Well, I’ll tell you something for bloody nothing, I really bloody hate that Danny Blake, I really do. I just can’t stand the bloody bloke. Then again, he’s a pretty easy person to hate. You see, Danny’s a whinge-bag. A self-pitying moan-machine. His shoulders have more chips than a Blackpool casino, you know? So, when Fat Tony says he’ll pay me a ton to knock ten buckets of shite out of the little fucker, well, I jump at the chance. It’s more of a pleasure than a chore, to be honest.
Now, you might expect Fat Tony to have more tolerance for Danny’s ways—what with them being stepbrothers and the like—but, just as he does with pretty much everyone I know, Danny sets Tony’s teeth on edge. Gets his back up. And, anyway, Danny owes Fat Tony a shed load of dosh and Fat Tony is as tight-fisted a
