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Monday, 19 October 2009

Our heroes, Sean and Diffy, begin this particular day in the Bolto Hospital Accident and Emergency Department. Knowing these two. It wasn't going to be that simple.
This story is by no means Politically Correct and contains VERY strong language. Please do not read on if you feel you may be offended.

Diffy bent down, grabbed the front leg of the plastic hospital waiting room chair, and heaved like buggery. The legs shot into the air and Sean was deposited on his back in a raucous clutter of thrashing limbs. Diffy leapt off his chair and fucked off post-haste. He had only made it some twenty feet when said chair hurtled past his head and clattered into the ubiquitous coffee machine.

'Twat! What the fuck did you do that for? I'll fuckin kill you, you pygmy bastard.' Sean was not best pleased.

Diffy danced from foot to foot at the back of the waiting room. He had the exit door to his left, just in case. 'Come on, fuckface.'

'I'll kill you, you bastard. I've got a broken arm, you know.'

'Have you fuck, Sean. You just want a sick note, you idle cocksucker.'

'Mr Harrison.' A huge pink nurse in an equally huge blue uniform drew back the curtain of a tiny cubicle and called out to Sean.

Sean turned to face her, turned back to look at Diffy. 'I'll fuckin see you later, you two foot freak.'

'Sure, Sean, sure. Whatever.'

'Friend of yours?' said the nurse.

'Not anymore he ain't. Prick!'

'Language.'

'Don't you start, Susie.'

'Four times in as many weeks. Sean, my love, you are a dickhead.'

'Thanks, love, now take me to your leader.'

Dr Abjanii was tired. He had been on shift for twelve hours, and had had only managed to grab two hours sleep between this and the previous shift.

'It's just sprained, Mr Harrison.'

'How do you know it's just sprained: you can't even speak the language.'

'It's a sprain in any language, Mr Harrison. Just take it easy for a few days.'

'Take it easy for a few days? I'm in fuckin agony, pal.'

'Me, too, Mr Harrison, now let the nurse strap it up then fuck off out of my sight before I get security to throw your sorry arse out onto the street.'

'You've been watching too much telly, you have, Abdul.'

'It's, Mohammed, actually, but you can call me Dr Abjanii, now fuck off.'

The doctor left.

'He's a piece of work, him. Did you hear what he said.? Do you reckon it's just sprained, Susie?'

'I think you need to get a life, Sean. That's what I think.'

'Thanks for your support, Susie.'

'Welcome.'

'Cow.'

'SECURITY, PLEASE!'

'Ok, ok, you made your point. Strap me up and let me out. What time is it getting, anyway?'

'Twelve.'

'Pub.'


Sean crashed through the A and E doors, stumbled to a halt and looked around frantically. 'Diffy!' he bellowed.

There was no sign of his diminutive companion, and Sean swaggered off down the street, wearing his bandaged arm like a badge of honour.


'I got you a pint in.'

'You short arsed little bastard. Where did you go? I've been looking for you everywhere.'

'No you haven't, you fuckin liar.'

'Ok, but what the fuck was that all about? You could have broke my fuckin neck.'

'It was a spur of the moment decision. Seemed like a good idea at the time.'

'Great mate you are. Get me a pint.'

'I got you one in.' He handed Sean a tall, dirty glass of opaque brown liquid.

'Fuck me, this ale is diabolical. Tony reckons it's because of the traffic vibration.'

'I reckon it's because Tony is too fuckin idle to clean his pumps out. I had the shits all last week. Bet it was this ale. Lost a fuckin stone, I did.'

'Well you can stand to lose a few tonnes you revolting little P.O.R.G.' (Person Of Restricted Growth)

All muscle, Sean.'

'Fuck off, Diffy, It's all blubber. Bunch of Chinese whalers were down here looking for you last week.'

'By the way,' said Diffy, 'nice bandage. Anyone would think you really had hurt yourself.'

'Fuck you and all who sail in you, you fuckin pygmy.'

'I'm not a pygmy, I'm just a little short in stature, that's all.'

'Like Tony the landlord is a little lax with his hygiene routine.'

'Something like that, Sean.'

'Bollocks.'

They stood in companionable silence for several minutes: each lost in his own thoughts.

Diffy dug Sean in the ribs. 'Psst!' he hissed.

'I am getting just about fucked off with you and this "Psst!" thing, Diffy, you squat twat. Just say the say then shut the fuck up.'

'Tam'O'Shandy just came in. He's a fuckin head case, he is. I heard he knocked fuck out of a couple of coppers last week.'

