Me and billy #1

I'm amazed when i see people buying an autobiography in a book store. I have to ask myself, or rather i would like to ask the consumer Why do you give a shit about this persons life?. What makes someone want to find out about the where, why, what, when and who about someone they will never meet or know? Because the sad truth is; all these pretentious bastards that parade around on TV like they fell out of Gods rear end have lived lives that in truth are no more interesting than the one you have. You might not believe that, but it's true. In fact the person you sat next to on the tube or train or bus today has probably got a life that, if revealed, uncovers stories the likes of which you won't believe and would leave you begging for more.

The reason for this is simple; your average person knows that their life lacks public interest therefore they can get away with more than any politician or pop singer ever could. All around the world there are bank managers, bakers, nurses partaking in acts so depraved it doesn't bare thinking about. I would wager that on your street somewhere tonight there is someone, probably a person you've waved at every morning for ten years, laying in a bath of live fish surrounded by an electrified cage!....Don't just dismiss that as ridiculous, that's the same mistake people who get their kids molested by the local vicar do, or the governing bodies of a school who refuse to believe the caretaker is a child killing sex offender....then he kills two kids. The most interesting and bizarre people are not the ones whom you read about in OK or HEAT, these people are nothing more than sad attention seeking victims of a world where people are desperate to become a celebrity for no other reason than it's so fucking easy. In a way it's good, the more of these peoples lives are destroyed by stardom the better, in a way it's just speeding up what is normally a very slow and drawn out process and what's even better is we get to watch it happen in the papers and on telly, i mean what is the point of human suffering if you can't enjoy it?

We're confronted with poverty and famine from all over the world but we have the guilt to accompany that, a horrible feeling that deep down it's all our fault, we could stop it if we wanted but we'd rather say Oh that's awful though a mouth filled with steak and gravy before we turn instantly over to EastEnders and forget that those people even exist. However when we get to see someone suffer who asked for it, that feels good don't it? Is there anything more satisfying than seeing some pea brained piece of human scum beg for attention to the point that THEY even forget why people care about them? Of course not, you love it, which is why we let it happen so often. That's the whole point i guess, we don't improve anything in this world, we just learn to enjoy it. I like this notion personally, why try to take on the world or the system when we can just sit back a laugh as they kill us all? It's a very sadistic way of life but nonetheless it's one that allows to live safely in the knowledge that getting screwed and fucked over is so inevitable you may as well learn to love it, like a guy who decides not to fight his constant rapes in the shower at prison for he knows it'll ever stop. The Human Race has tapped out. We are the the true masochists of our own existence.

I sit here, my last night in Winchester after two very interesting and thought provoking years, in that time drug addictions have been cured, babies have needlessly died, people have bled, loved, hated, cried and learned more about each other and even less about themselves.

I am currently packing my stuff away into small boxes and bags, this is an experience that really brings a human being down to earth and makes you realise your own sense of insignificance, Why? Because you spend you life surrounded by your own material possessions that clutter up and fill a house with your own sense of character and individuality, but once you've compressed them into a variety of small brown cardboard cubes and placed them together it's almost sickening to behold how little space they actually take up on this wide and vast planet. my God! Is that all i own? What have i wasted my money on all these years? maybe i should start collecting fag butts and cocaine and speed wraps in order to have a much wider view of my own financial adventurousness, or maybe i should start buying useful shit that actually has more long term value, but where is the fun in that? I am a true victim of the grass is always greener syndrome, i 'll never forget the day I removed all my old coke wraps from behind my bed and quickly assessed that this double handful of paper i was holding could have sent me to university without the need of any form of loan or grant payments, i could have bought a car, a flat, i might have decided to have a holiday to some exotic country and flown first class, instead i sat in my room chain smoking with my barn owl sized eyes enjoying music, that most people who've undergone lobotomies would refuse to be subjected to. The sad truth however is had i in fact bought the holiday/car/house/education i would at some stage look at the money I'd spent on them and thought "Man i could have bought a shit load of coke with all that!" so i guess i was never gonna win.

The hardest part about moving is deciding what to throw out, this can take weeks in some cases. It's always easier to get rid of the stuff that costs nothing financially but emotionally can never be replaced. When i moved to Winchester two years ago it took me two days to ponder what i should discard, in the process i threw out clothes,cd's, dvd's, books and all manner of valuable goods, in their place was a six year old train ticket to Wigan, a piece of old wallpaper, a broken Biro, an empty packet of peanuts and most interestingly a 24 year old piece of nylon string had hung in our household toilet since we had arrived in 1979. It was hung from the light switch cord because my sister and i could not reach the damn thing and coming from a rather lazy family we decided to never take the string off, it hung there for 24 years and had seen all number of paint jobs, carpet fittings, even toilets and sinks pass it by, this string was the only thing in the house that had remained constant and when i heard my mother was putting it in the bin i simply could not allow it. The thought that in a quarter of century of my time in this house every single person who'd used our toilet had touched this string was fascinating, (writing this out i now realise why i get sickened looks when i tell people about this), to me it was a link to the past, the DNA of countless people were on this piece of cord and to throw it out was an insult to my heritage and my own very proud sense of nostalgia, this string had to come with me if for nothing else than a possible tool for scientists to use in order to clone beings from the past, this filthy piece of string was my equivalent to the mosquito encased in amber from Jurassic park and for the humans to have any chance of surviving it had to be preserved. I also took a gnome with no head.

Once you've settled on the pile of seemingly insignificant junk your gonna move house with, the rest is easy, just put all this crap in your drawers and never look at it again until you have to move house. I have just finished packing away the toilet string and other mindless and overly sentimental paraphernalia in a new set of boxes but there is something strange about this house move that differs from the last, i have accumulated absolutely no new pieces of sickening and pointless crap along the way. Why is this? Have i lost my sentimentality? Has my time in Winchester not conjured up the same need for nostalgia? Can you get nostalgic over two years of your life that moved so fast? I now see that this piece of string is in fact a symbol of how slow and without meaning my life was back in those first 24 years of my life in Kent, in truth the memories of my time there should have been enough and there shouldn't have been a desire for holding onto obscure childhood memories for the simple reason that i had nothing else to cling onto, if you persist in clinging on to the past the future will simply disappear into the distance before you get a chance to decide to let go. I can't remember when i let go but I have no problem in putting that dirty piece of string in the bin and leaving it be, knowing my luck there will be a nuclear war tomorrow and that string would come in bloody handy for repopulating the human race.But the odds on that are small so i won't dwell on that possibility however unnerving it may be.

Now some of you may be sat there now slightly worried about something you read a page and a bit ago and it's probably if I'm not mistaken the words babies have needlessly died. I would like to point out now that this scripture is not some weird confession of a sick paedophiles antics subtly thrown into some everyday psycho babble, that comes later. There are in fact two reasons for that statement but neither are really necessary at this moment in time so we'll move on.

"You witnessed a duck rape and did nothing about it?!" I asked my mate Jon.

"Well it's nature innit, you shouldn't get involved" He replied.

In many ways he's right, we shouldn't interfere with nature, but in another should we not interfere when we see crimes and injustice committed by animals?

What he witnessed was not just a rape, it was a gang rape! Two ducks forcefully taking a female duck against her will and giving her no choice but to submit to their horrid demands, this is their way, it's nature, so we don't get involved in any way.

Maybe that's how I can change the world and put some meaning back in my life, maybe i should start interfering with nature and stopping what is wrong regardless of the fact that it is natures way.

I have no idea how to start this quest but I'm sure a consumption of mind bending and adrenaline pro-pulsing drugs is the best way to start, so i ordered £50 worth of speed with the intention of bombing the lot as quickly as possible. I contacted Jim and placed my order, Jim is one of those old rockers from the days when rockers were rockers, the kind that never grew up. He used to have a friend whom he went to concerts with and the entire relationship was based on head butting each other, he had no teeth due to 27 years of speed consumption and a beard so long you were mesmerised by it so much he had become known in my circle as hypno-beard. He once took so much speed that he sat up for 14 straight days and slept for the following 6, he truly was one of those special breeds of human being and whether he would lived to see 40 is debatable but he would die knowing he never lost his youthful attitude, even if that meant he never really learnt the true wonder of getting old.

I received my speed through the post, a process that requires a lot of care and attention. You can't just send it because you run the risk of it being discovered by sniffer dogs and people trying to find anthrax sent by terrorists to no-name celebrities. Jim's wife Clare was a genius at this task, she would undo a tampax and place the speed in the centre of the tube, once it was in place she would reseal the packet and send it in a bubble wrap envelope, so if any curious post office clerk were to undo the parcel he would see nothing but an unopened tampax clearly being sent to a severely menstruating girl by a fussy and over-bearing mother.

When it arrived in the post i got very excited, like a five year old on Christmas morning running up and down the stairs like a humming bird with dysentery. I knew the next few days were going to be very intense.

The speed, however, would not be enough. It would give me energy and confidence to think and act without much consideration but i needed something that would give my mind an altered state, take me to a level of logic and thought and perception that i could not achieve with mere whizz, i needed some ketamine. I always used to say that i would never take a drug that was designed for animal that had a dick that was bigger than my own arm, but i say lots of things. My first experience with ketamine was when my friend James nearly died and ended up in hospital for over three weeks, we laughed when he got out. James was a bit of a coke-head and had gone to see his man to get a gram for a less than quiet night in, he had unfortunately gone to a dealer that clearly had very little organisation skills and instead gave him a gram of ketamine by accident, James being a bit of a coke fiend decided to do a gram line, which for anyone reading this who has the knowledge will know that a gram line is about two and a half to three feet long depending on the thickness. Now doing a gram of coke in one go is something that is risky even for the most discerning coke monster but a gram of ketamine is lethal! Having snorted the gram of ketamine James fell into a conscious coma, he was wide awake, shuddering and sweating like a pregnant nun, the look on his face was one that you see in classic horror films, imagine the look on Shelly Duvals face in The Shining when Jack Nicholson busts into the bathroom with his axe shouting "Here's Johnny", that's pretty much what James looked like. He went to hospital and woke up three days later looking like he'd had liver cancer for nearly a decade, his heart rate went up to 250 beats a minute and the doctor said it was a miracle he was still alive, like a true caring mate i bought him a small statue of a horse with the very sympathetic message "You Silly Twat" written on it.

Anyway I wanted some ketamine

OOOOHH YES! There it is, the tingle at the back of your head, the warmth running through your body, your foot starts tapping, your teeth start grinding, your penis shrivels up to the size of a treble A battery, it feels good, the speed has kicked in. The severe reduction of the penis is something that some men feel threatened by, and i have no idea what the female equivalent is, but in a way it's part of the charm of the drug. By reducing all men's genitals to that of a sexually underdeveloped bullfrog it removes all ego and arrogance from the male character, they have to focus on personality as they have nothing to boast about in the groin department.

I had to wait before i took the ketamine because i had to decide what the hell i was going to do and more importantly why i was going to do it. I thought for a second about what is considered to be the way it is, what is naturally uninspiring and unexciting but everyone accepts it, and for some reason the first words that came into my head were The Post Office. It made sense at the time and i think it still does, the post office a haven of disappointment. You only ever really go in there when you have to pay a bill, you have to que for ages surrounded by people, both workers and customers, who haven't got enough energy to manage half a smile and you are surrounded by baskets and shelves full of books and films that are so piss poor you wouldn't buy them if you'd had your brains removed. Have you ever bought, or seen someone buying a book/film from a post office? Have you ever run home from the post office to get some money and run back to buy some unimaginative piece of trash that some ball-less brain-dead wanker? NO, of course yo haven't because you have yet to be lobotomised. There is nothing that saps your soul more than the post office, therefore i decided i would try to make the post office a place people want to go to, a place that gave the people who visited and worked there a bit of hope and make them feel that there are still times in your life when you just don't know what's going to happen

I ran out of the house, i didn't want to but the speed gave me little choice, and made my way to Big Dave's house. Everybody should have a friend with the word BIG before their first name. I arrived at his house three minutes before i left my own and banged on his door.

"Dave! Open up I've got a great idea, Open the door you filthy child molester"

referring to your friends as paedophiles is always held in high regard, just above the phrase "You're Gay".

"Dave you dirty bummer open this door, like i opened your mum last night"

Dave's mum answered the door. She looked a bit upset, hopefully because she'd just discovered she'd lost her hearing that morning. I stared at her for what seemed like an eternity and actually considered fainting or hurling myself into oncoming traffic in order to break the nervy silence, luckily she did it for me.

"Are you looking for Dave?" she said with a sternness that could have galvanised a submarine. I paused for a second, trying to stay silent was a difficult task considering the amount of speed flowing through my system at this time and the chewing and sweating was making me look slightly maniacal.

"YES" I said with a small amount of urgency.

"Wait there" she said walking off.

I let out a huge sigh as she left, like i had just done the worlds biggest shit. Dave eventually arrived at the door in his shorts and no top on, he was a right tart even though he had man boobs (moobs as they are known). He also had blonde curtains which in the modern day context was about as unacceptable as a mullet or a flock of seagulls.

"Y'all right dude?" asked Dave, he used surfer language but with a council estate twang.

"No I'm not, What's your mum doing here?" I said slightly angrily

"She lives here" said Dave in that 'as a matter of fact' way

"I know that twat face but i thought she was out" i said

"Why?" He said

"I don't know but it's your fault!" I stated, almost putting a full stop and an exclamation mark on the conversation so i could move on to my next point.

"Anyway.." i continued "..are you busy today?"

"Have you taken something?" he asked inquisitively

"No, No, No...well a bit of speed" I couldn't hide it

"Dude it's 10:30 in the morning!"

"And?" I said as if it was the most normal thing on earth.

"We all like to indulge but have some restraint!" Dave said, which i thought this was a bit pot and kettle from the man who once drank a shot of Castrol GTX and had a shit in his mates pillow case cos he thought it would be a bit of a laugh, and in all fairness it was.

"

"Really" Dave said with a sense of derision.

"What does that mean?" I asked

"Is this like the time you phoned me to say Dave, I've just found a way of bringing peace to the world and it turned out you just needed a lift to Alton Towers?"

This was true, sometimes in the past I have told little white lies in order to get a lift somewhere, but in my opinion if you have a car you should expect to get used and lied to, but this was different.

"No this is for real, I need you to help me with the first part of my mission" I was almost begging at this point.

"OK, what is it?" Said Dave, i knew he'd cave in, in truth Dave is as shameless and puerile as I am and he also caves in under peer pressure very easily.

"Put your clothes on and get your car" i said

"I KNEW YOU JUST WANTED A LIFT" he said feeling slightly duped but with a smile that suggested he saw it coming.

