I was wandering through town today when I bumped into my hostshot banker brother. He nearly walked past me without speaking.
"Why weren't you at The Fruitarian's intervention?" I asked him.
"Making Money," he said patronisingly rubbing his finger and thumb together in a kerching kinda way.
"Very good, see if this credit crunch fucks you up, you'll get fuck all help from anyone you miser,"
"The Northern aren't likely to go down," he smirked.
"Lucky for you," I nodded.
"Well, it was nice seeing you," he says.
"Here listen, lend us a twenty would you? I need it for crack."
He handed me a twenty and a tenner as well.
"Get yourself some toothpaste too," he said showing me his clean teeth.
I wandered off thinking I could get some cough syrup as well, it would take the edge off until my dole comes in. It was nice of him to lend (give) me the money (he knows he'll never see it again), but the last time he didn't I went into the bank and asked for a loan. They said no so I told them who my brother was and they told me he wasn't in until the day after but that he couldn't give me a load either. I threw a bottle of piss in the cashier's face and puked on the police when they showed up to arrest me. So my brother was warned he'd lose his job if I ever did that again, even though it wasn't his fault. All the same, when I need money for crack he gives me it.