Tuesday, 22 December 2009

Suck Shit Dumb Cunts!

Brendan sat contendly with his newborn child resting against the scar where his once magnificent breasts had been. But his loss, our loss, was not so raw these days.

He'd fitted in well at Brisbane, the boys making him feel more than welcome. And the knowledge that his coach and a few team-mates had been involved in a savage bar brawl made him think that the joint had a culture almost designed for the likes of him.

And now this. He was watching TV reports about two Carlton players who'd been banned from the casino after causing trouble. So much for the theory that getting rid of him would somehow erase a 'bad culture' from the joint.

He reached for his phone and his pressed the green re-dial key. He'd been dialling this number repeatedly all day.

After two rings, Sticks picked it up.

"Yes Brendan, what is it this time?" he asked with exasperation plain in his voice.

"Oh," said Fev, "I just wanted to ring to say SUCK SHIT DUMB CUNT!"

Sticks hung up and Brendan chortled to himself. It wasn't going to get old anytime soon.

The looked at his phone again and this time press the hotkey for Chris' number. He put the phone up to his ear but it simply rang out. Again. Hadn't been picked up all day.

Where WAS Chris when Brendan wanted so much to taunt and goad him?

It wasn't like Chris to go missing when the heat was on with off-field matters.

Not like him at all.

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