I hate the fucking Jonas Brothers, and when I discovered that the wee wanker across the street had started dressing like one of them and has had his hair permed I could have stormed over there and asked for Johnny Borrell's autograph back, even though it's fake (oops!)
Just then Fabian Wildman came down the stairs. This was the moment of truth. I gave him the court summons. He asked me what it was. I mumbled something and couldn't bring myself to say it. You see Fabian Wildman has criminal convictions and he's liable to get some time for what he did, even if it's only a few months. At the very least he'll get a big fine and a suspended sentence.
He looked really worried.
"I'm going to get really fucked over this," he said, he looked like he was about to cry. "Did that bastard bring it round."
"I'm sorry I went round your old house to kick his fuck in but he wasn't there."
Then he looked down at the court summons and started to laugh. I thought he'd went coco bongo for a minute.
"It's not for me," he said, seeing the surprise on my face.
"What?" I asked.
"This isn't my name," he chuckled. And then I looked closer at it (and without revealing his real name) they'd addressed it to (the equivalent of) Fabien Wildmen.
"That won't get you off," I said in disbelief.
"Sit back and watch," he said. "But don't really, I'm going to wait til a few days before the court to let them know."
Jammy bastard. I hope this works for him because if it doesn't the only logical option he has is to move house again and that would suck.
