Rhodie
Tony – and the mystery of the Heebie Jeebies.
Tony has a thirst. He spots some scrounging, old, smelly bag trying to insert her card in an ATM. He spots an opportunity.
Dancing delicately around the puddle of urine the flea bitten bag of sagging tits over her walking frame, had piddled; he politely asked if he could be of any assistance.
‘Oh, oh, oh,’ she sputtered, false teeth jutting out between breaths of decaying lung cells, ‘I want my pension, but, but, but (loud fart), it, it is too complicated.’
‘Allow me, I will help. I notice your pin is written on the back of the card. How much money do you want to withdraw?’
‘Oh,oh, oh (looks like she chewing the cud), five pound, I,I,I need some bread and tin,tin of food for Tibbles.’
Tony checks the account balance first. Hmm - not bad, close on three grand. Bit of a fucker though, limited to 500 a day. That will do.
Tony has a thirst. He spots some scrounging, old, smelly bag trying to insert her card in an ATM. He spots an opportunity.
Dancing delicately around the puddle of urine the flea bitten bag of sagging tits over her walking frame, had piddled; he politely asked if he could be of any assistance.
‘Oh, oh, oh,’ she sputtered, false teeth jutting out between breaths of decaying lung cells, ‘I want my pension, but, but, but (loud fart), it, it is too complicated.’
‘Allow me, I will help. I notice your pin is written on the back of the card. How much money do you want to withdraw?’
‘Oh,oh, oh (looks like she chewing the cud), five pound, I,I,I need some bread and tin,tin of food for Tibbles.’
Tony checks the account balance first. Hmm - not bad, close on three grand. Bit of a fucker though, limited to 500 a day. That will do.
Giving
the ancient wreck a fiver and her card back, Tony heads to his local – ‘The Nagging
Whore’.
Pays off his tab of three hundred and hits the bottle of his favourite tipple reserved only for him – A fabulous cocktail of liquid oxygen, dinitrogen tetroxide, and hydrogen peroxide labelled - ‘Tony’s Liquid Rocket Fuel.’
Pays off his tab of three hundred and hits the bottle of his favourite tipple reserved only for him – A fabulous cocktail of liquid oxygen, dinitrogen tetroxide, and hydrogen peroxide labelled - ‘Tony’s Liquid Rocket Fuel.’
After
two pints of the stuff, Rhodie Tony is hallucinating badly and, as usual, finds
himself on all floors on the street.
This is when he got a massive attack of anxiety, apprehension, depression and illness. The clinical, ice cold, WHO description of classic syndrome of the Heebie Jeebies. Christ almighty, he would rather have corona virus - he felt that ill.
His arms felt like lead and his legs appeared to walk on their own and dance a jig in front of him, whilst ‘River Dance’ played in his head.
‘Oh God, please save me. I promise never to commit sin again if you allow me to live.’ Tony cried out to the CO2 covered, filth smog, blocking out the nightly stars of heaven.
A voice answered. ‘Yeah, yeah, heard this all before. Another night or two in the cell for you Tony.’
Stay tuned as Rhodie Tony takes on the massive might of a huge ant hill by nailing himself to it, covering himself in honey and refuses to scream with pain as he is eaten bit by bit in tiny bits.
This is when he got a massive attack of anxiety, apprehension, depression and illness. The clinical, ice cold, WHO description of classic syndrome of the Heebie Jeebies. Christ almighty, he would rather have corona virus - he felt that ill.
His arms felt like lead and his legs appeared to walk on their own and dance a jig in front of him, whilst ‘River Dance’ played in his head.
‘Oh God, please save me. I promise never to commit sin again if you allow me to live.’ Tony cried out to the CO2 covered, filth smog, blocking out the nightly stars of heaven.
A voice answered. ‘Yeah, yeah, heard this all before. Another night or two in the cell for you Tony.’
Stay tuned as Rhodie Tony takes on the massive might of a huge ant hill by nailing himself to it, covering himself in honey and refuses to scream with pain as he is eaten bit by bit in tiny bits.
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