Big Brother its' not

They were sat in the pub, as usual, and  Hank was in a good mood.  All was well with the world.  They were both on leave, Rosey had finally had enough and kicked Bill out and he had moved back into the flat four days ago.  And to cheer him up they had started getting up to there usual fun and games.  It was working as well.  Bill was smiling, even giggling at times and Rosey had not been mentioned once.

Bills phone rang but Hank picked it up before he did.  ‘That Bitch’ flashed on the screen.

“Who is it?” asked Bill.

“Er well, rosey mate”  Hank held up his hand indicating to Bill that he would not let him speak to her, and pressed answer, “Hello you’re through to Bill’s phone”.

“Hank?” By the sound of it she had been crying, “Is he there, can I talk to him?”

“Rosey I don’t think that’s a good idea, I can’t see him wanting to take you back, after all that’s happened.”

“Him take me back!  What has he told you? Look let me talk to him!”

“Look breaking up is hard to do, is it really worth arguing who is to blame?”

“He pissed all over the living room!  He came back drunk, pissed all over the living room and then used all the freshly ironed clothes to mop it up, MY CLOTHES”

“Well look Rosey, maybe it’s for the best. The two of you have been unhappy for so long, and yet now you should see Bill, He is calm, smiling carefree chap that he hasn’t been for a long time,  Do you want to make him unhappy?  Do you? Do you Rosey?”

“You fucker, you never liked me, all you have done is try and break us up, well I hope you two cunts get some fucking dick rot and die, Bastards”

Bill looked at Hank and mouthed “What ‘s she saying?”  Hank again motioned Bill to be quiet.

“Yeah that’s the spirit, you take care”

“Cunts” Rosey screamed but Hank was already pressing the hang up symbol.

“Well what did she want?”

“Oh she just hoped you were well, reckons it’s for the best, usual break up stuff”

“But she’s ok? She isn’t upset?”

“Erm a bit, but she mentioned something about going on a date before she hung up so no worries there”

“Oh, right, so it is over then.”  As he said this Hank’s phone rang.

“Hello your through to Hank.”

“You sick fucker, I suppose you think your funny”

“Er who is this?”  But the caller had hung up and left no number.

Bill was smiling,” so who was that mate?”

“Fuck knows mate, been getting calls like that all day, don’t know why.  Fancy a pint?”

That was of course a daft question. The quiz machine took a pile of money off them and the landlord was wringing his hands in glee, truly there were no better customers than these.  Three O clock came and went with Bill and Hank the only customers, he had to change the hopper in the machine twice which mean that his two week holiday, all inclusive to the Algarve was paid for. The lads had enough and left at 4 O clock. Outside it was cold and wet but they were oblivious to the weather. Back in the flat they had a night cap and fell asleep in the living room. Hank woke at 6 and went to work leaving Bill at home alone. He awoke about noon, had a shower and a bite to eat. Then boredom set in. He didn’t fancy a drink yet and Hank would undoubtedly have plans for later so he sat down to watch daytime TV. Christ that proved really boring so he paced up and down the room thinking of something to do. His eyes settled on the phone, he could phone someone and arrange to do something. Two phone calls later he had exhausted all his friends and they weren’t keen on doing anything. Next he called the television stations to complain of the quality of day time television. He started with a rant to BBC1. The PR lady he spoke to apologised profusely and explained that as the entire day time audience consisted of single mothers eating pasties and smoking heroin there was no need for quality programs before 6 pm. On a brighter note she explained that the beeb were having difficulty recruiting half wits for Bargain hunt, and if he could find a partner they would gladly have them on the show. Bill accepted at once and gave Hanks name as his partner.

Hank returned from work quite tired and had a large Jamesons. Bill was full of excitement and babbled his news to a fairly unresponsive Hank. He just didn’t seem that interested or enthusiastic. Bill threw himself into the preparations with a vigour seldom seen in the flat. He spent every spare moment on line and when not sat at the computer desk he had his nose in an antique journal or book.  It was beginning to become an obsession, every conversation was about antiques, walking anywhere he would stop and question the monetary value of anything as they walked past.

The night before the show they were in the stoke arms for a quiet one,  the bbc were sending a driver and to be clever they left their wallets at home and had brought a tenner each, guaranteed to be back early.

Pint fella? Eh, oh hang on a minute.” Hanks phone was ringing. “hello you’re through to Hank.”