"Shut up and get ready, I'm gonna make you famous" This statement might have been a bit grandiose but I felt this was the start of something quite remarkable.

Dave emerged from his house, he looks like the sort of bloke you'd see in one of those bland American teen flicks or in this country Big Brother, he was a helpless fashion victim but his intelligence and willingness to go along with my plans meant i would allow him this one slight discretion, after all we all have our vices don't we?

We got into Dave's car and as we buckled up our seatbelts he asked

"So where are we going?" and I replied with a cheesiness and machismo that you would find in one of those lame American cop films the kind you could only purchase in a Post Office for £2.99, which was ironic because...

"We're going to the post office man"

Having spent the ten minute car journey trying to convince Dave about my plan in making the post office a fun place to be and eventually even though he was still less than enthusiastic he agreed to go along with me. We pulled up in the car park and walked till we were outside the P.O. Dave looked at me and said,

"OK now what?"

This was a very good question, as i had absolutely no fucking clue. Maybe i should have thought about this a bit harder.

"Rich?" Dave asked

"Well we cheer them up don't we" i said in a way that suggested Dave was stupid to even ask, it's always good in an argument to try and put the onus on the other person.

"Yeah you said, but how?" Dave was clearly not falling for my ploy.

"I don't know"

Dave sighed and looked at me shaking his head. Then all of a sudden it came to me like a flash. Just behind Dave i saw a group of girls meeting up and as they converged together they all hugged, their smiles increasing as they did. It dawned on me that nothing cheers people up like a great big hug.

"We're gonna hug" them I exclaimed.

"What?" said Dave.

"Free hugs, nothing makes a person happier than getting a hug"

"Even if it's off a complete stranger, in a post office, whizzing off his tits at ten thirty?" Dave always looked on the negative.

"It's eleven, anyway you said you were up for this" I said.

"And what if we get in trouble? You've got a bag of speed on you."

"And some Ketamine" i said subtly under my breath.

"Ketamine!" Dave exclaimed with a volume that was not really appropriate for this time and place, several people looked around at him but failed to catch on to what we were talking about, or maybe they did and they just didn't care.

"Yes but would you please keep the noise down, we don't exactly look like your average fucking vets man"

Dave had a point though, if we were to get into trouble and the police arrived how would explain my narcotics collection in my back pocket, there was only one sensible and logical solution...

"You're gonna Take it all now!" Dave said.

We had made our way to the nearest pub that we knew would be dead at this time, The Beer cart Arms was one of those places that was seedy and yet safe at the same time, i knew we could indulge ourselves there. We were standing in the rather large male toilets which, like most good British pub toilets, stank of piss had a running tap and none of the doors had locks that were operable, it was perfect.

"Hey what are you complaining about it's your fault, you said we can't get caught with this stuff again" like before, i was trying to pass the buck onto Dave.

"Yeah...But" It worked i got the Bastard! He tried to continue but could not dig his way out of this grave of responsibility.

"I didn't mean take it all, i thought we could hide it" he said

"Where, in your arse?"

"You've done it before" said Dave.

What Dave was saying was not strictly true, i had once ended up with a 5 gram bag of coke inserted in my rectum but it was not voluntarily. I had passed out one day at my dealers and, during my unconsciousness, he'd got word that a police wagon was heading his way, in his panic he determined the only place in the whole house that the police would not be able to check was my tightly puckered and un-penetrated little anus. To this day I have no idea how i didn't wake up, but when i came to he was gone so i left feeling a bit sore. Can you imagine my surprise, when later that day, i went to the toilet and a five gram bag of coke fell out? The phrase "I don't remember eating that!" had never been more apt.

"I don't care, I'm doing it this way and you can't stop me" I said defiantly.

"Are you sure about this?" Dave sounded genuinely concerned.

"I'll be fine stop being such a tart!"

My nonchalant attitude was merely a ploy for the absolute and unbridled fear that was clutching my soul, the truth was i had never taken this volume of speed in one go but i was pretty confident that i would come through it. I made my way to the cubicle and told Dave to keep a look out while i bombed the speed.

For those of you who are not down with the drug user vocabulary the term bombing means to swallow, however with speed you can't swallow it straight down in it's raw form for the simple fact that it tastes like shit and it's very likely that you'll puke your toe nails up if you do, so it's best to wrap the powder up in a rizla paper and then swallow that. Now the problem i had was that i had at least 8 grams of speed left and to take it in normal sized bombs would take about half an hour, so i had to supersize the bombs, this nearly killed me before the speed even had a chance. The bombs were about the size of a decent sized marble and by the time i had to swallow the third one i was coughing up blood, two more later and i had finally consumed all the speed, i feared for Dave, in roughly thirty minutes i was going to be an animal that could not be controlled and, speaking of animals, i still had the ketamine.

Now what do i do with this, i can't take it and even if i did i could not take all of it, I've already explained what consuming a gram of ketamine can do to a person and even i have my limits, there was only one logical solution and i use the word logical very very loosely, the ketamine was in a tightly sealed plastic container which looked pretty strong and i was sure that would not break easily, so i took a deep breath and swallowed it down with a view to pooping/puking out at a later time and day. This was bigger than the five speed bombs I'd done and i was lucky not to choke to death, i was coughing and retching so hard my eyes felt like they were gonna explode, i was sweating more than i had ever in my life even more than when i used to play first to 200 games of squash down the gym, if i sweated any more i would end up as nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor with a small bag of ketamine hidden underneath.

I emerged from the cubicle looking like someone who'd just been revived from a knock out punch, my eyes were glazed and bloodshot and i looked like i might keel over at any minute.

"You OK?" asked Dave

"Yeah" i replied, but with an abruptness that made it sound more like very quick exhalation of air rather than a monosyllabic expression of confidence.

"You sure?" asked Dave

"Just give me a minute" I said as i leaned against the wash room sink. After a few deep breaths i felt ready and we exited the toilet.

As i left the toilet i suddenly felt this huge warm tingle hit me from my balls to the back of my neck, amazingly the speed was already kicking in. i looked and my watch only to discover that I'd been in that cubicle for nearly half an hour, which meant that the first bomb could be kicking in already, the wave hit me like a drawn out combination of an orgasm and pins and needles, I leant back and then bent double as if i was taking a bow at the Royal variety show.

"You alright Rich?" Dave sounded genuinely worried but i wasn't, not because i had no reason to be but because I was so overpowered by the speed that i could not comprehend the danger i was in.

I hadn't even told Dave that i had swallowed the ketamine, i didn't want to give him any other reason to worry. What you have to understand about Dave is that he is not a drug user, he's one of those poor unfortunates that is bought in by the media hype about the dangers of drug use, i have sat and talked him through many statistics and numbers and evidence that prove that narcotic drug use is not as dangerous as it is made out, but it was a lost cause. If i told Dave that I'd swallowed the ketamine he would just freak out and immediately call an ambulance and i didn't want that, i grabbed Dave by his T-shirt and pulled him closer to me.

"Dave this is our calling man, we are gonna step out of here and become heroes" I turned around and began to walk down the stairs in slow motion whilst my rant continued,

"One small step for man, one giant hug for mankind WOOOOOO!"

Dave was now looking very worried i could tell he wanted to say something to me but he knew i was now unstoppable and worst of all it wasn't gonna get any better.

"That moon landing never happened man i read that on the net, it was filmed in a studio in Twickenham, if you watch the footage you'll notice a cup'o'soup mug on top of one of the boulders, you can't land on the moon it's not even real it's made of spit" I ranted at the speed of sound.

I carried on with this mindless gibberish until i got to the bottom of the stairs when suddenly i started dancing, by the way there was no music. The Landlord looked a bit suspicious and with good reason, he'd just watch two guys go to the toilet for half an hour and one of them has come back ever so slightly chipper whilst the other is shaking his head in dismay, either he thinks we're on drugs or we're two gays who've partaken in a bit of cottaging and i was a lot more please with my performance than Dave was, i hope it's the former.

Dave sensed that we needed to get out and quickly, but before he could do anything i had wandered off and had was talking to a rather nice pair of old ladies whom id decided to try and sell Canterbury Cathedral to, they weren't really going for it even when i threw in my beanie hat i was wearing as a sweetener.

At this point something happened, something that only happens to people who have years of intense drug taking under their belt. I received a visit from Gerald, now other people have different names for this guy but mine was Gerald, he's what is known as "the sober voice", the man that pops up when i really need to be reminded of the severe canyon of trouble i am about to fall into. I could sense his chill of responsibility on the back of my neck as i stood there in front of these two bewildered old women,

"Hello Richard" He said, he speaks to you in the way a policeman who knows you're guilty does, combining pompous with patronising.

"What do you want man?" I responded to his presence like a thirteen year old boy who's just been caught masturbating.

"What are you doing?" He said cutting to the chase, that's his job, no small talk just the cold hard truth. My response was filled with sarcastic overtones but i knew that Gerald would not buy it.

"Duh, I'm trying to sell these two old women Canterbury Cathedral and I'm using my beanie hat as a deal breaker, is that a problem?" apparently it was, for Gerald was about to hit me with something that i did not even consider at the time in question, a fact that would cause more trouble and disruption than when Hitler decided to go to Poland for his holidays.

"Richard.." he was drawing out the suspense "...you didn't put a hat on this morning"

Oh Fuck!

"Are you sure?" I was desperately hoping that this was a wind up, after all it was April the first.....three months ago.

"Yep.." there was more "..you don't even own a hat"

Fucking Fuck!

"Well what the fuck is this thing in my fucking hand man?"

"Look to your left" Gerald said.

I couldn't do it, i knew that to my left was something that would change the outcome of the rest of my life, i felt like a parent being asked to verify that the corpse in front of them was in fact their child, i was terrified.

"Just tell me Gerald...Gerald?" He'd gone, the Bastard! That's what they do, they give you the dreadful truth and then piss off. I made a promise that i would twat him next time i saw him but right now i had more pressing issues at hand. I took a deep breath and looked to my left.

Fucking Fucking Fuck.

I now realised what Gerald was talking about, the hat in my hand was definitely not my hat, it wasn't even a beanie hat, it was a pink woollen crocheted bobble hat which belonged to the poor old sod who was sat in the chair to my left. She barely had a strawberry season left in her, a face like a walnut and glasses thicker than a monster truck tyre. She was going ever so slightly bald and the force with which i removed this bobble hat had caused what little hair she had left to stand completely on end, she now looked like a worn out troll doll with the early stages of ringworm.

I have no idea how long i stood there holding this hat in my hand but i knew it was long enough and i had to get out of this situation fast. I turned around and saw Dave staring at me looking ever so slightly pissed off, the landlord was in the background and was clearly becoming aware that something untoward was going down over here. It was time for action and in times like this there is only one course of action which is tried and tested to work.

"LEG IIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!" I probably did not need to shout this and certainly not at this volume but as you have probably gathered by now logic is not one of my better qualities.

I burst through the door as quickly as i could, I'd have dived through the window if I'd felt i could get away with it, but i was in enough trouble as it was. I had no thought for Dave behind me, i just wanted to get the fuck away from the place. I ran and ran as fast and as far as i could until i though i was a safe distance away that i could drop to a walking pace, i was not wanting to arouse suspicion but lets face it when your running at top speed with a pink bobble hat in your hand at 11:30 on a Monday morning you can't help but draw a little attention. Fortunately though we live in a world were "have a go heroes" are not so much a dying breed but extinct, i could probably run down the road with the head of a nun in my hand and people would just leave me be, you have to wonder what happened to "community". Not that i was really complaining that much at the time.

I was now in the main body of the town, i looked behind me and saw that Dave was nowhere to be seen, i must have ran so damn fast that he was lagging behind and couldn't keep up with me. I considered going back but it was too dangerous, it was best if i made my way back to the car and hope Dave showed up, which he would do eventually.

The speed had shifted gears on me and trying to look normal when you're on this much speed is taxing to say the very least but i tried. In order to put over this casual "I'm not on drugs and running from the law" persona i decided to put the bobble hat on, this would seem less unusual. It was a relatively tight fit but i went on and i continued down the street at a walking pace. Then all of a sudden i heard a yell coming from the road i had just run down, it could have been anyone or anything but i couldn't take any chances and ran down the street, in an attempt to hide i went into the first building i could find which happened to be a bakery, as soon as i got in there the place became like a western saloon, everybody stopped and stared at me, in hindsight this was kind of understandable, after all they had just witnessed a 25 year old man in a pink bobble hat run into the bakery and crouch down behind a stand of iced fingers, this is unusual behaviour in anyone's book. Then a sense of dread and paranoia ran through me, everyone in the bakery including the employees were old women, i stated thinking to myself "what if they recognise the hat? What if one of them knows this hat and makes the connection to the old woman?" if so then i had better leave before they get a good enough look at face and can make a positive identification to the police, what if they are part of an OAP Mafia and i wake up with a budgie head in my bed?, i was in grave danger and had to leave, i stood up adjusted my jacket straightened out my hat and walked out, as soon as i was around the corner i ran off.

I made it back to the car within the next ten minutes to find that Dave was not there, but someone else was or should i say something else was. A small ginger cat was perched on his bonnet and as i came round the corner he was staring at me, it was almost as if he knew i was coming. Maybe he was in with the old women? Could he have some sort of bobble hat detector that informed him of his owners plight? It sounds ludicrous, well it is ludicrous but i' have never trusted cats ever since i found out that male cats have up to eight people that think they own them, i also resent the fact that when you move house they stay, they are devious, sneaky little bastards who don't deserve feeding!

I approached with caution, he stared at me till i was standing in front of him.

"Who are you?" I asked, i was expecting an answer from him, my mind had been turned into jelly and i was so paranoid i was convinced this cat was involved with someone.

"Meow" he said, all innocent

"Don't give me that shit, do you have a name?" I said trying to take control

"Meooow" I had him rattled

"Vinnie hey? That's a good name" a bit of flattery is always good when dealing with an adversary, i continued the inquisition "and what are you doing on my car?"

"Meow Meow"

"How do you know it's not my car? Who are you with?" this was worst than i thought, the fucker had information he shouldn't have.

"Meow" he was backtracking, claiming he didn't know anything.

"Well you listen to me, you tell that silly old cow that she aint taking me down over a bobble hat, she'll have to knit another one ok?"

"Meooow"

"I know it's crocheted don't get lippy with me Vinnie" this bastard knew his stuff.

At that moment my phone rang, i looked at it a saw that it was Dave's number.

"Ha well Vinnie, if that is your real name, let's see what's really going on here shall we?"

