5th May, 2013
260 Words
5th May, 2013The following day, having had a night to contemplate this devastating news, I visited Tommy Gunn and his wife, Brenda at their home. This was the first time I had really gotten to talk with Brenda. She was not your typical WAG, (wives and girlfriends), as she wore an oversized jumper to conceal her own layers, leggings that showed off a much unwanted camel toe, and well, for lack of a better word, she looked frumpy. She actually resembled that Flump with the woolly white hat from the children’s TV show ‘the Flumps’.
Tommy was yet again sprawled on his sofa just wearing his Union Jack British Bulldog boxers. Did he have any other clothes? Could he not afford them? Must he advertise his chappie to me?
TOMMY: Man, this blows more than Sharon Dobbs.
STANLEY: Who’s Sharon Dobbs?
TOMMY: Some slag who does it behind the KFC.
BRENDA: How’d you know?
TOMMY: (Cough). Shinji lad told me.
STANLEY: With a new owner coming in, maybe this is the opportunity you need to secure a new contract.
BRENDA: He won’t secure nothing. Only thing he’s apparently secured is free blow jobs from some slag behind the KFC.
TOMMY: It was the Japanese lad!
BRENDA: He’s nothing but a gutless wonder.
TOMMY: Oi! Watch it! Shinji ain’t gutless.
BRENDA: Take no notice of him, Stan. For all those years that he’s been with that
team and look at the pigsty we’re living in! The manager of the Co-Op earns more than him.
TOMMY: Steve’s got a GCSE!
Fearing another fight was brewing and more plates would soon be flying, I left in a jiffy.
- Writer