“I suppose you think it’s funny?” said the caller, “you sick twat”

“look will you people stop calling.  At least tell me what I’ve done!”  but it was no good, the caller had hung up.

“still getting those calls mate” Bill asked with a wry smile.

“yeah it’s fucking mental, dave two of the usual please mate.  By the way dave are you still keeping the policy of no bar tabs?”

“yes Hank, it only leads to arguments, I know you two are my best customers and that….”

“No fella , that’s fine, we’re limiting ourselves tonight, only brought limited funds but as a precaution.  Did we mention we’re on telly tomorrow?”

“Oh jeez,” said dave under his breath,” Yeah, Bill has mentioned it a few times”

At the Bill perked up “ oh yeah dave I forgot about that, did you get the bar pumps valued? Was I right? Was I?”

“No I didn’t Bill, will you just let it go.  Anyway Hank, I thought you were banned from the telly, after countdown.”

“only channel four mate,  this is the digital age, plenty more channels to go round.  Cheers shippers”

“Cheers”  Bill and Hank supped at the pints.  “fella fancy wasting a couple of quid in the quiz machine?”  Behind his eyes Dave danced for joy, it was going to be the best holiday ever!

Four o’clock in the morning Hank and Bill were extremely drunk and singing as they left the pub.  For the first time since playing the quiz machine they had won and won big.  £450 worth of winnings.  The best laid plans of mice and men.

The driver picked them up at 06:00 sharp. They both settled in the back and were soon asleep. It only took ten minutes before they were at the antique fair and went in to make up. By ten they were ready to start filming.

“here comes that ponce in the waistcoat” Hank observed.

“Mate” replied Bill.”Do you know who that man is ? He has spent a life in the business and there is nothing he doesn’t know about antiques. For example..”

“Fuck up mate, you really are becoming a bore. Right I think we are on”.

With that  they were taken for the first shot. As the three hundred pounds was handed over Hank grabbed it and set off for the antique fair leaving Bill to be introduced to the guest specialist. He was tall, middle aged, handsome in a roguish manner and orange, bright orange. Bills jaw hit the ground.  He was totally in awe and unable to speak  beyond nodding and smiling inanely. They set off in search of Hank hand in hand and after about twenty minutes gave up the search and concentrated instead on finding bargains. Whatever David pointed out Bill agreed with wholeheartedly. Even when Dave produced two plastic cups of tea and asked Bill how he liked it Bill said that although fairly modern there was almost certainly a market for mass produced plastic cups in the not too distant future. Dave said no, did he want sugar or not.

It had been a good couple of hours since they had seen Hank, which surprised Bill, it took a lot of explaining from david and the film crew that although the show only lasted a half hour they had to film all day and there wasn’t a time limit on collecting the antiques.  And Hank had not showed up, and he still had the money.

David picked up a cracked, puce coloured vase, “so Bill what do you reckon about this piece?”

“Christ on a bike!  David you ask me about that vase one more fucking time and I’ll shove it up your arse.  I hate the thing…”

“cut!” it was the director.

“why do I agree to working with these people?” david slammed the vase down and walked off into the crowd with one of the assistants running after him.

The director walked up to Bill, “Right ok Bill, I gather from the driver you had a bit of a late night last night so I’ll go through this one more time.  For us to get all the angles we have to record you and david having the same conversation a few times.  It’s because we have only the one camera”

“Yeah I get that bit.  But why does it always have to be the same fucking vase every time”

Something snapped inside the directors brain “Because,” he yelled “it has to look like it happens only once and will be shown that way,  do it your way and the vase will keep changing into different things!  Why can’t you get that  that into your skull, it has to be the same vase!”

“But why?”

“because it fucking does, otherwise the dolies, single bloody mums and students will be thinking my goodness isn’t dave clever he just magically changed that puce vase into a donkey, then a picture frame then a fucking teacup.  That is why it always has to be the vase!  This Vase, this cracked, puke coloured vile fucking vase!”

“Yeah, ok.  But even if we’re not going to buy it?”

