Filth

Ray looks at me as if I’m mental. – You’re forgetting something. Gus’s surprise do.

Of course. How could I forget that. I get to thinking that there might be a surpise for Mister Ray Cunty-Baws Le

Surprise Party

It was a good idea to throw a wee surprise party for Gus, as it’s the auld cunt’s fifty-fifth. Christmas is all but with us, so any excuse for a piss-up. Gus but: he should be thinking of early retirement, no fuckin promoted posts. What an auld spastic, spoiling things for every other bugger. Or trying tae spoil things. Think again, old man.

However, we’ve got a few cans and bottles in, and there’s a fair crowd here. Yes, even Drummond’s here: one gless ay wine, then making a big point tae every cunt about needing to get back tae work. Nae cunt takes a blind bit ay notice ay her though, even if the atmosphere lightens up as she leaves. Needs cocked badly that yin, for every other cunt’s piece ay mind as well as her ain. Anywey, I’m mair interested in real fa

– Mind back in Oz, at the New South Wales Police Department, I carry on, we used to play this party game . . . in our station at College Street. The Aussies . . . well, they can be a bit risqué.

– Aw aye, what was that? asks Karen Fulton. She’s a game cow. Known for it. Gone a bit snooty these days, but the alcohol and the festive atmosphere of the holiday period are just the ticket to pull a slag back into the fold. They just can’t help themselves.

– Perhaps I’d better not say, Karen my darling. Our colonial cousins . . . can be rather coorse.

– C’mon! Spill the beans, Fulton urges.

– This sounds intriguing, the Size Queen purrs.

– C’mon Bruce, don’t start something you can’t finish, says big-mooth Le

– Well . . . okay . . . what it was, right, was that the guys would take it in turns tae go into the photocopier room and photocopy their wedding tackle on to a sheet of paper. Then they’d write their names on the back, and put them into an envelope. Once everybody’s been done somebody then tacks the prints on to the board.

– Get away Bruce! Le

– Naw, bit listen, I continue, – The lassies would then try to match the cock to the guy.

– Lit’s dae it! roars the Size Queen. I clock Le

Inglis emerges with a sheet of paper in an envelope. He hands the envelope to Ralph Considine, who’s only a uniformed spastic and thus shouldnae even be here in the first place, and he goes in and does the business, handing the envelope to Gus. There’s whooping and cheering from everybody, except a tentative Le

I emerge with the envelope. Clell and some spastic who worked with Gus do their bit, then we’re away.

The game is interesting. One cheeky cow marks me down for what’s obviously Le

BRUCE

GUS

ALAN

ANDY

PETER

RALPH

STEVE

RAY

PHILLIP

It turns out that auld Gus’s is almost as big as my enlarged one. Nae wonder the sly auld fuck was rarin tae gie it a go! The biggest shock though was that someone was smaller than Le

After the disclosure, everybody’s giving me loads of attention. I catch the Size Queen’s flirtatious eye. As time and drink pass she’s embarrassing herself over me, and Le

I’m going to say fuck all to this big blonde hoor. I want the Size Queen off her high horse, I want her to proposition me. Which, after a while and more drink, she does. She sidles up to me and vampishly a

I push in and watch the Size Queen thrust and buck with an increasingly puzzled look on her face. She’s daein aw the work and that suits me fine. After a while I shoot my load and leave her wondering what’s been happening.

I collect my fifty quid from Le

When I get hame there’s a couple of letters. One’s a gas bill, the other has a Chelmsford postmark and it’s from Tony and Diana. I feel my cock stir and think about the four-hundred-mile drive to Chelmsford. I could do it through the night on charlie, fuck myself blind for a couple of hours, then head straight back. Yes. I ignore the gas bill, I ignore all of these. Carole takes care of that shite, and I’ve enough fuckin paperwork in my job, for fuck sakes. I eagerly tear the Chelmsford letter open. 14th December 1997

Dear Bruce, I hope all is well with you. We are writing to tell you that we all feel that it’s not a good idea that you join ourselves and Laurence and Yvo