sea2

Terry looks up out of his bottle bottom glasses and tells you he's got sixty notes on Nounou at fives. It has to be worth a tenner. You bang it on with Haggis and get Pat and Big Bernard to join you, tenners each. Steve is trying to talk to you about someone who hit him with a hammer who might reappear on the scene and he's asking if "that mate of yours" can be employed to take care of matters. "Say the word Steve. It's a done deal." Come on Nounou you fucker, you're leaving it late. "They're the luckiest fuckers ever to be court martiled by the 'RA," says Pat and you nod in agreement because a .22 is the usual order of the day. "Come on, Nounou!" and the bastard's running like its arse is on fire but he's left it too late surely. Steve interjects to tell you about the times he used to get paid to take care of problems and you know he's into you for a few quid but you're going to let it ride because you know he's here with his missus and you don't want to show him up. Ray starts telling a story about something you did, some unpleasantness you were involved in, and he's got the wrong end of the stick. He's talking it up like it was last week but it was a couple of years ago. A nasty business. You won. The men at the table look at you and reckon you're a bad fucker and for now it serves to let them think so. "Come on , Nounou!!" He's left it too late. "Come on, you cunt!!" Photo finish but it looks bad. Turn away from the telly and Beranrd says he doesn't want to talk politics because he knows fuck-all but Ourselves Alone are fucking themselves over and then the SP comes on the screen and Nounou has won, the fucking wonderhorse, the giant, the God. "Ah, fuck the' RA. Go collect."