I answered the phone but at no point took my eyes off Vinnie.

"What's up mate where are ya?" I asked

"I'm still in the pub" said Dave with a deliberation that suggested he was being watched over or forced into making this call.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know the pub"

"Yep"

"Well I'm still in it"

"Well why? How come you didn't run when i said so?" i asked

"I was gonna but that old woman stood in my way"

"Well why didn't you knock her over?" It was a serious question

"Look, she's threatening to call the police in, right, so if i were you I'd come back and bring the bobble hat with you, just give it back and apologise" Dave was thinking far too sensibly for my liking, i started pacing with anxiety.

"No way man, it's gone too far" i said, i was chewing and pacing now.

"What are you talking about? Look you've gone mental mate just please listen to a sane person for a second will ya? Come here and bring the hat please!"

Dave almost barked these orders at me, which just made me more determined.

I was no longer simply Richard, oh no, i was John Wayne getting ready to saddle up and ride in to save the damsel in distress, I was Butch and Sundance going out all guns blazing, I was John Maclane in Die Hard with a gun stuck to my back ready to blow Hans Gruber off the Nakatomi plaza, I was...

"RICHARD WAKE UP..." Dave brought me to my senses.

"Dave I've got an idea but you need to be ready, I'm getting you out of there!"

There was no talking me out of this.

"Richard just..."

I hung up. Now was the time for action.

"Vinnie, pay attention" I shouted, Vinnie had drifted off and was not paying attention.

"Meow"

"I'll tell you what, we have to get Dave out of the pub" I looked at Vinnie as if he should already be on the case.

"Meow...meow"

"I aint figured that out that" Vinnie's negativity was starting to get on my fucking nerves

(at this point I'd like to make it clear that I had no idea that having a conversation with a cat in public could be perceived as slightly mental, this is what drugs can do to you, so stay clear kids!)

Then I had an epiphany, and as it hit me i stared at Vinnie. His face dropped as if he knew what i was going to say.

"Meow"

"Yes"

"Meow"

"Oh yes"

"Meow"

"I can and i will"

"Meow"

"That's right, we're nicking his fucking car"

Vinnie's head hung in despair. He had good reason to feel this way for several reasons, 1) I had so much sulphate running through my body that my logic had evaporated completely, 2) I wasn't insured and 3) I can't actually drive and have never even sat in the front seat of a car. This last point was the biggest worry but the first obstacle that had to be overcome was actually getting into the car as I had no keys.

I tried yanking on the door handle but that failed, so i tried plan B....yanking on the door handle a bit harder but this time shout the words " Come on you fucker!", and when that failed i went to plan C which involved pacing up and down grumbling to myself.

I looked at Vinnie, i swear he was smirking at me. I found his attitude very unhelpful.

"ANY TIME YOU FEEL LIKE CONTRIBUTING FEEL FREE"

"Meow"

"WELL THAT'S VERY CONSTRUCTIVE! COME ON WE'RE ON BORROWED TIME HERE"

Vinnie looked to his left then looked back at me, he then looked to his left again and looked back at me again. He was clearly signalling to me.

I pointed to where he was looking...

"Over there?"

"Meow"

I went over and saw there was a loose paving stone, i crouched down and checked the stone to see if it would come free....

...The glass was all over the inside of the car and in retrospect i should probably have thrown the rock through the side window and not the windscreen. I sat on the drivers seat and let out a yelp as a large shard of glass pierced my left buttock. As i adjusted myself Vinnie jumped through the window and sat on the passenger seat...

"Meow"

"Yes I know but I wasn't thinking, you were the one who suggested it"

"Meow"

"Look.......Fuck off with your negative attitude Vinnie ok? Lets just do the job in hand"

"Meow" said Vinnie and he had a point but i knew something he didn't.

I reached under the seat and pulled out Dave's spare key, then waved it in Vinnie's face and pulled a smug face, i could tell,despite his efforts to hide it, that he was a little pissed off.

"Meow"

"Sorry?"

He just looked the other way...prick.

I pulled out my phone and rang Dave's number and told him I was on my way, he answered.

"Dave Listen.."

"WHERE ARE YOU? GET BACK HERE NOW AND SAY SORRY"

I sensed there was some tension in Dave's tone.

"Calm down I'm on my way, i'll be there any minute"

"Thank God for that" he said, sounding slightly relieved.

"Right this is what you need to do.."

"Woah woah what do you mean me?"

"Dave just listen I've got a plan it's all worked out"

"Oh Christ!" I could almost feel Dave's head sag with despondency .

"Meow"

"VINNIE WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"Who the fuck is Vinnie?" Asked Dave.

I was about to say that Vinnie is a talking cat I just met who suggested I put a brick through your car window, but i felt at the time that this would merely worry Dave further so i kept that to myself.

"Never mind just listen, in two minutes i'll pull up outside the pub..."

"Pull up?"

"Yeah and.."

"Pull up in fucking what?"

"I'm in your car, anyway.."

"WHAT? HOW D'YOU GET IN?"

"You'll see soon enough, look would you just shut up and listen, I have a meticulous plan which needs total concentration and to be conducted with absolute precision otherwise we're gonna be in even bigger trouble....OK?"

I could feel Dave turning red with anger, not only was he concerned about his safety but he was wondering what the fuck had happened to his car, I'm sure when i explained to him that it was all Vinnie's idea he would calm down.

"ok...what's this plan?"

"Right, I pull up outside the pub..." I now realised that this "precision plan" had one fundamental flaw, I didn't actually have one!

"Yeah then what..." asked Dave.

"...well once I'm outside the pub..."

"Yeah?" Dave said but he drew out it's pronunciation.

"...and once you have me in sight..."

"Right?"

"...Then you, and this is the important part..."

"You don't have a fucking clue do you?" said Dave in what I thought was a slightly defeatist way.

"...Yes I just wanna make sure you understand..."

"Well fucking get on with it then!"

"...All right don't hassle me! ok...Once I'm.."

"OUTSIDE THE PUB I DO WHAT?"

"You have no faith in me do you?"

"I'm gonna kill you!" he sounded very serious

"Oi, I'm about to save your bacon have a bit of respect!"

"I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't decided to go on a speed induced bobble hat robbery"

Dave had a point but this was not the time for a domestic.

"I'll be outside the pub in two minutes, and when i get there...you leg it out and get in the car" There it was, my master plan, flawless and bulletproof.

"(drawn out silence filled with tension)" said Dave

"You still there Dave?"

Vinnie started licking his testicles.

"Dude do you mind?" i said to Vinnie, at which point he looked up at me innocently and almost shrugged. Dave was still silent on the end of the end of the phone receiver.

"Dave? Are you there?" I asked

"Richard, come and get me" he said with a very deliberate calmness, each word was forcefully leaving his mouth with a subdued anger,

"then when you've done that, I'm going to kill you" The line went dead, either that or Dave had eaten his phone out of sheer fury.

I looked at Vinnie.

"You ready for this?"

"meow"

"Well tough shit, we're doing it anyway"

I started the car and revved the engine.

"Meow"

"Oh for God sake relax would you? Trust me it's all gonna be fine......."

"YOU STUPID FUCKING TWAT! YOU ABSOLUTE MORONIC CUNT FACED PENIS BRAINED TIT, FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING WANKER!"

Now there were several reasons for Dave to be berating me in this manner, it could be because I had left him hostage in a pub due my bobble hat larceny, it could be that i had removed the greater part of his windscreen with a large rock or it could be because i had made him run from the scene of the crime, but at this moment in time the real reason behind his verbal attack was due to the fact that I was, at that moment in time, driving his car a) without a license 2) well over the speed limit and D) down the wrong way of a one way street! Also it's worth pointing out that whilst i was being subjected to this vicious verbal assault Dave was in the process of strangling me, which quite frankly was making my task evermore difficult. Getting him out of the Pub had not been a problem due to the fact that he had followed my plan (remember the plan? The one that Dave and Vinnie had ridiculed, who was laughing now eh? Well not me cos i couldn't actually breath at this moment in time)</FONT>

"I KILL YA YOU BASTARD, FUCKING BASTARD!! PULL THE CAR OVER NOW!!!!"

I couldn't respond due to severe oxygen deprivation so i decided i would do exactly that.

I stopped the car in the first available space on the side of the road (roughly translated: The car happened to stop and end up in a area of the pavement where luckily there was a wall that brought the journey to an abrupt finish.)

The crash was not that severe but i felt that Dave was not willing to be as optimistic about it as I was. I stared forward, there was no way I was gonna look at Dave, my neck was frozen stiff like I was peeing in a urinal and the guy next to me John Holmes. Dave's silence worried me, he'd always taken these capers in good spirits but i was beginning to think that maybe this was a step too far, he'd ignored me in the past, the longest time being for two days after an unfortunate incident where I decided it would be a great idea to draw a "Hitler" moustache on his face...with a permanent marker...when he was waitering a function...on Remembrance Sunday...and he lost his job...I pissed myself.

I decided I would try to bridge the gap of tension with gesture, one that might offer Dave an out-reaching hand and also show him that despite all of this that I was his best friend and I cared for his well being, his sanity and more importantly for the future of our meaningful friendship...

"Y'all right Dave?" almost poetic isn't it?

After a huge sigh (when i say "huge" what I actually mean was "it was so large that had the windows been sealed we both would have suffocated from all the carbon dioxide in the car"), Dave responded in a way was shocking to say the least...

"Yeah"

He said this with such calmness that i was almost petrified, on the surface he was a sea of tranquillity but i just felt that any second now he would snap and I would end up having my testicles being pulled through my nipples.

"Sure?"

"Yeah"

"...um...sorry about that" I felt it was like the lease I could do "I'll help you pay for this" of course that last bit was bollocks but you have to say it don't you? Dave's insurance was paid by his parents so this would get fixed at no cost to him, in a way I'd taught him a important lesson about the value of insurance, technically he should be thanking me...but I'll let his silence speak volumes.

Then something interesting happened, Dave Looked up and stared into the rear-view mirror after a few seconds, in which he simply had a bemused look on his face, a smirk appeared on his face. It then gradually grew and all of a sudden he broke out into hysterical laughter, at first i thought that maybe the pressure of the day had got to him and he was in fact crying, but when i took a look in the back seat I saw what he was laughing at. Sat in the middle of the back-seat staring directly ahead was Vinnie wearing the old ladies bobble hat, Logic would dictate that the bumpy journey we had taken had from the pub had caused the hat to accidentally fall on his head, but I'd like to think that over the course of the afternoon Vinnie and myself had bonded in a way that to this day i couldn't understand, that we had developed a trust and in fact he'd somehow meant to put this hat on his head in order to create this light hearted moment thus taking the pressure of me and making Dave forget why he was pissed off. I looked at Vinnie and as he stared over to me I swear to God that he winked at me, I remember mumbling under my breath "you clever little bastard".

Dave was still laughing but it was beginning to quieten down now and i could see that Vinnie's plan had worked Dave was back to his usual chilled out self.

"You ok?" I asked.

"Yeah, what shall we do now?" I was amazed Dave wanted to carry on with this escapade, but in my mind I knew we had to call it quits at least for the day.

I was about to answer his question but then something happened...something very very very bad...and in an instant i knew I was about to be in a world of trouble.

During the laughter Dave and I were both sharing I suddenly stopped, not because i wanted to but because I could not physically move, my body stopped and in that second I realised what had happened and I knew I had to try to do something about it, but i couldn't. The ketamine pouch had burst and I now had two grams of the stuff flowing through my system on top of the ten grams of speed, now that is enough to kill an elephant and the last time i checked I had very little in comparison (very little if you know what I mean).

I was incapable of thinking now, in fact the rest of this section of the story is purely based on Dave's recollection of the events as i have no idea what happened. The ketamine was trying to knock me down but the speed kept pulling me back up, it was like i was involved in a tug-o-war between a giraffe and the worlds strongest midget and to the untrained eye I had the appearance of a zombie with tourettes syndrome. I could not speak properly, all I was doing was growling and moaning in a vain attempt to tell Dave to call an ambulance but it just came out as a drawn out groan combined with dribble. At first Dave thought I was mucking around but he soon realised what was occurring and knew he had to react fast, there was however a severe problem, Dave and I had just driven from a crime scene in a very recognisable and "unfit for the road" car and on top of that the doctors might inquire as to how i ended up with 12 grams of highly illegal substances in my system, the cons out weighed the pros and Dave decided to drag me into his house and attempt to make me "sweat" it out.

He ran around to my side of the car, opened the door and attempted to get me out, this was an act that had a strong resemblance to getting a toddler having a hissy fit into a pram. Dave grabbed me from behind and wrapped his arms around my chest and dragged me across the street to his front door, this took several minutes as i was flailing quite violently now and kept slipping from Dave's grasp. He was then presented with the challenge of trying to get the key in his front door whilst holding me, after several failed attempts he employed some tough love, well actually he laid me down on the floor and stood on my throat, which to be fair worked very effectively, however getting me in the door was a different kettle of fish, every time he tried to throw, yes throw, me in i put my arms up blocking the doorway, naturally frustrated Dave threw me to the floor, grabbed me by the collar and belt and propelled me torpedo style into the house, what Dave had not accounted for was that his dog would come running in the hallway at the same time and as he threw me forward i head butted the poor bastard. The dog ran off letting out a high pitched yelp but was not hurt, I, however, was quite the opposite, the force of the head butt had cut my head open and i could now add "bleeding" to my ever growing list of problems. Dave rushed in and quickly picked me up of the floor and attempted to drag me upstairs but suddenly he had to change plans quickly.

"Dave? Is that you?" Shouted Dave's Mother from upstairs

"OH FUCK!" exclaimed Dave, a sentiment i probably would have concurred with had i had the ability to move, speak or think.

Dave dragged me back down the stairs and desperately tried to think of a place to hide me but to no avail.

"Dave?" She shouted again, in a tone that demanded an answer.

"Yeah it's me?" Said Dave with a tremor of worry in his voice.

"What's going on? Why did the dog make that noise?"

Dave was panicking now, he tried to think but the pressure was too much.

"Um....don't know...I think i stepped on his tail" Said Dave, there was however one slight problem with that excuse...

"The dog doesn't have a tail"

...and that was it, Dave's dog was a Boxer which meant in order to step on his tail he would have had to kick the dog up the arse.

"Yeah" said Dave and it was well put i thought.

Dave then heard rumblings from upstairs which signalled that his mother was coming down stairs. There was nothing Dave could do and before he knew it his mother was at the top of the stairs and presented with the image of her son holding up his best mate who was bleeding all over the carpet.

