gangster now are you? At least your mate didn’t piss his pants.

TURKEY : I’m sorry; please I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t know she was your daughter.

ANTHONY : That’s the thing Turkey, she fucking wasn’t my daughter, but if she was the knife would’ve been real.

Anthony walks over to the cell door and presses the buzzer.

ANTHONY : JIMMY, WE’RE FINISHED IN HERE NOW.

The cell door opens and Jimmy, the policeman from earlier, enters.

JIMMY : How’d it go mate? I take it he never recognised you out of uniform?

ANTHONY : Nah did he fuck but as expected the cunt shit himself, I still wish we could have done it for real though.

JIMMY : Well we’ve still got the bet going; first one to be diagnosed with a terminal disease goes all vigilante.

ANTHONY : Yeah every cloud has a silver lining and all that.

JIMMY : Aye that’s right. Go and get your uniform back on and I’ll make us a brew, then we can watch it back on tape before we wipe them.

Jimmy and Anthony leave the cell, lock the door behind them and turn the lights
off.

(c) Fasthands 2007 - Remember my solicitor's watching!!!