Birthday Girl
A teenaged girl and her boyfriend got on the train at Strood station. She had a black beehive hair-do. He had a greasy, brown, almost-mullet. Her face was pancaked in makeup, which didn't quite conceal the very dark freckles that spattered her face beneath. He just looked ill and grey.
"Anyway", she said, "I can't go to Andrea's berfdee, can I? What if Dave's there, too, and it all kicks off again?"
"He wouldn't dare do nuffin' wiv orla us there, though, would 'e?", said the grey teen.
"But you lot ain't bin invited, 'av yer?", she went on, "Kyle pacifically said pacifically you wasn't to come, and that's that, in all honesty".
"Bollocks", said the cadaver, "'Ow's 'e gonna stop all of us gettin' in? I'd like to know. Cos, there'll be about a dozen if Chris and all them lot decide to go". The girl thought for a bit, and then said, "Well, all I can say is that you better be prepared for trouble, 'cos Kyle and them lot said they ain't 'avin' it, that's all. And what about poor Andrea? It's 'er fuckin' berfdee after all. 'Ow's she gunner feel when twenny 'arf-tanked arse'oles barge on in wivout an invitation?" The kid turned this over in what there was of his mind, then he smiled and said,
"It'll be the berfdee she never forgets, anyway!" At this he doubled up in raucous laughter. The girl turned to look out of the window as the ancient towns rushed by.
Comments
Post a Comment