Doogsy

Doogsy's

The lads were in Nimsky's bar. The conversation, as per normal, was on
football.
-Liverpool were fucking stupid to sell Fowler, said Naomi. -Since he's
gone Liverpool have scored only twelve goals in thirteen league games
and out of them won only five&;#8230;
-Whereas&;#8230;, a male voice interupted, -Leeds have found the
net nineteen times in eleven matches, half of which have produced
victories. The voice belonged to George, Naomi's boyfriend. He was
known to the group as big Geo and to Naomi as Chicky Babe, but only in
private surroundings.
-Thank-you George, Naomi said patronisingly. -But I can speak for
myself. She only called him George when he had insulted or offended
her.
-Sorry Gorgeous, he said winking and blowing a kiss towards her.
Doogsy, who was sat beside Naomi, winced.
-Do yous fucking pair have to all act luvey duvey in front of the rest
of us, he said seriously.
-Fuck you, big Geo said. -You're just jealous cause no cunt'll have
you, you ugly little runt.
Doogsy stood up quickly. -I'll take a fucking hammer to you ya big
lump of shite, he said.
-Heard it wee man, said Geo. The two of them were always at each
others necks and it was the reason why the rest of the group were
unconcerned by Doogsy's serious sounding threat.
-Anyway, said Scotty who was sat between them. -What about the footie?
Doogsy sat back down. He was smiling. Taking up his chair again at the
table he blew big Geo a kiss before turning to Naomi. He made a sexual
gesture with his tongue towards her. His row of rotten teeth made her
cringe because of the smell.
-Doogsy, you really need to get your teeth sorted out, she said.
Doogsy quickly closed his mouth. He was very self-conscious of his
teeth but he couldn't afford to get them fixed. She knew that. It was
obvious to all by the way he would always cover his mouth whenever he
tried to chat someone up. Whenever he done so, which was normally when
he had a good drink in him, he would always cover his mouth with his
hand. It was the sort of give-away sign that body language always
reveals, like when someone rubs their eye every time they are telling
porkies.
-Ha Ha, big Geo laughed loudly.
-Ram it, said Doogsy extending his middle finger towards Geo.
-The football, please, anyone, said Scotty.
-Two-nil Leeds and Fowler scoring both, said Winston. His real name
was Harry but because he was from Jamaica he had been labelled Winston.
It wasn't this group that had given him the name. It was during his
basic training in the army when his Scottish section corporal had
labelled him it. At first he quietly resented it but he was powerless
to do anything about it. Eventually, and after being called it for so
long, it just stuck. He even introduced himself to new people, like he
did when he first met this group, by the name. His mother didn't
approve although she was now dead after being murdered so it didn't
matter anyway.
-How much you sticking on that then Winston? asked Scotty.
-Twenty spot. What's the odds?
-Who's got the paper, Scotty asked.
-Here, said Mary, who had been quietly studying it. Closing it shut,
he said: -Have you read that? He was pointing to the front page story.
He was called Mary after his favourite drink.
-What is it? Scotty asked.
-About they fucking paodophile cunts. The dirty fuckers are being
given houses in residential areas next to kiddies and that. Fucking
scandal man ah tell ye, he said lapsing into a broader than normal
Scottish accent. -They should be hung they cunts man ah tell ye.
-Excuse me, said a female voice they didn't recognise. The group
turned to see a middle-aged woman and a young man sat alone. The young
man looked perplexed as though he was used to the language. -Would you
mind not using such vulgar language please? She asked.
-Fuck-off you old cow, said Doogsy and the woman stood up and stormed
out. The group laughed. -Fucking stuck up cow anyway, he said
shrugging. When the woman got home her embarressed son went to his room
and put on his favourite Eminem track on while his mother explained to
her husband what had just happened. As they discussed the lowlife that
they believed the law was failing to deal with there was a discussion
happening on the radio that her husband had been listening to before
she came home.
-Communism - the first expression of the social nature - is the first
term of social development, - the thesis; property, the reverse of
communism, is the second term, - the antithesis. When we have
discovered the third term, the synthesis, we shall have the required
solution. Now this synthesis necessarily results from the correction of
the thesis by the antithesis. Therefore it is necessary, by a final
examination of their characteristics, to eliminate those features which
are hostile to sociability. The union of the two remainders will give
us the true form of human association, said the voice on the radio. The
couple weren't listening, the son was swearing along with Eminem and in
the pub the gang were cheering on the footie.
-Go on son, shouted Doogsie to the screen. -Break the fucker's
legs.