That was it, he’d had enough, the director needed a break. “Bill look we’re going to need a bit of time to er pick locations and stuff so why don’t you try and find that friend of yours.  And the money”

At that a commotion at the far end of the arena grabbed their attention. A sudden sense of dread came over Bill and he rushed to the area where a large crowd was quickly gathering. On arriving he caught glimpses of naked flesh and the distinct aroma of spirits. With a sinking heart he nudged forward to the centre of the crowd and his worst nightmare was realised. Hank was dancing, well moving around in the mud as naked as the day he was born singing a song about two dwarves and an antelope. In his hand he held a rather aged looking empty bottle and in the other hand a mis-shaped turnip. On seeing Bill he stopped singing and rushed towards him claiming undying love and loyalty. Bill hurried him away to a quiet corner and got him dressed.

“Where is the money mate?”

“You are a great mate you are. This was a brilliant idea. I did buy you a drink but you were not here so I had it. I am so sorry mate, I really am.”

“Hank, where is the money, you cant have drank £300 quid in a couple of hours and there is no bookies so just calm down and show me the money. Come on Hank hand over the cash and we can get some bargains, that Dickenson fella is doing my head in, the daft fucker keeps showing me the same horrible vase.”

“Ah yeah, the money, if you will excuse the pun, I have entered into the spirit of the game. Walking past a high quality off licence I noticed an antique bottle in the window, on closer examination I realised that the bottle was indeed old and so probably worth a few quid. Obviously I then bought it, and I knocked the price down from 310 to 290, so theres a bargain and there was enough left over for 20 fags.”

Bill looked on bewildered. “So fella you bought a 300 quid bottle of whisky, drank the contents and now believe that we can take the empty bottle to auction and make a profit on 300 quid expenditure on a empty fucking bottle. For christs sake fella you just fuck up everything you touch. Selfish bastard.”

Hank was stunned. What the hell did Bill expect, he would show the bastard. He said he was going for a cup of coffee and would return presently. Bill was left holding the empty bottle, looking bemused and above all disappointed.

Later that evening Hank returned, sober. They were filming the last bits before the auction and were taking great delight in taking the piss out of the blue teams empty bottle, saying that the reds were assured of victory. Bill was looking embarrassed and squarely laying the blame at Hanks feet. The orange bloke asked Hank what he thought his chances were in the most sarcastic manner he could summon and was shocked when Hank insisted that they had a good chance of making a decent profit. Everyone laughed chummily and nodded their heads in unison.

The atmosphere in the flat that night was far from pleasant. Bill was sulking and Hank gave up trying to mollify him. Each went to their rooms early and got their heads down. Next morning Bill awoke to Hank singing cheerily from the kitchen. The smell of cooking breakfast wafted through the flat and Bills stomach started to growl. Hank shouted through that he had made breakfast so Bill got up and showered and came into the kitchen. Hank had just finished an enormous breakfast and was clearing the table.

“Cheers mate, where is it?” said Bill.

“Wheres what?”

“My breakfast, you said that you had made me breakfast, remember, so come on fella I am starving.”

“Ah, I think that you will find you mardy git that I shouted that I had made breakfast, which I did, I made it and I ate it. As you aren’t speaking to me it is not likely that I will cook for you is it? Now come on we have to get to the auction house.”

Bill was shocked. How bloody petty, but was determined to rise above it.” There is no bloody way that I am going to that auction, just to be made to look like a total twat on national television. So you fuck off you fat Irish turd and enjoy, we all know that you are a twat anyway.”

Olympic ordeal

With renewed vigour they set about planning the entrapment of Claire and how best to shoot the video.

“Will ah be sheggin a real corpse like” asked Al.

“No mate, we’ve got a whore lined up to play the corpse and we just have break in to the mortuary and film you doing her on the slab.”

“Oh” Al said disappointedly finishing off his Cleggy. “If yews cannae get a whore like..”

“No Al we have a whore.”

“Ah well so, but bear it in mind eh?”

Bill knew one of the mortuary attendants but unfortunately he was a clean living christian sort of fella and getting his keys could prove difficult.

“Well maybe I should phone work and do a shift.  Be easy to get to the morgue then”  Bill got out his new phone with Hank staring at intently.  Poor bloke thought Bill.  He often forgot that his lifestyle must seem luxorius to Hank, with his house, his clean and ironed clothes, his meals cooked for him.  Well not his meals but that was a problem he would have to sort later.

“Hello A&E Sister speaking”

“Hello mary it’s Bill.”

“Hello Bill, How’s the course going?”