"What the HELL is going on here?" she asked and to be honest i don't think telling her the truth was the best idea at that moment in time, so using his quickness of mind Dave came up with a foolproof answer...

"Nothing mum" foolproof, in the sense that it proved Dave was a fool.

Dave's mother walked down the stairs with a concerned look on her face, the fact that Dave had attempted to hide this from her lead her to immediately determine that we were up to no good.

"What's happened to him?" she said in a slightly less than sympathetic tone.

"He fell...and hit his head...on...a door...in...Tescos " Dave was not exactly James Bond when it came to half-truths.

"What is going on David?!" She said this as more of a statement than a question really and she called him"David" which meant the shit was ready to hit the fan. At this point i partially began to come round and started groaning loudly whilst rolling my head round.

"Is he on drugs?" she asked

"NO, no no no no no no no no no no no no no" said Dave using fourteen more no's than were really necessary.

"Get him to a hospital and out of this house now!"

At this point I did something that the situation could probably have done without, as Dave's mother stood there in her dressing gown and pointing at the door my body decided that it was carrying a bit too much liquid in it's system and thought it would be conducive to my health that it remove some. In other words i chundered all over Dave's mum! It was a good chunder as well, proper projectile. To make matters slightly worst the cellophane which had the ketamine inside had come up too and decided to land on Dave's mother's nose. Apparently Dave really had to stop himself from bursting into tears with laughter.

His mother let out a slight yell, the kind you might hear if she was about to be raped by a silverback gorilla and ran upstairs, Dave then dropped me and i hit my head on the small chest of drawers in the hallway simultaneously smashing his parents wedding photo...all in all it rounded off a perfectly inappropriate day. At this stage i remember looking up the stairs and seeing Dave's mother thinking to myself...

"Fucking hell, she's alright!"

But in retrospect if you want to have a chance at scoring with your best mates mum it's best not to call her a whore, her son a paedophile, smash up his car, head butt the dog, vomit on her face, bleed on the carpet and smash her wedding photo...at least not in one afternoon.

This is the last thing i remember because I passed out at this point.

The next thing i remember was waking up and being greeted with this awful smell.....

Where was I? What day was it? How did i get here? What was that smell?

I had no answers to any of them. All i knew was that I felt funny, not in a good way but in a way that suggested that once all the facts came flooding back I would be in for a major shame attack.

Wait.

"Um"

Wait.

"Uh"

Wait.

"Oh Noooo!"

There it is. All the events of the previous day came flooding back, i decided i would buy Dave's mum some flowers, yeah, that should make up for it. But hold on, was that the previous day? I had no idea. But first things first, where the hell was I?

I knew i wasn't standing, I was definitely laying down on something hard and cold, i was also concerned about the rancid smell that was overpowering my senses. I was close to being sick. I sat up and realised immediately what had happened to me.

I was laying in a bath, which explained the cold hard surface, but it was what the bath was filled with that i found more of a cause for concern. Clearly I'd been a victim to a practical joke which I had invented. It's called a "hangover bath", you take one passed out party goer and place them in the house bath, you then add the bodily fluids e.g. Piss, puke and sometimes shit of whoever needs to relieve themselves. It's incredibly cruel, disgusting and dangerous but it is very funny and i had no real cause to complain as i had administered this prank countless times with little, sorry, No regret whatsoever.

I got out of the bath with chunks of someone else's vomit stuck in my hair and once i was standing i tilted my head and emptied my ears of the random persons piss they were filled with.

A quick glance around and i knew where i was, i was round Darren's, i did not really now him personally but he was a friend of my mate Adam, which meant Adam must be in the house somewhere.

Adam was short, long haired but balding (mini-hogan we call him), thoroughly un-pc bloke with a penchant for getting his over-sized willy with monotonous regularity. He lived in a council house that was more like a quasi shanty house in a run down hamlet called Sittingbourne. There had clearly been a house party because every vessel in each room was filled with cigarette butts and there were empty cans in every corner.

I had determined where i was, but i still had no idea how I'd got there and what day it was. As i walked into the hallway i saw my first signs of life...sort of. Laying on his back in the hallway was the legendary Three-pint Pete, so called for his inability to hold his drink. Pete was the first victim of the "hangover bath" and I was positive that he'd been party to placing me in my own device of sickness, revenge had to be administered and seeing him on his back I couldn't help myself, I took my cock out and pissed all over his face but in typical Pete style he didn't move a muscle and carried on snoring through the whole thing. I needed and shit but resisted the urge to subject Pete to that as i thought even by my standards that was too far. I also knew there was no point in attempting to wake Pete and ask him what day it was, mainly because he would not wake up even if i was to finger his cock but also for the fact that Pete never knew what day it was anyway, it's not uncommon for Pete to ask "What day is it?" at least four or five times a day, there have been several reasons for put forward as to why this is true, if you ask Pete he'll tell you that three years ago he dropped some acid and lost four days of his life which has left his natural body clock completely out of sync with reality, if you ask me, or anyone else for that matter, they'll say it's because he's a complete fucking idiot with an IQ comparable to to a pile of dried out slugs...Fuck it, i thought, i'll shit on him anyway!

Having wiped my arse on Pete's socks I ventured upstairs in order to try and find some other form of human life.

The stairs were creaking as I placed my feet on them, as each creak was made i clinched my teeth in that way you do when you don't want to make any noise, i did not want to wake anyone in the house as it would interfere with my plans...what plans you ask? You'll see.

I reached the top of the stairs and stood on the landing, there were four bedroom doors, i suddenly had a dying urge for a piss but realised that they had no upstairs toilet, fucking savages. I must have been unconscious for a while because it had only been five minutes since I'd pissed on Pete, I looked downstairs and saw the poor bastard smothered in my piss and shit, I felt a bit guilty but then after several seconds thought i decided i didn't. The urge to piss suddenly hit me again and i bent over double in pain, I couldn't hold it in any more and ran into the first room I could. I'd chosen the room in front of the stairs on the scientific basis that I was facing it at the time, the room was dark but i could tell that no-one was in there, the small window in the room on the opposing wall had the light of the full moon shining through it. The room was very cluttered and i kept tripping over and stumbling as i desperately searched for a makeshift toilet, I was about to burst, I'd have pissed on the grave of a dead nun had it been available, I felt around and finally found a vessel that would be capable of holding the tsunami of urine that was about to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world, if I'd left it any longer my cock would have taken my trousers off on it's own, when i finally got the old chap out it was puffed up and turning blue like someone who holds their breath for too long, I shoved it in the vessel and it shot out at a speed that could shatter any land speed record in existence, i felt like i was having the worlds best orgasm, at one point i thought i was going to scream my own name out in ecstasy. When I'd finally finished i was actually sweating and breathing heavily, i thought for a moment that I'd travelled through time. I pulled my trousers up and got my bearings, my head was spinning and i felt so dizzy i thought i might pass out. I finally found the switch and turned the lights on, the brightness hurt my eyes and i clenched them tight shut. I finally opened them and the first thing i saw was the clock on the wall which read 3:28, i still didn't know what day it was though. I then looked on the floor and quickly wished i hadn't, I now realised what I'd pissed in.

"Oh fuck" which to be fair was an understatement.

""Oh fucking fuck" This one was a bit closer but, truth be told, in comparison to what I'd just done it would have been better if I'd glued my japs eye shut and pissed out of my arse.

I had to think fast and knew that the only course of action was to find Adam and get him to help me, after he's called me a twat and stopped laughing.

I left the room and took a sneaky peek in the room next door, Adam wasn't there so i shut the door again, as i went to shut it the hinges started creaking and i didn't want anyone to wake up, by some miracle of God whomever was in the room let out a rip roaring fart which was long enough and loud enough for me to shut the door without disturbing anyone, hopefully God would stick around and help me through the rest of this ordeal.

The next room I looked in had several people in it, it was hard to make out clearly but i estimated that there were at least six people in this room, three were on the bed and the others were scattered liberally all over the place, there was also a musky smell in the air the kind that suggests one of only two things had been happening in this room; sex or an intense game of British bulldog, call me a pervert but i suspected the former was the case. This sort of activity was something Darren's parties were notorious for due to the fact that virtually all of Darren's female friends were very open-minded, accommodating and liberal girls,the kind that in the good old days before political correction infected our vocabulary were simply called "sluts" or as Darren referred to them "hand extensions" (for those who don't understand that I'll let you figure it out for yourself and allow you the wonder of bit of innocence you have left).

A quick survey of the room brought me to the conclusion that there were three girls and three blokes in this particular den of debauchery, it's a shame they don't legalise prostitution in this country, that way maybe these girls would one day escape from the futile desolation of their existence, I don't want to sound patronising here but i do feel that their names didn't help the cause, let's face it if you are born into a working class council estate and your name is "Candice", "Chantell" or "Cherise" then you don't have a hope in hell! So i advise any potential parents to give your kid a name that commands a bit of respect, when was the last time you heard of a respected and decent member of the public called "Crystal", "Stacey" or "Chloe"? Exactly there aren't any, call your child "Prudence" "Charity" or "Gwyneth", then the poor bastard's got a fighting chance.

I found Adam, he was in the foetal position next to the cupboard in the corner. To get to him i had step over someone else who was prostrate in a not very dignified position in front of him. I crept over them and crouched over Adam, i then reached for the nearest pair of soiled underpants and rolled them over my fist so the worn gusset was facing outwards, i then positioned my hand in front of Adam's face and shook his shoulder, as soon as his eyes opened and acknowledged my presence i moved up to his ear and whispered very sternly,

"Say a word and i shove these pants in your gob!" Not something i can imagine either of the Krays saying...well Ronnie might have said it once or twice, but either way it was very effective. I motioned to Adam to get up and follow me out of the room which he did, once in the hallway I shut the door.

"You fucking stink!" said Adam, which was an understatement.

"Oh you don't say and I wonder why that is!"

"I don't know" he said almost believably but not quite enough.

"Bet you don't"

"Seriously I don't, I aint seen you all night, you went to the toilet at ten o'clock last night and you never came out" he seemed really believable now.

"Did I say why I was going to the toilet?" I asked in a very concerned manner.

"No, you just ran in there and locked the door"

At that moment I had what you might refer to as a moment of clarity, the door was locked when i left the bathroom but in my semi-concious i had not really paid any attention to this fact. That means the piss and vomit i was coated in was actually my own, which also means....Oh cock!.....

"What did you that for?" Adam asked as we both glared down at Pete's pooh coated body.

"I thought...it'd be a laugh"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha" Adam had a certain witches cackle to his laugh which was rather infectious so I joined him.

Once the laughter had subsided Adam reminded me of my previous and more important dilemma.

"Is this why you woke me up?"

It wasn't and now I had to face up to the reality of the situation.

"Come with me" I said whilst looking around as if there was a chance we were being watched.

Adam and I entered the bedroom where I had committed the most dreadful of crimes.

"What's the problem?" Asked Adam as he surveyed the room.

"This" I pointed to the floor.

"What that?" asked Adam who also pointed to the same spot.

"Yep" i was still pointing, we looked like a couple of guys you find in catalogues who randomly point at things whilst wearing their pants.

Adam went over to the offending area and picked up my makeshift

piss-pot.

"Look inside" i said and then i scrunched my face up in the hope that it would make time go back...it failed in doing so.

Adam looked inside and his face dropped with shock.

"Oh shit, you didn't"

But I had, and now we had to sort this out.

Adam held the urn that contained Darren's Grand fathers ashes (+ plus my pee) and stared at them like it was some perverted magic eye picture.

I just looked at the floor like a kid outside the Headmasters office. I'm rarely lost for words, as is Adam, but in these circumstances we were a trifle perplexed as to how to break this silence. Adam broke the ice...#

"It Looks like grey weetabix" It was a good start.

"Well maybe we should replace the contents with some Shredded Wheat and hope he doesn't notice" (Don't worry, I am being sarcastic)

"Don't get shitty with me, I'm not the one that's just diluted the incinerated corpse of my mates Grand dad with his own piss" Adam had a point, but i was still determined to pass the blame onto someone.

"What the fuck is it doing in here the floor?" Yeah, Right-on, Good point I thought.

"He put it in here so it didn't get knocked of the mantle-piece and smashed" Adam said.

"Lot of fucking good that was then, He may as well have flushed them down the bog. How was i supposed to know they were in here for God's sake?" Another good point, get in, I am Johnny Cochrane.

"Open the door" Adam said.

"Why?"

"Open it"

I opened the door and looked on it's other side.......Oh Cocking Hell!

On it was a hand written sign that read:

DO NOT ENTER THIS ROOM, PRESCIOUS BELONGINGS IN HERE WHICH IF DAMAGED WILL LEAD ME TO DE-SKIN THE PERSON RESPONSIBLE. DARREN.

I was bang to rights now and it looked like i should make the most of my skin. I looked at the clock which read 3:50am. Right, time for action!

Down in the Kitchen we scooped the grey sludgy goo that was once Darren's elderly relative in to a bowl, it was like some pyromaniacs geriatric cannibalism cooking show. Adam was busy in the hallway having a piss on Pete's head, he didn't have to but Pete was closer to him than the toilet. Adam entered the kitchen and joined me in staring stupidly at the bowl of Granddad/Number 1 Milkshake that I had created, it was late and we were both completely fucked, our minds could not handle a dilemma this complex. Adam chipped in with a suggestion...

"What if we microwaved them?" (you may worry, no sarcasm)

"Adam this is not Wetherspoons for Christ's sake, we can't just nuke him for 2 minutes and hope he gets resurrected" I would have been a bit more cross with Adam, but it was our only idea, which meant only one thing...

"FUCKING HELL, HOW LONG DID YOU PUT HIM IN FOR ADAM?" the Kitchen was filled with steam, smoke and dried out ash. It was like a gas chamber but less fun. It was so bad i ran out of the kitchen and vomited all over Pete's hair, amazingly he had still not moved from the position in which i'd found him earlier but he was now starting to look like that guy in Robocop who drove his tank into the toxic waste.

Adam was in the garden coughing his arsehole up and opening the windows to get the smoke out of the house. We re-entered the kitchen and stared at the bowl again but this time even more stupidly, so much so i dribbled a bit. I thought on this occassion I'd beat Adam to the pointless and stupid silence breaker this time.....

"Bit fucked aint they?" I have no idea why i phrased this as a question.

"Seems so" he confirmed "it's gone all hard and crusty, Like dried out Weetabix"

"Would you stop the constant Weetabix similes"

"Can't we just replace the ashes?" Adam said with a bit too much comfort for my liking.

