Bloody Steve and Ginger Pete
He was on his way to the track. Kempton today. On his way to meet, Ginger Pete and Bloody Steve.
Two losers! Ginger Pete got his name for obvious reasons and Bloody Steve cos he couldn’t put a sentence together without using the word BLOODY!
Ginger Petes Mum died and left him the house about 6 years ago and about two hundred grand in the Bank. The moneys gone now, but at least he’s still got the house, although he’s had to take in a couple of lodgers so he’s got some kind of income coming in. Bloody Steve is on the dole, he’s got a window cleaning round which earns him a few quid every week and of course he signs on, so he’s sorted. One thing about Bloody Steve though he’s as soft as shit. Give him a sob story and he’ll give you the shirt off his back. I’m always telling him that he should toughen up a bit. Anyone comes to me trying to lend money got no chance. I just tell them to fuck off, what am I some kind of mug!
He walks into the bar area at the track and sees them both sitting at a small table.
Ginger Pete is scratching his beard, he always does this when he's studying form.
“I think I’ve got the placepot sussed today”
Bloody Steve gives him a look that instantly says Wanker!
“You’ll be lucky, bloody hard today, haven’t had a bloody sniff at it in months. The last time I got it up was at Fontwell, 6 placed horses and had it for a bloody fiver, the bloody thing only paid £11.25. So I had it five times, wasn’t bloody worth it!”
They’re not like me, I don’t claim bugger all. Never paid Tax or National Insurance, but never taken anything off the state either. Live from day to day, bit of work here and there, nick a few quid from various sources, sell a bit of scrap, do a bit of driving for some people, but no scrounger. Last week I earnt about seven hundred quid. Good week.
Living above the Old Red Cow pub now for seven years, Giant Tommy lets me have the small room for £40 a week, good deal, leaves me enough to have a good bet. Got £400 on me, so that’s £60 a race for 6 races and enough for a few beers, sweet!
No silly bets for me today, I’ve come to earn some serious money. I Fancy one in the first and a really good outsider in the last. Yep gonna be a good day today.
Bloody Steve puts his placepot bet on, he hands over £72 quid.
“OK that leaves me about bloody £120 in me pocket, a few beers and a few bloody quid each race, that’ll do me!”
“You’re a fucking loser Steve,your placepot has no chance today, it’s way too hard. Could be loads of outsiders. Pete get the beers in!”
Ginger Pete orders 3 pints of stella.
“Right lets get these down our necks and then we can go to work”
They all chink their glasses and wish each other luck.
After the first five races Bloody Steve buys a round of three Stellas.
“One race to go and I’m still in the bloody placepot!”
Ginger Pete looks dejected.
“I was out after the first fucking race”
“You’re both a pair of losers, Steve I’ve seen who you’ve got in the last and I can tell you, no chance. I’m backing Merry Fiddler in the last, it’s 8-1 and it’s gonna run a stonker!”
The last race starts and Merry Fiddler is way back.
“Come on you lazy bastard get up there, he’s probably waiting his chance and will come strong in the final two furlongs!”
Bloody Steve is quiet, but looking at his ticket.
“If my bloody one gets a place I’ve got the bloody placepot up, he’s in bloody fifth at the moment”
“No fucking chance Steve, he’ll start to go backwards in a minute. Merry Fiddlers gonna piss it!”
Merry Fiddler moves effortlessly to the front with a furlong to go.
“Go on my son, he’s fucking cruising”
With a few strides to go, a black horse from nowhere pips him on the line.
“Fuck, what a fucking load of bollocks, ought to be taken away and shot that fucking donkey”
Bloody Steve looks up.
“That was my bloody horse that bloody won!”
This could be a few quid, the placepot will pay a fortune, no favourites have won today which means there won’t be many winners, I’ll have to play this carefully.
“Well done me old son, how many times you got it?”
“Whatever it bloody pays I’ve got it bloody eight times”
Jesus, it’s sure to pay a few hundred quid for a pound and he’s got it eight times.
“Fucking love you son, well done, let’s get the beers in!”
Bloody Steve orders three Stellas and three large Jamiesons.
They wait for the announcement.
“Today ladies and gentlemen the placepot is £376.85!”
Bloody Steve jumps in the air!
“Fuck me that’s about three bloody grand!”
“Well done mate, I knew you had a chance as soon as you put it on!”
Ginger Pete joins in.
“So pleased for you mate, Chinese on the way home?”
“Yeh no problem, my treat!”
Bloody Steve gets his winnings and returns to the other two,
“Well done mate, fantastic, can I have a quiet word?”
“Yeh, no bloody probs”
“Well as you know me Mums not been too well, I’m saving up to buy her one of those reclining chairs but there about £1500. Any chance I can borrow a grand?”
“Of bloody course mate, I love your bloody mum!”
He hands over £1000.
“Cheers mate, let you have it back as soon as I can”
“No bloody rush, I’ve still got £1500 left!”
As I said before, as silly as arseholes is Bloody Steve.