“Er fine”  Fuck, what course thought Bill.” Listen Mary I’m available for a few shifts this week so if your short I can do a couple.  Or the odd one anyway”

“oh fantastic, you couldn’t do this afternoon could you,  It’s just that it’s been mad here, must be a full moon, honestly you would not believe it.  A blind man has been ran over because someone pinched his dog, a man has just come in with bilateral femur fractures as someone pinched  his ladder from under him and we’ve just removed an umbrella from this man’s, well best not say over the phone.”

Bill looked at his pint, his dishevelled appearance and thought of the pressing need to save Hanks skin.  “Sure, can you get me a uniform.”  He hung up downed his pint and looked at Hank and Al.  Al was trying to focus on something, anything, whereas Hank’s gaze was settled on Bill’s phone on the table.

“we’re on fellas.”

The shift passed quietly,  staff asked Bill about his progress on his course to which Bill gave non committal answers.  He kept looking at the Bat Phone, the early warning system the ambulance crews used to warn staff of an urgent case.  It was eerily silent, if no-one died soon he would have to come up with an excuse to get down to the morgue.  He went for a tab and looked at the student nurse he’d been suckered with for that shift.  She was only eighteen and this was her first shift in A&E.  He thought back to his first shift when he qualified, with Hank.  He was lucky really,  Hank was a loose cannon but could not be arsed with all the dull practical jokes the others did to the new ones.  No his jokes were far more cruel.  He looked at the student and an idea formed.

“Amanda, have you ever seen a dead body?”

“No she timidly replied.

“Good, I mean I think it’s time you did.  Give me ten minutes to sort it then head off to the morgue and Dave the attendant will sort you out.  Nice bloke so don’t be afraid.”

As she left Bill got out his  phone “Hank be outside the Morgue in half an hour” and ran down to the morgue.

“I’m not sure Bill”  Dave was a decent bloke and still lived at home with his mum even though he was forty eight.  That was Bill’s advantage.

“Yeah but mate this girl is a bit of alright and the ladies love a guy with a sense of humour,  tell you what do this for us and we’ll get her out for a coffee after work.  She’s a nice girl, I think she mentioned something about a prayer group tonight but I’m sure she’ll want to join us after this”

Dave’s expression gave nothing away. “ Well, I suppose..”  Got you you fucker Bill thought.

The Girl entered the morgue and was nervous when entering the brightly lit, stainless steel room.  She expected to be sickened by a smell of death but instead was greeted by a sterile odour and an even more sterile weedy looking man in cords and sandals.

“Hello, you must be Amanda, don’t worry, it will be okay.  Do you want to step this way”  He led her to a small door at waist height then opened it and a life size filing cabinet drawer was opened to reveal a body, covered in a starched white sheet.  Dave grabbed the head end and before he removed it, looked to the nervous student and said “Ready?”  She nodded and leaned closer.  He pulled back the sheet like a magician would a table cloth as Bill leapt up screaming at the top of his voice.  Amanda turned and ran as fast as she could.  Bill was choking on his laughter, Dave was not so sure but couldn’t contain a wry smile. 

“Hey Dave if you thought she was great you should see the other one.”

“The other one?”

“yeah her mate, hey why don’t we do it to her too?”

“No Bill I couldn’t, I couldn’t keep a straight face”  Sometimes, Bill thought, Life is too easy.

“that’s okay fella, this time you play the body”  They swapped places, Bill slammed the door shut, locked it then called Hank.

Hank, Al and Dora arrived outside the hospital in a taxi after having picked up some ice from an off licence. Al was really very pissed but incredibly excited about having a starring role in a movie. Dora was in seventh heaven after her second trip in a car and the promise of three pounds sixty and a bag of chips. They made their way to the mortuary to be met by Bill laughing hysterically outside. It took some time for him to calm down but when he did he explained what he had done and got congratulated all round, Dora even tried to kiss him but he ran to the sanctuary of  the post mortem room. They all entered and Hank started setting up the camera on its tripod whilst directing Al and Dora to get acquainted. Al was far from happy; “If I am a porn star mateys, then ah need a fluffer, an am no doin it unless I get fluffed!” Hank busied himself with the camera equipment and asked Bill to sort it out. Bill tried to convince Dora to do the necessary but she demurred stating that as the leading lady there was no way she would perform fluffing duties, she was after all an artiste. The camera equipment was taking an awful long time to set up so Bill quickly realised that he was on his own. He put on a pair of gloves and gingerly approached Al and took his member in his hand. Al smiled benignly upon him and gave him directions which, gagging on his vomit he carried out to the best of his ability before finally collapsing in self repugnant indignation saying that he could do no more and moving to the sink to wash his hands and ears thoroughly. Just a she was finishing Dora demanded to be fluffed also and turning Bill saw Hank shuffling nervously back to the tripod.