'You dickhead, Diffy. Big as he is, and mad as he is: and there is no disputing that the man is indeed a certifiable lunatic, if he had kicked the shit out of the pigs as you suggest, he would now be locked away in a very dark, very secure place, not walking round The Swan like he owns the fuckin place.'

'Just what I heard, Sean.'

'Who off?'

'Brethy.'

'Oh, right. You believe anything that God squadding evangelist says?'

'Just cos his dad's a vicar don't make him a Godder.'

'Does in my book.'

'You're too judgemental.'

'And you're just mental. Now fuck off back to the bar and get the ale in.'

'I got the last ones. It's your round.'

'So you did. Same again.'

'Better the Devil.'

'Co bloody rrect.'


Tam'O'Shandy walked around the pub glowering at the regulars before approaching the bar.

'Whiskey, Tony: double.'

'No trouble, eh, Tam?'

'Course not, Tony. I'm a reformed character.'

'Sure you are.'

Tam's voice sounded like someone dragging a sackful of drowned kittens over a bed of crispy duck pancakes, only in a much deeper register, and with that distinct Glasgow accent known and feared throughout the land.

Sean turned his back to the Scotsman. 'Don't fuckin look at him, you twat, Diffy. We don't want him over here mythering the fuck out of us.'

Tam. 'Sean!'

Sean. 'Shit!'

'How are you, my wee little thuggy?'

'Good, Tam, good. You?'

'Drunk as a skunk and up for a fight.'

'Oh, great.'

'Dinna worry your little heed, Sean, you're safe while you hae wee Diffy tae protect you.'

'That's a comfort, then.'

Diffy decided to join in the conversation. 'Nice black eye you got there, Tam.'

'Well fuckin done.' Whispered Sean. 'Now we'll be stuck with the fucker all afternoon.'

'Sorry.'

'Too little too late, Diffy.'

'I nearly kilt a mon this morning. He had the temerity to push in front of me at the post office. I was queuing for me mammy's pension. I had tae tek him outside and teach him a lesson or two.'

'Doesn't look like he was too cooperative, Tam, judging by the shiner.'

'Ha!, Sean, I let him get one in just to make him feel like he was contributing.'

'Very considerate of you, Tam.'

'I thought so.'

Sean turned away in an attempt to end the conversation. Tam was having none of it. He put one huge hand on Sean's shoulder and spun him back round.

'I punched him in the face a couple of times, heed butted him. You know, lads? The Glasgow kiss? Then I finished him off with a sideswipe tae the ribs, like so.'

Tam took his right arm back, then swung it round in a huge haymaker that caught Sean square in the ribs, propelling him across the tap room and knocking all the wind out of his body.

'Jesus, Sean, I'm sorry.' Tam was beside himself. 'What with you having a broken arm, and all.'
Diffy. 'It's not broken.'

Sean. 'Shut the fuck up, you.'

Sean managed to get onto all fours, and was relieved to find that he could breathe with difficulty. 'I'll be alright, Tam. No sweat. No broken bones, eh?'

'What have you done now, you tosser. You'll need to go to the hospital with that. You could have broken ribs, or even a punctured lung. That's a killer that is. Isn't it, Diffy?'

'Sure is, Carol.'

This was Carol. Carol of the pie shop and huge breasts. Sean had had a soft spot for her for years. It was an old mattress behind the surgical appliance suppliers.

What a waste. Sean could only look up at her from his vantage point just below the hem of her short skirt. Any groinal manifestations he might have had were nullified by the searing pain in his side.

'Hi, Carol.' He managed.

'Want me to come?'

'Pardon.'

'To the hospital.'

'Oh, that. No, you're alright darlin, I'll be fine once I get a pint inside me.'

He stood up, then fell down again.

'Hospital it is' then.' said Carol with the authority that only a woman can create.

'Don't tell em how you got it, eh, Sean? Our wee secret.'

'Course not, Tam.'

'Good laddie.'

'Pillock.'

'Pardon.'

'Nothing, Tam, nothing.'



'Dr Abdul.'

'Abjanii, Mr Harrison.'

'Nice to see you again. Still here, then?'

'It would appear so.'

Sean. 'Broken ribs.'

Dr Abjanii. 'We shall see.'

'Go for it, Doc.'

'My dear father, bless his soul, told me to come to England for a better life. He has a lot to answer for, my father.'

Sean to Diffy. 'Get me a chair, oh short one. We may be here some time.'

Diffy to Sean. 'Your wish is my command, oh injured one.'

Dr Abjanii sighed. It was going to be a long night.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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