Today I woke up to find Fabian Wildman out in the garden talking to Battle Cat. He'd his knife out and was using it to sharpen a long stick. I wasn't pleased about him being round Battle Cat with his knife but I was more interested in what the fuck was doing.
"I'm sharpening arrows to shoot the milk thief in the ass," he said.
"What milk thief?" I asked.
"Every morning I wake up to get my milk from the door step and it's not there, so I'm going to stay awake tonight and wait for the thief, then I'm going to shoot him in the ass with my bow and arrow."
"Fabian Wildman, we don't get milk delivered to us, that's why there's no milk."
"No, at the start of the year this big wonky fucker who looked like Sammy Wilson came round the house when you were out. I asked him if he was a milk man and he said yes, so I gives him a hundred pounds and says, that's for milk, call again when it runs out. We haven't had milk yet."
"Have you been smoking crack again?" I asked him.
He shook his head but then I noticed he had big blue nostrils.
"Have you been sniffing filt tips?"
He nods and giggles at this.
"I gave up crack," he said. "Not everything, so what if I want to relax with a sharpie from time to time. I don't trust a man who don't get wasted; they're never big in the mouth."
I took Battle Cat inside, even though I don't think Fabian would do anything to harm him, off his face or otherwise, I just don't want him to see Fabian when he starts digging a hole in the ground to fuck.
