Another weekend without pussy.
What the fuck was going on?
If he had to wait any longer, his balls were gonna burst, and it was gonna be very messy. All because of that prick Marco.
Where the fuck did he come from?
Popped up outta nowhere like David fucking Blaine spouting some
skata
about buried treasure. Tony thought the whole thing was a complete joke.
What did that Marco malaka think this was, Indiana Jones or something?
Prick really believed in what he was saying too. Tony was more than sceptical. He reckoned they would open up the tomb and it would be full of bones and nothing else.
Malaka
was taking ’
em for a ride and they all bought it!
Still, could turn out to be a good laugh, opening up a tomb, seeing what’s inside. Keep his mind preoccupied instead of thinking about pussy all the time.
The wrench he was using slipped, and smashed him on the thumb. Pain jolted up his hand.
‘FUCK!’ he shouted and threw the wrench across the work floor.
He sucked his hurt thumb. Vernon saw what happened from the car he was working on and began to chuckle.
‘What the fuck you laughing at, half breed?’ Tony shouted at him.
‘What’s up with you?’ Vernon asked. ‘No pussy at the weekend?’
Tony flipped him the bird, then looked the other way, out of the garage, and onto the street. It wasn’t just his lack of girl action that was pissing him off, it was Maria too.
What did she think she was doing embarrassing him like that the other night?
Who the fuck was that prick she was with? Mario? Fuck off! He thought of his greasy hands all over her body, dribble flying out of his gob while he sucked on her titties, and the rage built inside him. That
malaka
couldn’t fucking do that to him. If that prick fucked her, then Tony might as well bend over and grease himself up for him too.
If anyone, anyone fucks her, they fuck me too!
He couldn’t have these blokes coming along and boning his sister whenever they felt like it. No way, man. No way.
He would see the bastard off, and that would be the end of it.
The pain in his hand finally subsided to a dull throb and so he turned back to his cousin’s Beemer. It was an M3, a nice motor. Stupid prick crashed it on the North Circ doing about ninety, skidded off the road and hit a barrier. Fucked the whole right hand side. No problem though, just bring it to cousin Tony, and tell him to fix her up. Money don’t matter. Not when you are rolling in it. And Christo and his family were. Rich bastards, living in a big house in Cock-fucking-fosters. Like Nick Theodorou. Rich boys and their cars. Christo with his Beemer, Niko with his fucking XR2. Flash bastards with more money than sense. And the people in society who they looked down on, like Tony, had to clean up their
skata
. Yeah, he had repaired Nick’s XR2 a few times as well after he had been driving like a prick. Probably drunk. These geezers had no fucking decency. Tony was always saying that only complete
malakes
drink and drive. It was the scourge of humanity. You either drink and don’t drive, or you drive and don’t drink. The choice was up to you. But, if you drive while half cut, then you deserved to die.
You could fucking kill someone… or yourself, whichever comes first,
he constantly repeated to people, especially Christo.
But did they fucking listen?
Like fuck they did. And as always in these situations, it was down to the people like Tony to pick up the pieces.
It would be good one day to have a car like this for myself,
he thought.
And if I have an accident, I’ll pay some other prick to fix it!
He looked over at Vernon, realising how much he hated that prick and wished he could have his own garage to boot, instead of working for someone else.
And then, like a blast of hot air, his blood boiled, and his mind began shrieking.
Yeah, I’m gonna go rob that tomb with that weirdo from the fair, just for the fuck of it, but also because just maybe the prick
is
telling the truth and it
is
full of gold
What the fuck was going on?
If he had to wait any longer, his balls were gonna burst, and it was gonna be very messy. All because of that prick Marco.
Where the fuck did he come from?
Popped up outta nowhere like David fucking Blaine spouting some
skata
about buried treasure. Tony thought the whole thing was a complete joke.
What did that Marco malaka think this was, Indiana Jones or something?
Prick really believed in what he was saying too. Tony was more than sceptical. He reckoned they would open up the tomb and it would be full of bones and nothing else.
Malaka
was taking ’
em for a ride and they all bought it!
Still, could turn out to be a good laugh, opening up a tomb, seeing what’s inside. Keep his mind preoccupied instead of thinking about pussy all the time.
The wrench he was using slipped, and smashed him on the thumb. Pain jolted up his hand.
‘FUCK!’ he shouted and threw the wrench across the work floor.
He sucked his hurt thumb. Vernon saw what happened from the car he was working on and began to chuckle.
‘What the fuck you laughing at, half breed?’ Tony shouted at him.
‘What’s up with you?’ Vernon asked. ‘No pussy at the weekend?’
Tony flipped him the bird, then looked the other way, out of the garage, and onto the street. It wasn’t just his lack of girl action that was pissing him off, it was Maria too.
What did she think she was doing embarrassing him like that the other night?
Who the fuck was that prick she was with? Mario? Fuck off! He thought of his greasy hands all over her body, dribble flying out of his gob while he sucked on her titties, and the rage built inside him. That
malaka
couldn’t fucking do that to him. If that prick fucked her, then Tony might as well bend over and grease himself up for him too.
If anyone, anyone fucks her, they fuck me too!
He couldn’t have these blokes coming along and boning his sister whenever they felt like it. No way, man. No way.
He would see the bastard off, and that would be the end of it.
The pain in his hand finally subsided to a dull throb and so he turned back to his cousin’s Beemer. It was an M3, a nice motor. Stupid prick crashed it on the North Circ doing about ninety, skidded off the road and hit a barrier. Fucked the whole right hand side. No problem though, just bring it to cousin Tony, and tell him to fix her up. Money don’t matter. Not when you are rolling in it. And Christo and his family were. Rich bastards, living in a big house in Cock-fucking-fosters. Like Nick Theodorou. Rich boys and their cars. Christo with his Beemer, Niko with his fucking XR2. Flash bastards with more money than sense. And the people in society who they looked down on, like Tony, had to clean up their
skata
. Yeah, he had repaired Nick’s XR2 a few times as well after he had been driving like a prick. Probably drunk. These geezers had no fucking decency. Tony was always saying that only complete
malakes
drink and drive. It was the scourge of humanity. You either drink and don’t drive, or you drive and don’t drink. The choice was up to you. But, if you drive while half cut, then you deserved to die.
You could fucking kill someone… or yourself, whichever comes first,
he constantly repeated to people, especially Christo.
But did they fucking listen?
Like fuck they did. And as always in these situations, it was down to the people like Tony to pick up the pieces.
It would be good one day to have a car like this for myself,
he thought.
And if I have an accident, I’ll pay some other prick to fix it!
He looked over at Vernon, realising how much he hated that prick and wished he could have his own garage to boot, instead of working for someone else.
And then, like a blast of hot air, his blood boiled, and his mind began shrieking.
Yeah, I’m gonna go rob that tomb with that weirdo from the fair, just for the fuck of it, but also because just maybe the prick
is
telling the truth and it
is
full of gold
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