“Oh no you fucking don’t “ screamed Bill.

“What” asked Hank all innocence.

“I fluffed that bag of Scotch shite and I aint doin her, endex, it aint happenin’”

“Fella, be reasonable.”  Said Hank holding up his hands.

“Reasonable! Fucking reasonable, I’ve just done a  Aberdeen  Handshake on that jock and now you want me to go on  the wicked witch of the west now.  I reckon it’s time you started pulling your weight.”

“I think we both know that’s asking a bit much,” said Hank with a cheeky grin.

“Eh?”

“It was a joke mate, pulling my weight, large bloke like myself, Jeez Bill what’s happened to your sense of humour?  Fuck Fella you need to chill.”  Hank still had the wide grin.

“What’s funny about that?”

“We’re in a morgue! Chill!  Oh for fucks sake, we’re lagging behind and this camera gear doesn’t set itself up you know.  So Chop chop, don’t let the team down.”

“Hang on I never said I…”

Hank was already walking away, “That’s the spirit shippers, let us know when he’s done Dora.”

Dora winked. Bill complied. Hank smiled. The next view Hank had was far from pleasant. Dora had stuck her behind through a doughnut shaped implement and Bill was crouched behind  antagonising her rusty sheriffs badge. It was time to get on with things so he called for the attention of everyone present and gave a stirring speech with regards their mission and what it meant for humanity, only to be interrupted by  Dora who unleashed a torrent of…..something into Bills face.

Bill froze, not wanting to breathe, open his eyes, nothing.  Al was no help, he’d been keeping himself ‘on form’ during all of this and on seeing  the squirt of liquid hit Bill was now doubled up in laughter.  Hank took some time to come to his senses.  He realised that Bill was not moving.

“Bill? Bill mate?”

But Bill was not moving.

“Bill?  C’mon fella”

“Hmm” It was in an unnaturally high tone.

“Bill say something”  Hank didn’t want to touch him, “ BILL Come on mate”

“Hmm”

Bill Still hadn’t moved.  Hank guided him to his feet, “C’mon mate have a seat over here”

“Hmm”   He sat Bill done and donned some gloves and removed the fluid from his face but Bill still wasn’t moving.

“Look mate, you sit this one out, we can crack on from here, eh?  Sound like a plan dude?”

“Hmm”

With that the plan moved on. Al was supreme and Dora fell in love. In the end they had to stop the two of them and Hank was worried about Bill. Throughout the whole episode he just sat mumbling, “hmmmm” or words to that effect.  Al did not want to finish, indeed he couldn’t which upset Dora immensely. She felt that she was not a whole woman, that she could not please her man which of course defeated the whole purpose of the video. On reflection Hank felt that he had enough raw footage for his purposes so he could now have some fun. Much to his surprise Al opened a fridge..

In retrospect as they discussed later the two of them should have planned the finer details .  The fluffing, obviously was something that would effect Bill for some time and although they said nothing to the effect they both knew they would never, ever talk about it again.  The details that they should have discussed, they agreed, concerned the little things.  Like telling Al not touch  anything whilst in the morgue, especially the fridges where the bodies were kept.  And little details like, which fridge had  dave the mortician in.  and details like locking the mortuary door, or in the event of security turning up, the quickest way out of the hospital.

His screams, dave the morticians, were loud when Al opened the drawer  and tried to stick his cock in his mouth.  Als screams as the supposedly dead body moved and head butted  his member were bone chilling.  The shouts from Dora of “ Don’t tell me your Gay Al?!”  Was what finally alerted the authorities.

The CO turned off the television, white faced and looked at Bill and Hank.  