"Replace them? Do you happen to know anybody who would be willing to volunteer for the position of "Replacement Ashes", or shall we just incinerate some random old git?" I know I was not exactly being constructive but I was starting to worry. It was nearly 4:30am and we only had a matter of hours to get this sorted.

"Surely though any form of ashes are ashes?" Adam had a good point.

There was no reason that someone would twig the difference in types of ash that were in the jar. It was a good job that Adam suggested that when he did, i was seriously on the verge of suggesting we cremate Pete, I doubt he'd wake up anyway. There was only one question now, What shall we burn?.....

After stripping Pete naked and Roasting all his clothes in the garden, well I say "all" we did keep his socks on....his hands, we collected the big pile of ashes that had formed on the garden path and carried them into the kitchen.

As we walked through the back door and into the kitchen area Adam and I were having a chat, When we'd finished talking we faced forward....

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!!" We both exclaimed as we were greeted by a vertical, and slightly the worst for wear, Pete. He scared us so much that I fell over spilling the ashes from Pete's clothes all over the Kitchen, and even managing to coat Adam in some them.

"PETE YOU FUCKING ARSEHOLE!" I shouted from the floor, Pete looked about as confused and bewildered as any human being I'd ever seen. He was standing in the kitchen covered in a variety of Mine and Adam's bodily fluids and excretions, completely naked and wearing his socks on his hands, it's probably the most pathetic site I have ever seen in my life.

"What's goin' on?" he predictably asked.

"You're scaring the living fucking arse hair out of me, that's what's going on you screaming twat" I said, in a slightly lower volume so as not to wake anyone in the house, there are some situations you just don't want to get caught in and THIS moment was one of them, I'd rather have got caught wanking my dad off then have anyone see this scene.

Pete looked even more confused and almost seemed oblivious to the state he was in.

"What day is it?"

"OH FUCK OFF!" Adam and I both shouted.

"What are we gonna do now?" i asked Adam completely ignoring Pete.

"What the fuck has happened to me?" Pete asked, Adam and I decided to explain the horrible truth to him.

"Isn't it obvious Pete?" I said, Pete simply shook his head.

"How much did you drink Pete?" Adam asked

"I dunno do I" he looked down as if he was almost a shamed.

"Well no-one else is going to are they? Hmm? I would suggest from the state of you it was a fair few, eh?"

Pete shrugged.

"Pete look at yourself man" said Adam

"You've shit yourself, through your face!" I implied to him.

"You've puked up, in your hair!" added Adam.

"And you seem to have pissed..."

"Out your nose!" We said together.

"Do you now how incapable you have to be in order for shit and piss to come out of your head? Hmm?" I said and amazingly he was falling for it.

"can that happen then?" Pete asked.

"Oh yeah" confirmed Adam as I nodded to concur "Excessive alcohol can confuse the channels which bodily waste passes through, it's very rare but it can happen"

I added further " He's right, I bet if you were look at your arse you'd find snot coming out of it"

"And ear wax comes out you prick as well"

we both nodded again.

"What about the puke in my hair?" He asked with great concern.

"You'll probably start coughing up Dandruff soon, it comes out in big chunks like giant sugar cubes" I said.

"It's best actually that you go in the bath room now and to be on the safe side drink cup of shampoo to stop that happening" advised Adam.

At this point Adam and I were about to burst with laughter but somehow Pete just didn't twig it.

He scratched the back of his head with his sock adorned hand and started walking to the bathroom.

"All right then, i'll do that now" said Pete as walked past us.

"Oh before you drink the Shampoo have a bath, you'll see I've put some special lotions and oils in the bottom which should help redirect your waste tubes, Just add some hot water and you'll feel much better" I suggested.

Pete looked at Adam and I, smiled and nodded his head.

"Cheers guys, that's really nice, thanks" He said with genuine gratitude.

Adam and I both looked at Pete and nodded him off into the bathroom, he entered and the door shut.

We both unleashed the laughter we'd been holding in for the last two minutes and managed again to simultaneously say...

"You Fucking Thick Cunt" then pondered the ever increasing problem of these bloody ashes.

"Well there's nothing left to burn now, Have you got any Fags?" I asked

"You what? You're not suggesting that we smoke a Granddad's worth of of fag ash are you?" Adam was desperate for me to be joking.

"Adam it is nearly five o'clock, if we start now we can get it filled before he gets up" I said grabbing the urn and taking it into the front room with the intention of placing it between me and Adam on the sofa as we smoked ourselves to death.

45 minutes later and 18 fags between us so far, however the urn is nowhere near full and we only have another 26 ciggies to go. This is gonna be tight.

35 minutes more and now we have started to feel a tad queasy, Adam face looks like he's managed to develop body cancer and I feel like I've spent two hours orally pleasuring a camel.

"Where's Pete?" asked Adam whilst letting out a death rattle.

"Why?"

"I wanna throw up on him"

I had a thought "Hold on, didn't he go to the bathroom about an hour and a half ago?"

Adam pondered " Yeah he did actually, is he still in there?"

"Fucked if i know, he was a bit messy though weren't he?"

about thirty seconds silence passed.

"Shall we see if he's died?" asked Adam.

"Uh..........................................yeah all right" I said begrudgingly as we stood up and made our way to the bathroom.

However the amount of cigarettes we'd inhaled meant that it took about 5 days to reach the bathroom. We stood outside and tapped on the door.

"Pete, you in there?" I asked.

No answer.

Adam punched the door.

"PETE, YOU ALRIGHT?" he shouted

Still no answer.

"Shit, we gotta get this door down" I said, Looking to Adam for a good stiff kick.

He stared back clearly thinking that I was gonna do the Starsky and Hutch thing.

"What me?" I said incredulously.

"Well I can't do it" said Adam.

"Why?"

"I feel sick from those fags" he whined.

"Oh for fucks sake, GET BACK!" i shouted as i took a steady run up from the back of the kitchen.

As I approached the door my speed picked up and just as the collision was imminent...Pete opened the fucking door! As a result I carried on at my top speed and fell arse over head into the bath with the horrid and sickening water in it. I managed somehow to land sitting up and I'm sure if you'd seen it you would have been impressed.

I looked at Pete with the same look you might give a known paedophile.

"D'you have a nice bath Pete?" I asked as calmly as my soul would allow.

"S'alright yeah" he said as if nothing had happened.

"Good, I'm glad........well done.......I think i'll get out now" I said as I stood up soaked to the skin in skanky mouldy water, and made my way out the door which i shut behind me.

I looked at Adams impish little face creasing up slowly.

"You make one fucking noise, seriously, you breath loudly and you die" I only half meant this.

On our way back to the sofa to continue our smokers suicide pact I suddenly heard a noise from upstairs, It was the sound of feet getting out of bed.

"Oh fucking hell, Darren's coming downstairs!" I said urgently to Adam, as we ran into the living room to try and hide the urn and then distract Darren.

Darren sloped down the stairs very slowly which was good, eventually he appeared at the living room entrance looking a bit bleary eyed, until he looked into the living room and saw me and Adam.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Darren asked.

Not really an unreasonable question when you are confronted by the sight of two of your good friends in your living room at 6:00am stark bollock naked! However we had to act as naturally as we could about the situation and carry as per.

"DARREN" Adam and said with our arms up in the air like an old Italian welcoming customers into his shop.

"What's going on here?" he asked, it was a good question so it required a good answer, and it got one.

"Well..." I said buying for time " Adam and I were about to play a game" Now i realise that sounded a trifle dodgy but we had to run with it. I looked at Adam and he nodded in agreement with me.

"Oh yeah? Go on..." said Darren encouragingly, he was now intrigued and seemingly wanted to get involved.

"Uh...it's called..." I was struggling but somehow despite all his failures so far Adam came up with possibly the best Idea he's ever had.

There are some moments in life when greatness and genius are responsible for ground breaking and innovative creations, but sometimes they fall in your lap and you never see it coming, this particular example was the latter. In a split second Adam managed to create a new and exciting game entitled...

"PORNO DARTS!" He exclaimed and with justified pride because it was a game that turned out to be pure unadulterated magic.

Darren looked to his right and slowly nodded his head and without much thought asked...

"Can I play?"

Me and Adam were taken back by his enthusiasm but were more than grateful for him to contend.

"Yeah, if you want" I said beckoning him in.

As he removed his dressing gown and underpants and joined Adam and I in the centre of the living room Adam found a tape from the house porn stash.

"So what are the rules?" he asked with an eagerness that was not normal for that time of day.

"Right it's simple..." I said over confidently "...we put this porn tape in and press play"

Adam was now on fire with ideas and interjected. I wished he hadn't.

"Then all three of us face the telly and start wanking" he said.

I fixed him with an evil glare as if to say "Prick!" and then took over from him.

"Yeah, and as we wank...right...when we are about to shoot, we press pause on the video...and...uh...whatever picture it freezes on is your "dartboard", and you get points for hitting the woman in what are referred to as "Hot points", the amount of points are determined by the difficulty of the target. Once you've shot and your "hits" have been noted you press play and the other two carry on in the same fashion until we are all finished......that's it" Now some uptight people who are reading this story might be absolutely appalled by the perversion involved in this game and are questioning my standards and morals, but I know and you know that every bloke reading this has just decided that he wants to hold a PORNO DARTS! (copyright 2006) tournament in his front room next Tuesday after work..........judge no lest ye be judged my friends.

Adam held up the control for the video and we stood in a line poised and positioned for take off. On a side note, if you're playing this game at home (wink wink) and one of the contestants begins before it's officially started then they must take three steps back from the telly as a penalty, so if you are not particularly impressive in terms of the range of your ejaculations make sure you pay attention and follow the rules.

Adam held the remote in the air, the crowd went silent, you could cut the tension with a knife.

"1......." Adam began the countdown "2..............." our grips tightened and buttocks clenched "............and....3"

(The contest will now be described out of character and in the style of Murray Walker)

And there off! As they begin you can see the intensity on these men's faces is that which cannot be described in mere words. As they focus their minds on the TV which is displaying the PD! Board Committee approved Film "Cream My Ringer" you can tell that these men are by far and away the top of the POPSHOTS!

Adam "3rd Leg" Clemons is currently ahead in terms of firmness and rapid growth, he's definitely carrying the most weight in this contest and the extra length will move him closer to the target, but you get no points for size in this game, it's what you do with it that counts.

Darren "King of the Gubes" certainly has a style that you would consider unorthodox using the rarely seen thumb and little finger method, he also combines each movement with a little jump which he claims gives him a higher speed and actually lessens friction, he is truly one of the games great innovators and the only ever Ginger man to compete at this level.

Finally in the middle, you're looking at the man they call "Ronnie Corbett's Stunt Cock" The Living PD! legend known as Richard "The Friction Burned, Dead Eyed , Purple Headed Trouser Smurf" Coughlan. He's not the biggest cock in the fight, he's not the biggest cock in the game, in fact you'd have to travel very far down the food chain in order to find a species which isn't bigger than him. But that matters not in this arena. He's a true icon of PD!, Richard has a strict training regime which he has maintained religiously for 15 years and a passion for the game that no-one could exceed. Boxing had Ali, Football had Pele, Tennis had Becker and PD! has Coughlan.

As the game moves so does the pace, Adam is going hell for leather but his increased length and girth means he has to be careful not to tire his arm out too early, that's what happened last week at when he was defeated in the semis of the Yorkshire Open Tournament by the Russian entrant "The Crusty Rusky" Vladimir Yankov, BUT LOOK AT THIS, Darren, who we know has tendency to be unpredictable, has put his cock in his elbow crevice and is humping his own arm, HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THAT? This man is a true entertainer, the fans are going crazy for him. Adam is clearly rattled by this and the sweat is exploding out of his body, he's now supporting his wanking arm with his other arm and that is a text book sign of weakness in this game, WHEN WILL ADAM LEARN TO PACE HIMSELF?

Richard has remained very unflappable throughout and is maintaining the pace but he's clearly having trouble "on the solid" shall we say. We understand he is currently under the influence of an amphetamine based drug and this could be effecting his ability to perform. Remember drugs are legal in PD! as they are not considered to be "enhancing" in any way.

HOLD ON LOOK AT THIS, Adam has found a second wind and is now motoring away with unfathomable pace, HE'S REACHING FOR THE CONTROL, HE'S TAKING AIM, HE HITS THE PAUSE BUTTON AND HE SHOOOOOOOOOTS, THE SCREEN IS DOUSED AND ADAM HAS MANAGED TO "PULL OFF" A GREAT RESULT THERE, HE HIT THE WOMAN ON SCREEN DIRECTLY IN THE EYE AND A SECONDARY LOAD IN HER BELLY BUTTON WHICH MEANS ADAM SCORES 50 POINTS! Darren and Richard have it all to do now.

Darren has reverted back to a more traditional method and seems to be all business here, Richard is giving it his all but he's still stuck on the soft and if he doesn't get going soon this could embarrassing for the worlds #1 AND DARREN IS TAKING HIS POSITION AND HOLDING THE REMOTE IN ANTICIPATION, HE HIT'S THE BUTTON AND HE'S GONNA....OHHHHHH MYYYY GOOOOODDDDDD!!! WHAT A PIECE OF INDIVIDUAL BRILLIANCE THAT WAS, HE TOOK AIM AND AT THE LAST MINUTE DROPPED TO HIS KNEES AND INCREASED THE ANGLE OF HIS COCK SO IT WAS VIRTUALLY FACING UP AND THE ELEVATION AND ACCURACY WAS EXTRAORDINARY....looking at the glazed TV screen we see that he has hit two different women in the arsehole at the same time whilst they were in a 69 position. Ladies and Gents clap your hands together cos that was world-class and earns Darren a monstrous 120 points and puts all the pressure on Coughlan, He's not been at the races today and it will take a monumental effort to out do Darren's shot.

