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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Comedy · #2217474
One mans morning of mishaps and he doesn't realise that everything he says is rhyming.
The rain was pounding at my window and I really didn’t want to go out, not this morning; not after last nights party, it was good but boy do I have one hell of a hangover and besides look at the state of the place and who the hell is that?

“Hello.”

“Oh hi,” the girl said, getting up off the floor “you certainly know how to throw a great party.”

“And who are you, I need a poo.”

“Hu?”

“I asked who you are, is that your bra?”

She stood looking at me with a look on her face that was a cross between bewilderment and anger.

“Wierdo.” she said, barging past me with a tut. I heard the door slam behind her.

“Wierdo, what did I do?” Rude.

I looked about the room for any other hangers on, nope all clear. Sod it the mess can wait and actually the rain might clear my head, grabbing my coat and a Ten pence shopping bag, I headed out into the deluge, closing the door without a slam behind me.

The girl, looking drenched was still by my gate.

“You ok, that what I say?” I asked.

“Piss off.” she replied.

Rude again.

“Can I pay for a Taxi, is that something you fancy?” I asked, offering her ten pounds.

“Oh for god sake, leave me alone.” she said grabbing the tenner and stormed off.

“Your makeups running and the bunny’s are coming.” I shouted in response to her one fingered gesture of thanks for throwing a great party.

Third time rude.

I turned and headed in the opposite direction, towards the shops. Now what did I need? Bread, Milk and ummmmm a fry up. Yep I fancied fry up.

“Nothing better than a greasy joe to soak up the beer son.” I remember me o’da saying as my arse was in the air and head down the loo.

But I have to admit he was right and I’d say the same to my young’uns when…no if, given half the chance I have any. No chance with runny make up girl I guess? Na.

The rain was starting to ease a little, which was good and it was helping ease my head. Unlike the sound of a cars horn, continually honking as it approached behind me.

Stopping to see what the commotion was all about, I turned.

It all happened so quick. The car was upon me and so was the freezing, dirty water from the blocked drain I stood next to.

“Tosser,” the boys and their toys hollered as the car sped away.

“Thanks a bloody lot, I got dry rot.” I shouted after their encircled hand gestures.

“You ok mate?” Someone asked.

He was an stout, dishevelled looking guy, dressed in a brown rain-mac, that he seemed to be holding together.

“I saw everything, I got their number, did you?” he said.

Funny that, but no. I was to busy thinking about laying naked on a warm beach, I thought.

“Do you want it?” he continued.

“No it fine, I don’t have time.” I replied.

“Are you sure, really sure? for a fiver its yours.” he said, grinning.

“Oh, ok give to me. I need a pee.” I replied handing him a damp five pound note.

As quick as the car had disappeared around the bend, the guy opened his mac revealing everything in its entirety beneath before he ran off down the road laughing. I half expected him to click his heels in the air as he went and the thought of being naked on a beach went after him.

“You get the number?” I heard him scream out In joy.

Oh well onwards and upwards. On second thoughts just onwards.

With my Stomach rumbling and breakfast not far away, onwards I went.

Two eggs, sunny side up. Beans and two rasher but hold the sausages, I thought.

The rain had stopped completely now and by way of a short cut, I decided to cut across the park. Or as known to the locals, Wino heaven.

Big mistake.

“Looking a bit damp there buster.”

You don’t say, and who the hell calls anyone buster?, I thought.

Mate yes, guv yes. but buster?

Maybe it wasn’t me he was speaking to, maybe his dog, I wondered.

“Got any spare cash buster?” he added.

Yup great, defiantly me.

“You speaking to me? oh whoopee, whoopee” I enquired.

“Well it ain’t me bloody dog is it buster,”

He petted the dog, who looked up at him with a ‘I need a meal dad’ look in his eyes.

“Na, can’t speak to me trusty ol’ friend loik th’t, na i’s can’t, can I boy?” he said, with an ‘I need a beer’ look in his eyes.

“So? got any spare cash or wh’t?” he asked again.

“No sorry, I have lorry.” I explained.

“What?”

“I don’t no, I really must though.”

“So you’s do?”

“No, I don’t, but I do in my coat.”

“You’s got some in ya coat then?”

“No, sod it but I do in my pocket.”

“Its in ya pocket then?”

I gave in, I couldn’t hold this conversation any longer. I could already smell the saus….bacon flying.

I wrestled to pull some loose change from my sodden pocket and held it out to him.

He looked at my open hand, up to me and back to my hand.

“Th’s all buster? one pound fifty” he asked.

“It’s all I have here, get your dog a beer.” I explained.

He looked back up at me with a look. A look I had already received today.

“You’s saying I mistreat me friend buster?” he said, angrily.

“No, no you got me wrong, but you really do pong.” I explained.

He stood up and was actually a bulk of a man fully erect.

Shit, don’t think of sausages, I thought .

It wasn’t until he towered above me that I noticed just how big and red his nose was, half hidden behind a thick ginger moustache.

“Here take this ok and you can lead a slay.” I said offering him a five pound note.

“You’s little skinny runt, I’ve a good mind to put you through a sausage machine,”

Shit, there it is again, I thought.

“and feed you to Prancer here.”

He was happy with the twenty I gave him.

Finally I got to the cafe, it was warm and the aroma of coffee and BACON filled the air.

I placed my order at the counter, took a seat by the window to watch the world go by as I tucked into good ol’da’s greasy joe.

Pushing my nearly empty plate aside, I sat sipping my coffee and contemplated my day, half listening to the goings on around me.

“Susie, you late.”

“Yes sorry I was out, couldn’t get a taxi and got soaked to the skin.”

“Well your here now, take this bill to the wet gent in the window will you.”

A piece of paper was slid across the table before me.

“Was everything ok with your breakfast?” a female voice asked, “you didn’t eat your sausages.”

I looked up to see runny makeup girl standing above me. Her smile turned stern.

I stared back to the bill and back to her as I dug one pound fifty from my pocket.

“It’s all I have, will you take a ten pence carrier bag?” I asked.

Outside a man in a mac was being chased by a hungry dog, followed by a Ginger moustached giant as a honking car drove by as its occupants shouted ‘Tosser’s.’















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