Stripper Sex

They drank in silence for the next few hours and soon realised that they were getting bored and needed some entertainment. The quiz machine was out of order so they decide to see if Big Gay Al could be found around town. First stop was to be the cutter. On entering the pub was alive buzzing, there was a sense of excitement pervading the whole atmosphere. As Bill got the drinks in the lights darkened and a small spot of green light lit up a small stage. To the tune of Nelly the elephant Big Gay Al pounced onto the small rostrum and gyrated his hips badly. He slipped on some spilled ice and lay there for a while just smiling at the audience, none of whom except Bill and Hank were paying any attention to him. He pulled himself up the pole and pointing Bill screamed “this one is for you baby”. He then pulled off his trousers in one seamless action and started to shake his member at him. On closer examination Bill felt quite disgusted, Als chap had obviously been given a good pounding in its lifetime and had suffered several diseases. It made the two toned beastie in his own pants seem unremarkable by comparison. Al then announced that he would play a tune on his knob, a trick he called clacking. He rubbed soap all over it and then proceeded to beat out a tune on his lower abdomen with his cock. No one could make out the tune but he carried on regardless finishing with a huge ejaculation that landed unseen in in a pint nearby.

Bill and Hank looked at each other and smiled.  They had their star and it would be easy to persuade him.  Big Gay Al pulled up his trousers and staggered up to them.

“Ah yers alreet?”  He asked.  Bill and Hank were big drinkers, it was no secret, but Al was in a league of his own.  Hank asked could he get him a drink and he asked for a cleggy.

“A what?”  Asked Hank.  Al asked the bar man for three cleggys and the trio were presented with three pint glasses with a dark brown liquid in it.

“it’s ma own creation, vodka, baileys, advocat and a half pint of mild, with a splash of tonic water.  Cleggy as in wha’s this?  Looks Cleggy”  He proceeded to down half his pint.  Bill and Hank not wishing to appear rude did the same.

The following morning the three of them adopted the usual position with the CO.  This time Hank had a step ladder, Al had dog lead and Bill was clutching an umbrella stand in the shape of an elephant’s foot.

“words fail me gentleman.  They fail me.  Kelly I’ve been instructed by…other authorities to leave you well alone.  But you, Mason and….who are you?”

“Ah’m alreet pal, thanks for askin.  Yerself?”

“Not how, who!” yelled the read faced Master at arms behind them.

Big Gay Al swaggered as he turned to face him.

“An a big Hawoo to you too.”  The master at arms, on instinct punched big gay al square in the face knocking him over the desk and onto the CO’s Lap.  Bill looked at the CO’s face framed by Big Gay Al’s legs, his crotch nestled under his chin and the sound of Al groaning from behind the desk.  The drink had shut off most of his synapses but a few were still firing.  He looked at the drunken form of Hank and was confused.

“Fella I thought we were gonna use the whore?”

Another bloody shambles thought the CO. Kelly would get his just desserts at the court-martial but Mason, well his ass was for the high jump, but first there was a terrible stench emanating from the crotch of the individual who now straddled him. The Joss was busy trying to remove the offender from the CO and as they disentangled a silence descended over the room. Mason was smiling smugly at the Joss, waving his finger in his face.

“OH, naughty, naughty Jossman. You did not want to hit him did you. Well, well, well.”

The Joss was absolutely seething and about to deliver another knock out blow when the CO pointed out that Mason had a point, perhaps the whole thing could be settled amicably. Sensing weakness Big Gay Al interceded;

“Nay fecking way shippers. Dee yer hear me. That pricky cunt slapped me in front of yae an  yer jusy goin to let him off are yea. We’ll see about tha!” and turned to leave.

“Now hold on a minute” the CO called. His reputation was already in tatters and if this got out his career would truelly be over.”We can sort this mess out, just what do you want?”

“Right then, I’ll be tellen yae” replied Al. “Me an me mates here want to kick that bistard in the balls!”

On reflection this seemed a decent compromise to the CO so he assented. The Jos was in a state of complete shock. He could not believe what had just transpired and stood there facing the CO with his mouth agape as Al approached. His brain was saying that this could never happen, that he must be dreaming when reality in the form of a size 9 boot caught up with him, or rather his balls. He crumpled to the ground and was quickly aware that two more blows had landed, vomiting he passed out into oblivion.

The three of them sat in the stoke with their trophies beside them.  Hank and Bill almost retched when Big Gay Al asked them if they wanted a Cleggy.  He went to the bar and they sat there quietly contemplating their situation.

“You know fella, we get out of some shit don’t we.”

Hank looked at Bill and wondered if the next sentence would include Rosey.  He attempted to steer away Bill’s thoughts.

“Bill?”

“What mate?”

