“Awright! Awright!” I shout, “Its a doorbell, not a fuckin’ juke box!” Some cunt’s in trouble, disturbin’ me when I’m on the Wii, know what I mean? But its Mickey an’ ‘e’s seevvin’ abaht sumffin’.
“Some fuckin’ paedo’ ‘as only just moved in down the the fuckin’ street!” ‘e tells me.
“Who?” I ask, already lookin’ for me Stanley knife.
“That posh cunt at 23.” ‘e says, an’ I’m not surprised, a right snotty cunt ‘e is. Any’ow this can’t be allowed to stand, can’t ‘ave the kiddies round ‘ere put at any risk from some nonce, it ain’t right, so we tool up and pay the cunt a little visit, know what I mean?
Any’ow Mickey’s kickin’ this cunt’s ‘ead around is livin’ room like its a fuckin’ football and ‘e’s David fuckin’ Beckham, an’ ‘is wife’s all like screaming “No! No! He’s a paediatrician! He’s a paediatrician!”
“Well, we fuckin’ know that, you daft bitch.” I tell ‘er, “Why do you fink we’re ‘ere.?”
So, they wanna put Mickey’s lovely little staf, Britney, down. Just cos she bit some cunt. I mean, she’s a dog, what the fuck do you expect, know what I mean? Ok, so she ‘alf tore off this fucker’s face and sunk ‘er gnashers so ‘ard into ‘is bollocks that you could’ve ‘eard ‘im screaming in Deptford. Wish I’d got it on me phone, funny as fuck, it was.
So, we go round the cop shop to sort it aht. an’ there’s this little dicksplash, Dembrow, I fink it is. ‘E’s allright though, ‘elped us shift’a load’a snuff movies last year, an’ I ain’t abaht to bubble him for this or nuffin’. I mean, you don’t fuck with a man’s trade, it ain’t respectful, know what I mean? We’re all nice ‘n’that. I ask ‘im how ‘is kids are. I know their names, their ages, wot schools they go to, wot grades they get. ‘E looks proper uneasy, know what I mean? I tell ‘im ‘ow pretty ‘is four year old Emily is.
Cunt gets the message, paperwork gets lost and sweet little Britney, ‘oo is brilliant wiv kids by the way and would kill any cunt just for looking at Mickey’s wrong, gets to live another day. You gotta ‘ave respect for life, is wot I say. Know what I mean?
when i was at school i was a bit of a bully. i didn’t mean to be, i didn’t think i was, but i was. it took a really good friend to show this to me. she was called gabriela and she showed me that i bullied other kids because i was scared. she showed me how weak and pathetic bullies are and she was right.
i would shake in my boots, with fear that i might be like them, that my peers might see my weaknesses. i used admire the people that i tortured, on a daily basis, i punched them in awe of how brave they were. i could never have turned up at school if i had thought i was going to be treated like that. they did though, they never failed to show up. what balls that must have taken. on occasion i would do the decent thing and return the stolen lunch money and feel good about myself. generally though i played along with my own fear and gave into it. i was good academically too. i was even good on the sports field. never naturally athletic but i was a demon on the soccer field. not a goal scorer but a defender. i couldn’t really play but i could stop you playing. the other teams would look at me and just pass the ball, not because i was good or talented but because they were scared of me. i feel so ashamed of myself today for the way i behaved as a youngster. i’m not talking about childhood, i was 16 and 17 when i behaved like that.
i am really lucky. i have had the chance to say sorry and to feel sorry. it still hurts though, to know that i was such a little shit as a kid. i met one of my victims a couple of years ago. he was so cool about it. he is doing really well and has a lovely wife and family. i felt so bad but he was so cool about it.
it has taken me a long time to grow up. after school i became a nasty little hooligan and did some awful things. i discovered politics and used that as an excuse to be a thug. i broke a police woman’s nose once during the poll tax riots once and spent time in jail for it.
today i am still not a pacifist but i hate violence, i understand the damage it does. i mean, fuck with me, or, worse, someone i love, and you can consider your self in deep trouble but i have learnt that violent people are cowards, that violence is a sign of mental weakness, that people who express themselves through their fists and feet are pathetic and puny examples of masculinity. that is all i have to say today.