He's going and going with all he's got but does he have much left, the crowd are getting behind him now, they sense he needs them now, they need to be his 2nd hand....it seems to be working a bit, but it's a struggle and......hold on....I can't believe what I'm seeing here folks, Richard Coughlan has covered his eyes with his spare hand and is now unable to view the TV! I have never seen anything like this in my life...the crowd is in a stunned silence and his opponents look absolutely befuddled...but wait...some thing's happening...he's growing...and as he does his speed is increasing, I have no idea how he's managing this, clearly the thoughts in his head are much more arousing than what's on the screen, he is now really motoring and is clearly faster than Adam who is known as the fastest performer in the game...HE'S VISIBLY SHAKING NOW, HE LOOKS LIKE A CROSS BETWEEN A MAN AND A HUMMING BIRD...HAVING A WANK! SURELY THE END IS NIGH AS HE REACHES FOR THE CONTROL BUT KEEPS HIS EYES SHUT AS TIGHTLY AS POSSIBLE, HE CAN'T SEE THE CONTROL AND IS HAVING PROBLEMS FINDING IT AND HE'D BETTER HURRY...OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDD! HE JUST SHOT HIS LOAD AND PAUSED THE STATION AFTERWARDS AND THAT IS TRULY REMARKABLE!!! IT LOOKS LIKE A GOOD SHOT BUT NOT ENOUGH TO BEAT DARR...OH MY GOD HE JUST SHOT ANOTHER LOAD...AND ANOTHER THAT WAS BIGGER THAN THE FIRST, THE TV LOOKS LIKE AN ICED DOUGHNUT AND ONE MOOOOOORE!!! THAT'S FOUR LOADS IN ONE GO AND HE HAS COATED AND GLAZED THE SCREEN, HE DROPS TO THE FLOOR IN AN ABSOLUTE SWEATY AND BRIGHT RED MESS AS THE CROWD AND EVEN HIS OPPONENTS STAND AND APPLAUD THE MAN WHO IS SIMPLY THE BEST WE HAVE EVER SEEN IN THIS ARENA.

The judges have decided and it's a new world record of a staggering 1,250 points. Ladies and Gentlemen we have witnessed history here today and as Richard struggles to raise his hands in the air he dances around the living room, he now has a new nickname "Tardis Cock" he don't look like much on the outside but wait till you look inside and see what it has to offer.

That's all from me we'll see you next time on Porno Darts!

(Back to normality...or as close as we can be)

Now that whole ordeal might seem a trifle perverted to you....and you are probably well within your rights to think it. But at the end of the day one thing that cannot be said about these little box socials we have is that we don't know how to party. I need only gaze upon the shit an piss in the hallway which was coated over one of our friends, the semen drenched TV set in the living room and of course the microwaved Granddad which was somewhere in the kitchen, one things for sure we can do debauchery like no others and at the end of the day.....oh shit....the ashes!

In my excitement at winning the Porno Darts! Competition I had neglected to remember that the ashes were still in the kitchen, and worst still Darren was in there too!

"Adam, the ashes" I said in a hushed but frantic way.

I could tell that Adam had not realised the predicament we were in either.

"Oh fuck" he exclaimed.

As we hurried to get our clothes back on, which proved difficult as they had managed to form some sort of complex reef knot whilst laying on the carpet, we heard a noise denoted great foreboding to come.

"WHAT THE FUCK ALL THIS IN HERE?!"

Now I can only assume that Darren had found the urn on the floor, i secretly hoped that he'd just caught Pete having sex with an Ostrich in the kitchen but the odds on that were not really in my favour.

Adam and I desperately attempted to put our clothes back on and were seriously considering escaping out of the window and emigrating to Croatia, but our holiday plans were cut short by the sight of Darren walking the room clutching his Granddads urn.

"Everything all right mate?" Asked Adam in possibly the most guilty sounding voice i have ever heard.

"Why is my Grand Fathers urn down here and where are the ashes?" Darren asked rather sternly.

I've always prided myself on being able to talk my way out of everything, but i was fucked at this point. Adam looked lost too.

Then something magical happened, it seemed all night that me and Adam had shared some sort of telepathic bond, we'd continually thought and said the same thing at the same time all night, but this was possibly the most important case of mind reading that I'd ever been a part of. We both knew what to say.

"Who did this?" Darren asked again.

In unison we responded "Pete did it"

Darren looked a bit upset and Adam and I both knew it was a bit cruel, but when we searched the deepest recess' of our hearts we thought..

"Fuck it, it's only Pete"

"Where is he?" Darren asked

"He was in the bathroom when we last saw him" Adam said.

I nodded vigorously. All we wanted was for Darren to leave the room so we could quickly make an exit before he removed Pete's brain.

"He aint in there anymore, must be upstairs then"

Darren walked away before the end of the sentence and, very determinedly, went upstairs in search of Pete. As soon as he was out our view we slammed the door shut and locked it, we then took our places on the sofa and prepared for the mini riot that was about to ensue upstairs.

Adam and I turned to look at each other..

"Fucking got outta that one alright didn't we?" I asked in a rhetorical fashion.

"If all else fails.." started Adam.

"Blame Pete" we both finished.

Suddenly loud voices were heard from upstairs, it seemed that Darren had discovered the erstwhile Pete asleep in his room, not a good idea when you've just been in bath full of piss and vomit. Then several loud bangs were heard and it appeared that upstairs a mini version of the crusades were taking place.

"Good party man" i exclaimed

"Yeah, not as good as last months though"

"I weren't here last month, what happened?" I asked

"Bish caught Rosie having a wank on the bathroom floor covered in talcum powder"

"No way!"

"Rosie got such a shock that he slammed the door on Bish and cracked his head open and he went to hospital to get stitches!"

"Really?!"

Adam nodded.

After a few seconds of inane grinning me and Adam broke out into a Beavis and Butthead style laugh, which was accompanied by the sound of furniture rumbling upstairs and the desperate whimpers of Pete almost crying.

"Why was he wanking with talcum powder?" I asked in a sudden confusion.

"Probably cos he's fat"

"Good point, right I'm gonna have a piss and seeing as Pete's busy I'm gonna use the toilet this time"

I got up and left the room, as i walked past the stair case the shrieks from Darren's room were getting louder and louder and at one point i swear i heard Pete say "Not in my arse!" but i could have been mistaken.

I entered the bathroom which was starting to smell really bad from the body fluid Radox which still occupied it. I locked the door and walked over to the toilet and proceeded to have what felt like my seventh piss of the evening.

At which point something dawned on me, something confusing. You know those moments in films where the character has a moment of realisation and the camera slowly zooms in on them? Well this was one of those moments. These parties that Darren and Adam have are monthly and only happen on the last Friday of every month, which meant that it was Saturday. I went round Dave's on Monday! I'd taken the speed and ketamine on Monday! I'd passed out on Monday! Monday was FIVE days ago! WHAT THE FUCK HAD HAPPENED TO ME?! Suddenly a warm surge of concern rushed up my back and i started to panic. Could I really have lost a whole week of my life? How did I get here? What had i done in the last five days?

I finished pissing, turned my back on the toilet and sat on the floor with my back leant up against it. My head was in my hands trying to make sense of all this. Then things got even more bizarre....

"Hello Richard" said a voice behind me.

I lifted up my head and thought for a moment that I'd imagined it, or maybe Adam had said it from outside the door. Then it happened again.

"Hey Richard, behind you." it said again.

I turned around and nearly jumped out of my skin. I was so shocked that I bounced right up and and moved backwards to the opposing wall.

There, sat on the toilet seat lid.....was Vinnie! He was just gazing up at me with an intent stare. He tilted his head in the way cats do and spoke again.

"How are you?" he asked, as if this was the most normal situation in the world.

I just stared at him with a look of shock and confusion on my face, not because Vinnie was a very intimidating figure but because...IT'S A TALKING FUCKING CAT!

"You look a little bewildered if you don't mind me saying" he said, i didn't mind him saying and I was very bewildered.

However apart from the obvious issue of him being able to converse, there was something different about him, he seemed bigger and a bit more caricatured than when i last saw him, there was also something strangely similar about his voice, it was like i knew it from somewhere else but could not put my finger on it.

"Feeling a bit ill are we?" he asked.

"You could say that yeah" I tried to stay calm.

"Well, that's hardly surprising given the amount of happy juice you've been sucking on is it?"

I knew the voice, I'd heard it many times before but it was someone whom I'd never met before....

"Why have you got Jeremy Clarkson's voice?"

"Have I?" Vinnie asked all innocently like he had no idea, back to his sneaky ways again.

"Yes you have Vinnie, and how come you've only just started talking now, why not when we were destroying Dave's car?" I was now getting more aggressive towards him.

"You were the one who smashed up Dave's car, not me"

"It was your fucking idea pal"

"Please Richard do not swear at me it's not necessary , the reason I didn't talk the other day was because we were outside in the open, i can't very well go and start spouting off in public can i?"

He had a good point and I accepted his excuse but another query popped into my head.

"How d'you know i was here?"

There was a moments pause and Vinnie just stared at me. Then finally he spoke.

"There is something I have been instructed to tell you"

"Go on then"

"I am your case officer"

"My what?"

"Case officer, I in turn report to your controller"

"Wait hold on..." but Vinnie continued

"Your wife is not really your wife, she is an agent of interzone incorporated"

"Vinnie?"

"She is an elite core aquatic Brazilian centipede"

Then I lost it.

"STOP QUOTING LINES FROM NAKED LUNCH!!!"

"oh" he said, hanging his head in shame.

"yes "oh" I have seen it twelve times your not fooling anyone, get to the fucking point" he could sense my frustration and decided to stop playing for time.

"I followed you here" he said, which was a very sobering statement and made me calm down and crouch in front of him.

"You followed me?"

"Yes, and I've come to help you" he was starting to sound like Yoda now and I felt he was grand staging himself a bit too much.

"Oh really? How?"

"Do you know why you went to Dave's several days ago?" he asked, but in a way that suggested he already knew the answer.

"I was gonna go out and try to do something..."

"What exactly?" he asked

"...i was gonna try to change the world...and make a difference"

There was a moments pause, then Vinnie drew his conclusion.

"Pissed that one up didn't you?"

It was a valid and fair evaluation.

"Well, i suppose i did, but what's all that gotta do with anything? Why have you been following me, and where have I been over the last week?"

"That I cannot answer" he was back in Yoda mode.

"Oh fuck off Vin, you helped get me into this shit..."

"...and I'm gonna help get you out, but in order for that to happen you have to listen to me" he was being deliberately calm now and it was pissing me off even more.

"OK! I'm listening, you may enlighten me" I crossed my legs, lit a fag and sat still for his pleasure.

"In order for you to achieve your goals and work out where you're going, you need to work out where you've been"

"Just get to the point and spare me the Guardian cryptic crossword horse shit please" I demanded.

"Shut up and pay attention" he raised his voice for the first time ever and it took me quite by surprise. He continued.

"I can't tell you anything, i can only lead you the right way, but the first thing you have to do is find out where you've been since Monday, then you will figure it out"

I still was not convinced by this.

"OK then Saint Vinnie, if you know so much then prove it"

"What do you mean?" He asked

"Prove to me that your up on things here mofo, you know down with the 411 bitch" I was getting cocky thinking I'd called his bluff but then he totally threw me.

"I NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL IT'S RIGHT IN THERE!" He shouted at the top of his voice. I backed off not sure about what was going on.

"What are you talking about?"

Suddenly there was a huge noise coming from the front of the house, I turned around and looked back, Vinnie had gone.

"Vinnie? Where are you? Vinnie?"

I heard Adam yell.

"Richard Come quick" He shouted

I unlocked the door and ran out to see what the fuck was going on.

On entering the living room I saw Adam looking out of the front window, pointing at the ground and laughing. I went over to inspect the source of his merriment and in doing so ended up joining him. The fight between Darren and Pete had culminated in Darren throwing Pete out of the top floor window and sending him crashing into to nice, supportive and spongy arms of a rose bush. He was still naked and appeared to be in severe agony but this did not stop Adam and I in mocking him even though this was technically speaking all our fault. But our guilt was kicking in and we decided the nicest thing to do would be to offer some sort of fellow feeling.

"Y'all right Pete?" I asked

He responded in a way that cannot be written down in mere words, it was a noise cocktail comprising of 1 part wookie, 1 part deaf kid and 1 part castrated Geordie. He was trying to tell us something but in his pain we could not make out the strained whimpers as any real form of words.

Adam and I reached out to Pete and grabbed his arms to pull him out, the trouble was his longish length hair had become entangled in the thorns of the bush, the more we pulled the less progress we seemed to make. A radical decision had to be made...

"Adam, go and get some hair clippers" I told him and he shot upstairs to fetch some.

Pete suddenly started to make words again...

"It really hurts" he groaned, i was very sympathetic to him...

"Well it's your own fault Pete, now stop whining like a bitch I'm trying to help you hear and i don't see any gratitude"

"Sorry"

"That's ok then, now Adam will be back in a second and we're gonna have to shave your head" I was turning into Juliet Bravo al of a sudden.

"WHA?" Pete said with an open mouthed look of fear, he then began shaking his head whilst his mouth was still gaping. I'm sure if he could have spoken he would have asked me not to but i had no choice and before he could protest too much Adam arrived back.

"D'you get clippers?" I asked

"We don't have any, so i got this instead" Adam said holding up what he felt was an adequate replacement.

"Adam, this is bread knife!" I exclaimed.

"So?"

"What if i cut his fucking head off by accident?"

"What about it?" Adam had a good point and with no further ado i began the careful and delicate process of removing Pete's hair...

...with the top of his left ear now somewhere on the floor Pete was now able to be pulled into the house. Having got him in i now realised there was a bigger problem that might have been the source of his discomfort.

"Pete turn around" I instructed like i was the owner of the Elephant man.

He turned around revealing his bigger problem and on discovery Adam and I, yet again in unison, let out a..

"FUCKING HELL!"

Pete had a black plastic curtain rod sticking out of (or into, depending on how positive you are) his arsehole! I'm no Columbo but i can only assume that Darren had placed it there in a fit of "microwaved granddad" based fury. This now left me and Adam with another perplexing conundrum which we dealt with like adults..

"You get it" I said

"I aint fucking getting' it" he replied

"Well i aint"

"Why Me?"

"I cut his hair"

"You sliced his ear off"

"Exactly, who knows what damage i might cause pulling that thing out"

"This is your fault anyway"

"Why?"

"You pissed in the ashes"

"You nuked the fucking things"

Whilst Adam and i continued our debate Pete turned around to face.

"Please just do something" He cried

"SHUT UP PETE !" Adam and i shouted and whilst we did we gave Pete a little push............and something bad happened.........very bad.......very very very bad.

As Pete fell backwards the end of the curtain rail hit the ground first and (those of you with a degree in physics might be able to guess what happened here) it, sort of, went in a little bit, like say, about a foot or so, give or take six inches. As it slid down it made a horrible squelching noise and Pete even let of a bit of a fart as he slid down, his face changed colour from pink to a sort of slate grey, he aged by about twenty years, it was like that scene in the last Indiana Jones film when that bloke drinks from the wrong grail. He fell on to his back and in doing so the rest of the pole went in, he was now almost petrified and shook with pain and fear. Adam and i stared at him for what seemed like an ice age and then decided what should be done...

"What d'you do that for?" I shouted at Adam

"Me? You pushed him"

"You pushed him, i just gave him a little tap"

"You used your whole hand, i barely touched him"

Then Pete said something else, and this time i listened...

