Choccy was a twat. A successful twat albeit but still a twat. Mr John Soft shot him. Four fucking times. Bang, bang, bang and fucking bang. Put the body in the canal. Let it float down, or is that up to Wigan Pier. Wigan Pier the Proletariat's Disneyland. They all go. All the poxy George Orwell groupies! A leisure complex based on the good old days when everyone made money for the evil Lord of the Manor and then died.
Choccy made money for himself and then died. The corpse was spotted by two Japanese tourists. The water had cleaned the blood away but it was unmistakably a dead body. The female tourist, Kobi Anshe (aged 29 from Hiroshima) told the local cub reporter that "She knew immediately that it was a dead body and didn't panic". She simply called the police on her mobile and watched them lift it from the dirty water.
That night Kobi and her boyfriend stayed in the Quality Hotel on Riverway in Wigan and had the best sex they'd had in their eight-year relationship. A year later to the day Kobi shot her boyfriend four times. Bang, bang, bang and fucking bang. She pushed the body into the river and caught the first plane to Manchester to look for Mr John Soft. Best of luck. Her and the police.
Harry's Bar is the type of public house that normal people do not go to. It's a sea of cheap tracksuits, cheap perfume and cheap booze. Inhabited by the drunkest deadest white trash in town. A blow -job in the bogs from a trollop with liquorice roots costs a fiver. Squeak went there once. Never again! "Very unsatisfactory" were the words he uttered to himself as he wiped his cock against his Marks & Spencer Y-fronts. "Very unsatisfactory!"
It did, however, not prevent him visiting the said premises four times a week. He would arrive on Monday at 11.00am and leave on Thursday at 7.30 pm. He obviously went home each evening but it all sort of blurred in to one long booze-fest. The unusual thing about Squeak is that he would sit all on his own and talk to nobody. Unlike the others who would argue continuously, he would sit look straight ahead, moving only to visit the bar where he would order his usual Guinness with Jameson chaser or visit the toilets to relieve himself. The arseholes who frequented Harry's thought him odd but nothing more. Just odd! If only they knew.
Bubble, had during schooldays and late teens, been Squeak's best friend. That was until one woman took Squeak away from Bubble and Bubble made up for lost time by screwing half the half-decent females in town. Women had undoubtedly been his downfall. He was currently cheating on his fourth wife with his boss's youngest daughter. Blonde and beautiful his wife may be but, come on, the girl's young and impressionable and to use the current parlance "she takes it up the wrong un". See when I say Bubble and Squeak were best friends, their friendship was based almost solely on their mutual interest in hard core XXXX pornography. Bubble had a far too unhealthy interest in anal sex while Squeak, well Squeak was just Squeak and said very little.
This being Friday Bubble was "up town" chatting to the girls. He had had his eye on a girl called Paula for the last two weeks or so and tonight he would make his move. It would be easy. She was gagging for it. No problem! And quite right because by ten that evening he was back at Paula's neat terrace. The fucking had been marvellous for the two of them. All night long! She must have woken the whole street. Bubble particularly enjoyed her cry of "That's fucking wonderful big boy". Paula had obviously watched her fair share of pornographic videos because to the discerning viewer, if there had have been one, the fucking was not wonderful and Bubble was far from being a big boy.
In the cold light of morning Bubble still considered Paula attractive. For she was. Small with short fair hair, a well -toned sun bed tanned body. This could be difficult. A wife and two girlfriends could prove difficult but fuck it they don’t call me 'The Scholes Stallion for nothing' thought Bubble. What a fucking prick!
Bubble was desperate. He used to buy from Choccy and it was easy. Nice and clean but now he had been reduced to haggling with the scum from Coops Foyer. All would-be gangsters all fucking half-wits as far Bubble was concerned. He could nip to Harry's and buy from the cunt who runs the scene in there but he knew that Squeak would be in and he couldn't be bothered in conversation. Also it was his lunchtime and he was an accountant with the top firm in the town. There's no way he could go in there with all the down and outs. He needed the dope, not really for his own sake as - although he had what could be termed a marijuana habit - he had promised Emma, the bosses daughter, he could get her some.
He had managed to get a pass out from the wife on the premise that he was playing darts with the lads. The wife knew he'd never thrown a dart in his life but was beyond caring. With ten minutes of his lunch left he had no option but to go in Harry's find the man and grab what he could. The deal was done at the bar. " How fucking unprofessional" he thought. He nodded to Squeak who barely stirred from his Guinness and rushed out making it back three minutes late.
That evening Emma and him self smoked the dope and drank three bottles of wine between them. Bubble fell asleep for a short while. Emma looked at his ageing body, prodded him and through the dope and alcohol haze somehow ordered a cab that took him home. It was ten thirty when he left. Emma found some energy from somewhere, went to the bathroom showered and washed the fucking arsehole out of her life.
The next day at work she told him it was over. Bubble agreed it was for the best, thinking about his job should her father find out, and said "Well it was bloody good while it lasted".
"Well it was average", said Emma.
Police had estimated that Squeak had been dead for three and a half weeks when he was found dead. He had shot himself. Bang. The police also announced the gun that he used was almost certainly the one that was used to kill Anthony "Choccy" White some two years previously.
Bubble identified the body
To be continued…
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