“I know we’re a bit pissed an all but today is Thursday, isn’t it?”

“Not sure why?”

“well, when was the last time either of us went to work?”

Bill looked up to the ceiling and stared as if the roof would provide the answer.  “You know I’ve no idea”

They looked at each other and sniggered.  Big gay al looked over from the bar,”are you laughing at me yer cunts”  As he walked over to them, drinks in hand.

“No fella “ said Hank.  “we just realised that we haven’t turned up for work for about three weeks, no-one has called us, and the CO didn’t say a word about it today.”  

Nurse whore sex

Upon arrival Bill took the poor unfortunate into the bedroom and briefed her on her role whilst Hank went to the kitchen for an extra large portion of Dutch courage. It seemed like a good idea to get her totally into role so Bill took her into the bathroom and put her in a cold bath and added all the ice cubes from the freezer. After about 30 minutes Hank just wanted to get it over and done with so went to the bathroom but was not prepared for the sight that awaited him. Bill was passed out on the floor whilst Dora was shivering in the bath mumbling about a snake having leapt out of his trousers and attacking her. After raising Bill’s feet to the edge of the bath he guided Dora to the kitchen table and made her lie perfectly still upon it, instructing her to only take shallow breaths and not to react in any way at all. No matter what he tried he was unable to perform, he thought of every good looking woman he could but to no avail, in the end he had to settle for digital manipulation and Dora proved to be a natural, not batting an eyelid nor moving a muscle no matter what he did. Satisfied with their leading lady he gave her a fiver and told her they would be in touch. After he had shown her out he went to rouse Bill and tell him the good news.

Bill was particularly difficult to rouse, his semi flaccid member still poking out of his trousers combined with the bruising around his eye meant he was still drowsy.  Hank looked out the bathroom window, dawn had long since passed.

“Bill! Fancy an early one in the stoke?”  Bill mumbled incomprehensibly and Hank assumed he meant yes.  He went and grabbed the barbeque tongs from the kitchen, something he had to have handy since Bill’s op and tucked him in, then proceeded to carry him to the stoke.  The door was locked but the landlord was used to locals anxious for an early morning snifter, especially these two

By the time they got to the bar Bill was awake and anxious to know how it all went.  His eye was hurting and his penis was feeling slimy, he was a bit worried as to what Hank had been up to whilst he was out cold.

“It was alright fella, she is the perfect candidate, warts and all.  And I mean warts and all.  Have you got Al’s number, we need to get him on board”

“Al hasn’t got a phone, we’ll have to head for the ‘Cutter’ at kicking out time, he’s bound to be there.”

“The Cutter doesn’t have a kicking out time now.  It’s 24 hour.”

“Not on a Wednesday, shuts at four in the morning.” Replied Bill

They looked at their respective watches,  0900.  Fuck thought Bill, He couldn’t, Rosey would kill him.

“Same again?” Asked Hank, getting up, instinctively knowing the answer.

“Yeah mate, just off to the heads”  When Bill returned Hank was there with two pints and two chasers.

“Hank, why is there barbeque sauce around my Cock?”

Hank considered the question for a while and decided that he could have some fun. He proceeded to inform Bill that Dora had taken a shine to his two toned monster and had to have it at all costs. Try as she might the thing was too big so she came into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards for some considerable time eventually settling on the barbeque sauce. He also explained that he was not too sure of what was going on at this stage still intent on Dutch courage but eventually curiosity got the better of him and he went for a look. Bill was by this stage approaching a state of shock and looked at Hank fearfully not knowing what to expect. The non existent scene was described to him in gory detail. Hank claimed that upon entering the bathroom Dora was sitting on Bills face pouring bar-b-q sauce over her breasts and chomping on his two tone monster. Hank related how he had to beat her off him with a broom whilst taking some publicity shots for the movie.

“What fucking movie” screamed Bill, “we are not actually making a fucking movie”. He was told to calm down, where was the harm in making a few pounds on the side.

An argument ensued for most of the morning about the pro’s and con’s of actually making a movie,  Hank couldn’t see a problem but Bill as ever had to think of Rosey and what would ever happen if she ever found out.  This continual consideration for Rosey was seriously beginning to piss Hank off.  Bill on the other hand had other more pressing concerns now that Rosey had sprung to his mind.

“Bill I’ll tell you what, dump Rosey and we won’t make the film.”