"I NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL IT'S RIGHT IN THERE!"

In that moment i froze and a chill went down my spine, the kind you get when a cocaine buzz leaves your body and you know your in for a rough ride.

Adam stared at me, i looked like I'd seen a ghost.

"Y'all right Rich?"

An interesting question considering the state Pete was in and we'd barely acknowledged his plight.

I pointed at Pete and stared in amazement.

"I gotta go to the toilet" I said as i ran out of the room, i then heard Pete groaning...

"Why won't anybody help me?"

I went into the bathroom and locked the door, as i turned around Vinnie was back on the toilet, reading a copy of the Daily mail. He ignored my presence.

"Good God" he said "Did you know yoghurt can give you cancer?"

"<>

"Oh I know a lot of things Richard" he said not even looking up from his paper.

"What else do you know?"

"That all depends on how far you wanna take this thing? Do you want to go all the way?" he was looking at me now.

"Yes, i do"

"Right, well what's the last thing you remember?"

"Passing out at Dave's"

"That's where you start"

"Ok, i'll do it"

"Good" He said folding the paper up " Can you do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Can you flush the toilet? I can't reach the handle"

I shrugged my shoulders " Yeah alright"

I walked over and pulled the flush then backed off. Vinnie fixed me with an intense gaze.

"Thank you" He said, and as he did he threw himself into the toilet bowl.

I panicked and ran over to it.

"VINNIE! VINNIE! ARE YOU OK?"

I saw his legs spinning round but couldn't grab them due to the speed they were going at. As the water calmed i got my hand around the u-bend and thought I'd got hold of him.

"Come here you fucker, don't let go Vinnie" i pulled as hard as i could and finally he came loose and i flew back and hit the wall, i sat up and realised that in my hand i had a rather large turd that didn't belong to me (don't ask me how i know, i just do, every man knows his own shit). I stared at this faded piece of beige faecal matter and tried to think of something poetic to say...

"Bollocks"

There was a huge bang on the door, it was Adam, i knew this instinctively.

"

Told you.

I got up and opened the door, still holding the turd but shielding Adams view of it behind the door.

"What is it?" i asked

"You alright?"

"Yes, why?"

"I thought i heard shouting"

I shook my head with all the convincing innocence of a child who'd been asked why there was a Jam sandwich in the video player.

"Nope, nothing going on here"

"Ok" Adam said "You got a text on your phone" he handed my phone over to me.

"Cheers" I took the phone off of him and placed the beige turd in his now empty hand, then i slammed the door on him.

I opened my messages and saw that the message had come from Wayne Norris and what it said was quite intriguing.....

The text was confusing to say the least but considering what I'd been through already that night it was at least to be expected. It read:

"Rich you left your bag round here, do u wanna come and pick it up this morning, I'm in court at twelve to be sentenced"

Bag? What fucking bag? I never had a bag at Dave's, and i don't recall actually owning a bag either. No matter how hard i tried i could not remember a damn thing about the past week, and even though my senses told me that this was a Pandora's box of unwanted news; I'd come to the conclusion that my senses were not very reliable or at best misleading, I'd never have got this far into the shit if listening to my senses was a good idea.

< was; with was i all taken, were ones decent the that discover to only there got and fence security in hole a under sneak had so in, get ticket lost my for searching heaven of gate front at stuck senses out handing God when>

A sense of touch that was so insensitive i once head butted a lit barbecue cos i thought it would be a laugh, which it was but singed eyebrow hair caused embarrassment to my sister at her wedding day,

A sense of hearing that could not understand simple orders or straight forward solutions to problems, but instead translated anything logical i heard into the ramblings of a drunk seven year old and caused me to dress up as a pirate and go to the swimming pool, sleep with people who have less teeth than IQ points (long story, i might tell you later), eating old food and cardboard for dares and convince me that learning how to vomit on command was the way forward in show bizz.

A sense of smell that can only pick up all the horrible shit that no-one else notices or cares about such as piss, old socks, rotten condoms and the guy two doors down's kitty litter tray, i once asked the question "Can anyone else smell a burning tortoise?" which funnily enough they couldn't.

A sense of sight that could only make out the rude words or expletives in any sentence or phrase(e.g. In the sentence "In Taiwan kerry ate rice", i see the word WANKER, can you spot it kids?) or in case of pictures and 3D images, boobs or visible underwear (on women before you start thinking like that) and any weird physical oddities which are not outstandingly obvious but take over my very being. I once went to a party and spoke to this woman who had a small mole on the corner of her Jaw, there was a hair on this fucking thing which i can honestly say would have doubled up as an E string on a Double bass, i stood there for ten minutes until i just lost control and grabbed the hair and mimed a bass riff from "Jumping Jack Flash", she was not impressed unless tears are a sign of a charmed woman, i never got a shag so i never did that trick again.

And to cap of this cavalcade of faulty, Ikea style, Sinclair c-5, Beta-max senses of mine we come to my sense of taste, a sense so pathetic that it meant i only find enjoyment in food made of lard, blood and screaming animals and deep fried in 3 feet of diesel oil. I put this down to my slight Scottish heritage, I'm fully English but the genes of a Jock do not go away that easily, I mean the Scots have a higher child obesity rate than America!! how impressive is that? That's like Mongolia beating a Finnish Ice hockey team, they invented the scotch egg, as if an egg did not have enough cholesterol already NO lets wrap it in sausage meat and soak it in cooking oil and they gave us the deep fried Mars Bar (not bad but definitely not part of the slim fast plan), On one visit to Scotland i discovered that some sadist, who probably has his family chained to a radiator in his basement and likes being pissed on by men dressed as Zorro, had made a....get this......Battered and deep fat fried Doner Kebab meat pizza! I think this could be used as some form of military war fare, it contained more calories than the entire population of Mexico and could have wiped out a beach if dropped in the sea, saying that, I've always wanted to eat one of those things and jump of a cliff at the same time just to see which one kills me first, I think i'll save that one for when the doctor tells me i only have six weeks left to live, which by the way I also have fully planned out in that eventuality.

This is how i imagine the doctors meeting going:

Dr: Hello Richard.

Me: Hello Doctor, how are you doing?

Dr: I'm fine but I'm afraid it's not good news.

Me: Fantastic! Right hold on I'm gonna phone me mate Jon.

(I phone Jon on my mobile and wait till he picks up.)

Me: Hello Mate, well the doctor says it's bad news so are you ready? Have you got your betting slip on ya? ( I pull out a betting slip), I had cancer of the pancreas spreading to the lungs, Jon, you said huge growth at the base of the spine and Phil had mass tumours on the kidneys and possible liver dysfunction. Ok are you ready? Right hold on then I'm gonna put you on speaker phone.

I hit the speaker phone and place mobile on the doctors desk.

Me: Can you hear lads?

Jon & Phil: Yes, get on with it.

Me: Jon and Phil Dr Lewis, Dr Lewis Jon and Phil.

Dr: um...Hello...Jon and Phil. Are you ok?

J&P: Oh yes give us the news Dr, hit us with it.

Dr: I'm sorry have you made wagers as to which organ/s in your body have been affected by tumours?

Me: Yeah.

Dr: Why on earth would you do that?

Me:Doc, I'm about to be told that i have Cancer, can my life get much worst or shit than that?

Dr: Well no...but..

Me: Exactly so i thought I'd have a bet, win some cash and the day is not a complete and total loss is it?

Dr: Suppose not then.

Me: Ok Lads here we go the verdict is.....drum roll!

J&P: (make drum roll noise, after few seconds they make ting noise)

Dr: It's a growth in the......

I lean forward in anticipation

Dr: Spinal chord!

J: YES, I RULE HA HA I AM THE REAL DOCTOR!

Me: Fucking hell that's £20 I'm out. Are you sure doc?

Dr: Yes Positive, it's pretty big and inoperable.

J: Loser Loser!

Me: Fuck off Gaylord, There's nothing in the pancreas?

Dr: NO!

Me: Bugger, i was so sure.....anyway I'm off now Doc.

I get up to leave

Dr: Don't you wanna know how long you have left?

Me: Oh alright then, as I'm here, go on.

Dr: Roughly 2 months.

Me: Jon? When is that new Ray Winstone film out?

Jon: I think it's December.

Me: Oh for fucks sake I'm gonna miss it! (I hang the phone up) Doc can you get any pirate DVD's?

Dr: Um no sorry.

Me: Oh well, I'm off to the tattoo parlour. ( i get up)

Dr: Why?

Me:Because I'm getting a happy clown face tattooed on my face.

Dr: Why?

Me: I figured if i have to tell everyone I'm gonna be dead soon it may soften the blow If I have a face like a smiling clown.

Dr Shakes his head.

Me: Take care Doc......nothing in the pancreas?

Dr: GET OUT!

Me: Ok, it's me what's dying misery guts.....wanker.

Anyway that's the way i see it now although i may have to change bits on the day.

Back to the real issue, I had to get around Waynes before midday, the time was now 8:30am, so I'd have to hurry. Now for some reason I stopped myself from going through the bathroom door, I was worried that going through the front would drag me into a world of trouble involving Pete, the missing ear and his little curtain rail issue. I had to get out and couldn't afford to stop for anything, like any bloke who has a bit of instinct and a childhood with too much TV, I flew threw the back window above the bath and landed on my feet, OK that was in my head that bit but I intended to escape and the only window in the room was about a square foot but fortunately, as I'd not eaten solid food for over week, I had dropped down to 9 stone-ish. I jumped up and tried to force my way through the window and managed with little fuss. I went out the window head first and then realized i was not gonna get out of this in one piece, i had not accounted for the windows height and now ,with my body hanging out from the middle of my thighs, I decided it was time to possibly consider changing the way I live my life, but before i could make any long term plans I was made very aware of a creaking noise, one that was coming from the sort of, well, area which i was protruding from. I looked down and decided which side of my head I would most like to destroy, the window was giving way at a rather worrying pace and I now decided that being an Atheist was a mistake all along...

"God, I know I have denounced your existence for....27 years, but I've had a bit of a re-think and I feel ready to welcome you back to my fold, What about it God?"

At the very moment i asked the question the window imploded and I was sent hurtling to the ground head first with no way of controlling myself, but then it seemed my prayer had been answered....

As my face seemed destined to become part of the pavement all of a sudden i felt an upward force that seemed to stop me in my tracks as i was literally inches from not only the pavement but a puddle of random piss, something I'd had quite enough of over the last few hours to be honest with you, in fact i think many psychologists would have a very interesting opinion on the bodily functions obsessions i share with my friends. For a split second i thought that maybe God had one of my legs in between his thumb and forefinger and he was finally proving himself to be real, but that idiotic notion flew out of my head when i felt something give and i heard a rip, i looked up (or down depending on how you see it) and realised that the crotch of my jeans had attached itself to a sharp piece of metal which was protruding from the wall, i assumed it was an old nail of some description. It seemed that as i fell out of the window and into the wall the nail had caught the very centre of my jeans crotch and it was the only thing separating me from a crazy paving face lift, the biggest relief was that the nail had missed all vital areas that are in that vicinity, in fact if I'd been an inch higher i would have experienced the most extreme and intensely unexpected bollock piercing in the history of mankind.

I now had another issue in that i couldn't get down, i was dangling there like some form of modern art bird feeder. I shook myself about a bit and after a little encouragement the jeans freed them self from the nail, sadly in the process of this denim liberation the nail kept it's grip tight onto the stitching and took the entire left leg with them. I know had half a pair of jeans on which is something i can never really see becoming "in" with cool young hop-hip crowd, but you never really know until you give it a go, I really didn't have much left in the way of dignity at this juncture in my life and there comes a point where you feel obliged to make an effort to sink as low as you can possibly get, I felt this was gonna be a recurring and vital element in my nonsensical quest to find out how much of a cunt I'd been in the last week, the options were not looking good, i estimated that i was either:

a)A above average cunt

b) SuperCunt

or

c) Cuntius Maximuis, son of a murdered wanker, husband to a Lazy Fucking whore, father of a Ginger haired illegitimate cum stain,

I am the Labiator!

I really was hoping some good would come out of this but my track record does not read well in relation to my "Drug fuelled incoherent insane psychopath" persona, who pops up when my brain decides to fuck off to the moon for a holiday, even Gerald (yes that little prick) can not penetrate his irrational and dangerously primitive urges and desires, he knows and understands only the most basic and primeval thoughts and feelings, he takes what he wants, like the Terminator he will never stop moving forward, he is nothing more than an Sex-Mad, A-moral, Perverted and Horny Dalek in heat. I knew that If this guy had been in control of me for the last 7 days the fear I had was in the question, not "who did i shag?" but worryingly "What Have i shagged?", in my warped and deranged state anything which possessed an orifice of any description could have been violated, this happened several years ago when my mate (in other words ME) found himself in a position which was compromising to say the least, the full graphic details are hazy but what i do know for sure is my mate (ME) either shagged a small black letterbox OR i skull fucked a poor unsuspecting Muslim woman in a veil. Now, in this case, I'm happy to never find out the truth and I will never actively attempt to end that particular and sadly very haunting mystery, but this one was different, i couldn't even assume what I'd done, where I'd gone, how I'd got there and who'd been involved in whatever had happened. It was time to find out, i set off back to Faversham with half a pair of jeans on, no pants, smelling of old vomit and piss and my self esteem somewhere in the past long, long forgotten.

Don't ask me why I did this but I choose to walk back the Faversham from Adams, there was no reason for it and it took fucking hours but i felt i needed to try and clear my head, it didn't work all, in fact all it did was tire me out, i was also very sick when a fully articulated lorry ran over deceased badger in the centre of the road, this caused the little black and white fellow to explode and sprayed the contents of his stomach and bowels all over me, which was...........very eurgh!

I started to wonder how many horrid liquids and fluids from various creatures and humans would be coated on me by the end of the day, i dread to think but that was not the issue in hand, I had to get to Wayne's house in half an hour or the bag would never be recovered as he would be in prison and it looked like several years were on the cards for him. I made my way to his house and had to try hard to avoid any unwanted attention, hard when you're covered in badger innards and 50% of your Levis are missing somewhere.

I approached Wayne's front door with an air of forced outer dignity, i even had the gall to do that "tie straightening" motion...even though i had no tie on, but i did have the dried-up remains of a badgers intestinal tract on my shoulder, if Beckham wore it then so would everyone else but sadly I'm a bit too advanced for modern fashion, in my mind i thought it could be the alternative for wearers of real fur, instead of killing an animal you simply get a lorry to run over one which has already passed on and go out as you were. I also had an air of caution as i walked up to the door, it seemed every time i touched something it turned to rat-shit, i was not keen on continuing this trend, but what happened next was something the not even the last 24 hours (or missing week) could prepare me for.....

