Fabian Wildman had a close call with the cops today. He'd just left the house when I heard the door. I thought he'd forgotten his key but when I answered it, it was a cop asking for him. I told the cop that I'd told them that he didn't live here and I never heard from him any more.
I went for a walk in case they came back. I texted Fabian Wildman to tell him that he needed to watch out. I sent it in code in case the cops are hacking my mobile.
I ran into Good King Thumpo who told me that he was trying to get his hands on some good hardcore snuff. I thought he meant tobacco but he said he meant movies.
He said he'd checked St. Georges Market, that wee shop in the arcade at the bottom of Royal Avenue, that place in the Smithfield Market, all the sex shops on Gresham St and there wasn't snuff in one of them. I told him he'd have more luck at Nutts Corner.
He had a big smile on his face and asked if I wanted to play some pool up in Laverys. I told him I didn't play pool any more. I used to hustle for coca cola when I was a wee lad but the guys who ran the place got wise to my skills and threatened to break my thumbs. That was a close call and the only warning I needed.
He asked if they still broke thumbs because he's short of work at the minute and wants to do some ruff stuff.