“What!  If I Dumped Rosey it wouldn’t matter if we made the film.”

“Well there you go fella. It’s a win win situation.”

“Yeah funny guy.  Seriously though,  That two bit whore has got me worried.  Do you know where the nearest clap clinic is?”

“Yeah mate it’s five minute walk….. I think, I mean, it might be near here, down the road, on the left.  So I’m led to believe.”

“Right drink up, we’re off.”  Hank looked hesitant then down at his pint, “Oh for fuck sakes Hank you’ve got snags.  Dave Can we get a carry out.”

“It’s not that mate…”  But Bill was already walking out the door, with beer.  Hank had no choice but to follow.

The sign for the STD Clinic was 6 ft tall in bright red letters yet Hank still looked unconvinced about the clinics whereabouts.  As they got to the door, Hank decided to come clean and tell Bill that he was winding him up.

“Bill mate”  The door opened and a man in a dirty mac walked out.

“Hi Hank, How’s it going?” and walked on.

“Who was that?”  Asked Bill

“Er no idea mate” Another man exited the building.

“Hello Hank, long time no see” and passed them by.

“Hank looked away.  Bill watched the two strangers exit the ground and then looked at Hank trying to hide away from the doorway.  Something wasn’t right.  “Come on fella”  And dragged Hank into the clinic.

The three men sat in the waiting area, all avoiding each others gaze looked up as the two entered.

“Hank!” They all exclaimed as they approached the reception desk.

“Fellas” Hank replied demurely taking a seat in the far corner and swearing revenge on Bill for this humiliation. Bill was at the reception desk giving their details and Hank just wished that he would drop dead. Bill came over to the seats and said that it wouldn’t be long and that the receptionist wanted to know if Hanks last dose of Doxycycline hadn’t worked or was it a new dose. Hank made his way to reception and spent at least half an hour in deep conversation. Upon his return he informed Bill that he would meet him in the Stoke as he was given the all clear. Bill was then called into the examination room and informed that there was no need for a history as his friend had kindly given it for him to save him any embarrassment. As ordered he dropped his trousers and the nurse looked at him in a new light. He was made to lie on the bed and she then began her work. First came an internal penile scrape performed with a 8 inch long tool resembling something from the Spanish inquisition rather than a medical implement. Then he was asked to provide a semen sample and to his surprise the nurse lowered the head of the bed and started to talk dirty to him. After he regained consciousness he was asked to bunny hop around the room for 10 minutes and then try to regain an erection. On failing achieve the aforementioned erection he was told that he would have to be punished.

He returned to the Stoke 2 hours later, dishevelled and sore.

“Wanker.”  Was Bill’s only word.  Hank could only laugh, he had sank a few beers and had gotten over his previous embarrassment.  The two supped their pints and realised that both had received their share of humiliation that day and that all was forgiven.  Another would seal the deal.

Bill returned to the table with two pints and a packet of pork scratchings.  It was only three o’clock and they had a long day ahead of them.

“Fella I’d better check in with Rosey, let her know I’m not going to be home.”  Bill produced a brand new phone and began to dial.  Hank looked at the phone and  began to think. 

“Oh shit”  Said Bill as he hung up. “I’m for it know.  She’s pissed off with me not coming home last night and just cried when I said I won’t be home till tomorrow.  Apparently she had bought stuff for a picnic for today and some Venison for tonight.”

“Really?  My my mate that’s a lot of food”  Hank raised his glass to his lips and before he supped, hoarsed “Feeder”

“Don’t joke mate, you’ve got me worried,  At first I thought we were eating well because our finances are sorted now, but I think now maybe your right.”

“Yeah I noticed your new found affluence mate.  New phone is it?”

“Yeah, cool isn’t it.”

“How much did that set you back?”

“Well it’s a contract phone so £50”

“Ah £50.  Really.  Looks impressive, but then if I had fifty quid lying around, I reckon I could get me a phone like that.”

“well fella fifty quid isn’t that big a deal.  I always reckon if you were more careful of your money you could get yourself some nice stuff.  I mean whatever happened to your corkscrew collection?  Did you get that one you wanted?”

“No”  said Hank blankly.

“How much did it cost?”

“£50”  Again displaying no emotion.

“There you go shipmate,  £50 for something you want, all it takes is to be careful once in a while.  You have to admit you do tend to be careless with your money.  Your round”