I went to the front door but before i could ring the bell i noticed the door was slightly ajar, this was unusual as Wayne, being a dealer of high grade amphetamines, would never leave his door open. I decided to enter the house without ringing the bell (i know, great plan eh?) I went in and looked around, there was no sign of a struggle and everything seemed to be in order, so i went in.

"Wayne?" I shouted, there was no answer. The house had a deserted feel to it, like someone moments earlier someone had escaped from it....that's not good.

I walked into the living room and then things got even more strange. The back door was open and in the garden, standing next to the pond, was Wayne's Pit bull terrier whose name escapes me as much now as it did then, but, to be brutally honest, i felt that the dogs name was not exactly a vital piece of information at that moment, what was vital was the soft gangly sexual organs in between my legs that the dog was staring at whilst drooling and growling in a strange way that, if it had been a woman, i would have felt excited. This was not exciting however, in terms of sexual arousal this was on a par with watching your dad suck his own cock ( something i am glad to say i have yet to experience....yet).

The dog was wet and I knew at that point why it was angry. You see Wayne is a believer in strict discipline be you man or animal, he thinks a firm hand is the best way and given the variety of bruises his missus used to be constantly in possession of suggested this, either that or her father was a banana. It sounds horrible to be so blasé about a man who beats his wife and I'm not suggesting it's funny, but have you ever met a woman who was beaten by her bloke and after being in her company for all of 3.7 seconds you would really love to remove her head and roast it just to shut her up? Well that was Wayne's bird. She was a gene splicing accident between Jade Goody and Mike Tyson, she had the intelligence of a Christian from Alabama with no brain and the sophistication of a hyperactive camel with piles, her voice not only caused the hair on your neck to stand up but caused other hairs to grow on your eyes, lips and teeth and caused multiple prolapses of the intestines, rectum and urethra, and if you were pregnant a miscarriage. In short she was possibly the most vile, repulsive, obnoxious, unintelligible, stupid and repugnant person I have ever met...and as a kid i once met Tory MP Kenneth Baker! This alone dos not justify Wayne's hitting of her, but it made it easier to live with. The point is he is a man who believes in harsh punishment and it knows no boundary's of species, he collected tropical fish and had a reasonable sized aquarium and he was actually very keen on this hobby, however sometimes a few of the fish had a bit of a rum-do so to speak, nothing overtly violent obviously, this was not Goodfellas in a glass tank, fish are very limited in the sadomasochistic department.......so I'm told, However the instigator of this underwater fracas was a Firemouth Cichlid which is a semi-aggressive perch-like fish, found in slow moving rivers and is native to Central America and Guatemala..........He was christened "Robert Mugabe" by Wayne.....don't worry it was ironic. Anyway upon seeing this anti-social behaviour by Robert Mugabe (that is really ironic aint it) Wayne acted immediately by scooping Robert into the net and leaving him dangling in it over the edge of the tank, as i was in the room i decided, like you do, to ask the million dollar question.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked and Wayne did not disappoint me, he gave me a justification for this piscean punishment which is kind of hard to argue with.

"He's a little cunt and he's gotta learn" Said Wayne.

He was Super Nanny to these fish and Robert Mugabe was on the naughty step. I have no idea if his radical version of the Thatcherite policy of the "Short sharp shock" was ever really effective in the fish world, I also thought it would be nice to one day hear David Attenborough describe one of his documented animals as "a little cunt", but to be honest I don't think it really matters if the punishment works cos...at the end of the day...the fish was a cunt......so fuck him...and his mamma.

My concern was still with the dog with no name, who was still salivating and intensely gazing at my nether regions, he was pissed and the reason for this fury was the fact that Wayne, as part of his strict fascist animal regime, had thrown the dog in the pond...yes, that's what i said. I'd seen Wayne do this before and i decided, like you do, to ask the billion dollar question.

"Why are you throwing him in the pond?" i asked.

This time the justification had more of a personal issue to it, like a sequel to a cops and robbers film. You could sense Wayne had felt pain in some way through this animals actions, and whether it was superficial or emotional pain is not for me to say, but Wayne put it better than i ever could...

"Fucking cunt bit me.....cunt!"

Not exactly eloquent but i think getting the message across is more important nowadays and Wayne never failed to do that.

But i think at the time the dog himself was not exactly taking all this pond malarkey in good spirit, he was not going to be reasonable about this, i doubted that he would be willing to negotiate with me, I was in a weakened bargaining position and saw no real way out of this that could involve a debate of any description. The dog charged at me and, if you've ever had this happen you'll understand this, time froze for a second, i was completely rigid and could almost see the pictures in the local paper under the headline...

HALF TROUSERED MAN WEARING BADGER INNARDS WHO SMELT OF PISS GETS COCK EATEN OFF BY DOG AFTER NEAR DROWNING IN POND

I think i would have trouble living that down. I'm not an expert with the ladies but i very much doubt that "hello, i have no cock cos a dog ate it" is what you would class as an ice breaker likely to lead to a conjugal arrangement.

I unfroze and jumped behind the door, slamming it shut just before the fucker nearly ate my ball bag right off. I was really panicking now, where was everyone? It was possible that Wayne had gone to court early, which even if that was the case he would have left this "bag" in the house, especially if there was anything dodgy in it....which lets face it, is pretty much a cast iron fucking certainty. I doubted, quite rightly, at the time that I would open this bag to discover the complete works of the Bronte sisters or a nice new food blender...that's not worth writing about is it?...correct.

With the living room out of bounds I decided to venture upstairs and see if i could see anything up there. The doors to the two bedrooms and bathroom were shut which made me nervous about opening them, I thought Wayne's room was the best place to start, i knocked on the door...no answer...i knocked louder...no answer, I opened it slowly and peeked in....JACKPOT!

There on the bed was a dark blue bag, medium sized, the sort you'd take camping an put your bits in. This had to be the bag. I walked over with no more signs of tentativeness, i was straight on it. I unzipped the top of the bag and pulled it open quickly, what laid before me was something that I had no concept of until that point, i was scared stiff and what i said at the time sums up my feelings quite accurately..

"JESUS FUCKING SHITTING CHRIST!"

and that was an understatement!

In front of me in this bag there was a white powder...no, not a small innocent amount of random powder...a very guilty and extremely vast and humongous quantity of very potent, extremely strong smelling and long prison sentence causing white powder. I'm not a weight expert so i cannot even guess how much of this substance there was in this bag, but let's put it this way...you know the rubble that was left when the twin towers collapsed? There was more in this bag. This was a quantity of drugs that I had never encountered or even seen, it was actually an effort to lift the bag up.

I stopped and thought for a second and took stock, I'm in someone else's house, someone who'd just gone to court and i have a bag in front of me which is full of so much speed that it weighs more than the Jackson 5...this is clearly not a safe place to stay. But do i take this bag? Where do i take it? Where the fuck did i get it? WHY the fuck did i get it? You could have taken all this speed and seen the entire one hundred years war without missing a thing, Honestly, it was like someone had burnt down Russia and put the ashes in this bag. It seemed like a silly thing (NO, really? How unlike me.) but i took the bag, i knew Wayne wasn't coming back to this house for a long time so no-ones gonna be that suspicious, and some dodgy prick (who's not me) might find this then go and cut it with anthrax and sell it to 5 year olds...it's my duty to take this bag containing the population of Texas' body weight in whizz and do something positive with it... ...something...noble...productive...useful...um........uh.......well in the mean time i'll just have a cheeky bomb (by "cheeky" i mean "the size of J'lo's arse cheeks")...OH!...that was strong!...fuck me it was bloody strong!...it was like Hulk Hogan in powder form mixed with 5 star petrol...HERE WE GO AGAIN. YEEEEEEHAAAAAAAWW!!!

I felt like i was travelling through time, my breathing was now very deep and frequent, my face was tingling like some sort of euphoric version of pins and needles and my heart was beating so hard and fast it set of 3 car alarms and killed and old woman! This was unlike any high speed, adrenaline pro pulsing substance i had encountered, it was more like pure cocaine but the texture and smell gave no doubt that this was top class, pure as a virgins arsehole, completely unadulterated and totally and unequivocally the best and most intense speed i had ever and will ever experience...and i had a fucking bag stuffed with it...this might end badly.

I was about to get the Hell out of there when i suddenly heard a huge smash, something downstairs had destroyed a huge piece of plate glass. I thought it might have been the police or even an enemy of Wayne coming over here to fuck the place up....it was a lot worst! The dog with no name and a penchant for my gonads had crashed through the glass entrance to the living room and was making it's way upstairs, presumably to get his main course. I locked the bedroom door and felt safe until a dog head shaped dent appeared in it, I only had one exit....

Trying to look inconspicuous whilst walking down the street is a fine art, however, I was trying to blend in with a bleeding head (concrete+head+downward force from jumping out of window= blood)

and now without the other leg of my trousers which had hooked on the window ledge as i plummeted to earth with a remarkable thud. I would have been in a lot more pain had i not been high as a kite at the time. I made my way home through the back alleys and side streets in an attempt to avoid the gaze of the public eye. I just managed it and as i got in i slammed the door shut and fell to the floor, I'd never been so happy to be home. I walked into the living room and put the bag on the table, i opened it once more and gazed at the huge white bounty therein. If you were to add up all the speed I'd had in the last 10 years it would not have come close to the contents of this bag, I thought a shit,shave and a shower was the best port of call for now.

Having freshened up and got dressed I tried to think about what to do next, then i remembered what Vinnie said in the toilet..."Go to the last place you remember" I was unsure about how to approach the prospect of returning to Dave's house, the last time i was there was not exactly taken in good spirit. In fact i don't think i came off at all well. Despite my apprehension i really had no choice but to face the music and go to see Dave. At the end of the day he's an old friend, it'll be fine...

"YOU FUCKING COCK BRAINED DICKHEAD RICH" said Dave, to be honest i think 2 penis references in 1 insult said more about him then it did me...but i think i'll leave that for now.

I was unsure at this point if Dave was yelling at me for what happened last week or something else i might have done without realising it or I was just reading too much into his light hearted jovial banter, to be honest I'd gone beyond caring at this point. Dave continued...

"STUPID BOLLOCK FACED" (that's 3 genital reference now, Freud would have field day) "SHITTING WANK HEAD"

pause

another pause

"RETARDED TWAT PUBIC LOUSE FUCKING ARSE HOLE"......he's done.

"Dave..."

"FUCK OFF!"

At this point i should point out that this "conversation" was taking place with me on the pavement and Dave looking out of his bedroom window on the second floor, it was like a gay Romeo and Juliet style row combined with tourettes syndrome.

"Dave...listen" i couldn't really see him, but i knew he was there...i knew in this case i had to be the bigger man and rise above Dave's childish and petty tantrum...

" Dave I'm sorry....DAVE....I NEED TO TALK TO YOU"

Dave came to the window and leant out.

"Do you have any idea the amount of shit you got me in?" He asked in what i assumed was a rhetorical way.

"No i don't" even though i did in a way, he must have got right in it if he's reduced to shouting at me on the street.

"There was less shit on Noah's ark than what you left me in, i have to pay for everything you broke..."

"It was only a picture frame" Shouldn't have really said that....</P>

"I'M TALKING ABOUT THE SODDING CAR"

"oh" i said, remembering the crash and kidnapping, you always forget the little things don't you.

"Yeah, fucking OH is right, I'm gonna have to work my anus blue to get all that paid off and sorted, and there is nothing you can do to get back on my mums good side...EVER!" he said with a fixed glare that brought back flashes of that dog at Wayne's house.

"What if i, bought her some flowers?" I offered with a view to negotiate.

"Are these gonna be gold flowers with diamond nectar delivered by a bald eagle and a date with Bruce Willis?" asked Dave in a serious way, but i answered less seriously than i should have...

"I might be able to get Bruce Forsyth?"

"DON'T FUCK AROUND RICH, THIS IS REALLY BAD"

" D'you think? Look i came here today cos I need you to tell me what the fuck happened after I destroyed your life"

"What do you mean?" he said genuinely confused.

"I woke up in the early hours of this very day in a bath full of my own shit and vom" at this point i would like to inform you that a woman of around nine hundred years old and then some walked behind me, at the point of me saying the word "shit" she slipped off the kerb and bounced on her arse quite hard................and I fucking pissed myself to death, i laughed so hard i winded myself and my face went bright purple, Dave was laughing so loud that mating birds were flying towards his window and stray dogs and cats were gathering round his door, i should point that whilst Dave and I were incontinent with laughter....the old woman was still on the road on her arse, she could have been there for weeks for all i knew, I was that delirious and calamitous i had no idea how long she'd been there, then just when i thought the moment had peaked and gone.................she did the fucking biggest ripping sodding fart you have ever heard in your life, I thought a plane was flying low either that or there was an elephant with bowel cancer was near by, i lost control of myself that all my body fluids began leaving my body, snot down the nose, tears out the eyes, little dribble of piss........she's still on the road........ then the grand finale: I threw up, on the pavement, whilst laughing at an Old woman.....who fell over....and then farted the paint off the road.... she may have even shit herself, but that would just be gilding the lilly for me.

I tried to stop myself from heaving but i had no control of my system anymore, i was under the powers of some dark force that I could not stop and without hesitation, or any holding back I puked up what can only be described as a travel version of the Thames valley, It flew like a cascade of shining stomach bile, crude yet beautiful like a Damien Hurst piece of art. As i continued to projectile vomit whilst laughing, which i recommend, i put all my efforts into stopping, but i felt one more coming and as i was about to unleash it i looked up and saw Dave's mum walking towards me, she had spotted me straight away and had clearly seen me vomiting my arsehole up outside her house next to a fallen pensioner and was clearly not happy, she picked up her pace and walked quicker towards me but then i felt the final shot of spew coming up my throat....you can see what's on the cards here....well your wrong, in a moment of desperation I span away from Dave's mum and managed to heroically, totally and without any thought for my own safety whatsoever......vomit on the old lady...quite a bit....and with a mixed sense of shame, guilt, pride and achievement and the tiniest hint of lust. That all subsided rather quickly though and I was left to bask in the aftermath of the events that had just occurred, I don't know why i thought it was a good idea to leave the house, i clearly cannot be trusted to behave, be civil, not shit or piss on people, not to microwave my friends deceased relatives.....or cover some random Granny with the contents of my guts.

I had to think of a way out of this and luckily God was smiling on me at this moment.....

To be continued.....