Rebels

Maybe things were normal after all. Yep a few things had happened, they had fallen out, Bill had had some stupid idea about breaking away and leading his own life. What a ridiculous idea; to think that he could live his own life and settle down with all that entailed. No, the Stoke was home and his life revolved around it: so Guinness it was then and a life in the Navy or should that be the other way around? Did’nt really matter did it? There was a pint of black stuff and a fat git on the bar; actually the fat git was drinking his Guinness whilst lying on the bar: Bill smiled, everything he thought he wanted to escape was laid out before him and truth be told it was not a pretty sight but fucking hell,honestly, when compared to the numerous “real lives” he had experienced it all looked pretty good. So he ordered another pint, asked for his change in pound coins and set off for the quiz machine.

The very first question was “what was the profession of Mary Magdeline?” Oh easy thought Bill but the answer eluded him,shit it was on the tip of his tongue..damn. “Hank” he called “what does your mum do for a living?” The answer was swift; “same as she does for fun, she is a whore as you well know and you owe her for the last time, 50 quid apparently and she says its fine if you give the money to me.”

So he got the question right, ordered 2 more pints and one for Hank and considered the next question which proved more difficult, much more difficult; “Cleopatra committed suicide with the aid of which animal; a) Donkey b) Asp c) Goat or d) elephant? “ Now this was more difficult by a mile but just as time was running out something sparked in his brain, something from his drunken past just clicked and he knew the answer so he pressed C.

“Bollocks” he said and to his surprise Hank called from atop the bar; “You did’nt say goat again did you?”

“No fuck off you cunt and get the round in”.

And he did.  A round is a circle. It spins around.  As did their turns, the guinness flowed and flowed.  The money poured into the quiz machine and their results got worse.  They realized they needed to stop when question one was ‘Whiskey is made from grape or grain…. True or false’.

They staggered home delirious but somehow knew that things were right.  Normal.  They had a taste of kebab in their mouths but neither could recall eating.  Bill was carrying a garden gate.  Hank was trying to hop along on a pogo stick.  They eventually managed to get into the flat, happy and content.  They went to their respective beds and fell down.

The following morning they both got up.  They were not in work.  So as both of them stepped into the hall and gazed bleary eyed, trying to focus.  This was not normal.  They both looked at their watches.  0900.  weird.  Neither of them considered getting up before countdown when not in work.  They both shrugged.  It would sort itself out.  They walked to the kitchen and did a strange waltz in both making the tea and toast.  They would have liked bacon but the frying pan was missing.  They walked into the living room and stopped in their tracks.  ‘Arse’ was written clearly on the floor.  They both took a sup of their tea, then a sudden recall made them drop everything and they ran to the kitchen.  Harriet looked up from her bound position on the table.  She didn’t look happy.

After being unbound Harriet explained her displeasure.  “Aubergines have a very short shelf life” she said “they go soft after 12 hours and that is not a nice feeling”. Hank apologized and promised to use parsnips in future which seemed to placate her and with that she set off for the Gymkhana with the local girl guides. Once she was gone and the mess was moved under a rug, well some cloth on the floor: the 2 lads took stock of their position.

Hank was sitting on a box of empties whilst Bill had collapsed onto an inflatable crocodile.  Well now that stock was taken they could think rationally at last …….shit…. “Stoke” asked Bill questioningly , “Yes” answered Hank certainly. Dave was far from surprised to see them but was concerned all the same. “Fellas” he said, “I, and this pub have been the genesis for all things good and bad that have became the pair of you, yet you left only 12 minutes ago and have returned, not under arrest, Bill does’nt have a six year old hidden in his pants, Hank, you are fully dressed and have not upset an ethnic minority; neither of you are naked and there is not one prop in sight: what the fuck is going on?”

They looked at each other nonplussed.  Then Bill asked ‘Hank is ‘nonplussed’ one word?”.  Hank looked back and said “Maybe it has a hyphen”.

“Ok, erm, dave  two pints please.  Hank?”

Hank removed his hands from deep in his pockets “Yeah two pints for me as well.  Oh and a couple of Jamesons.  Speaking of which, can we have a look at the label whilst we’re waiting?”

Hank was thoughtful for once. Casting his mind back over the last couple of hours there was a lot to take in. For one thing there was a thin line between acolyte and burden and he started to wonder which Bill was. He was not thinking this in a nasty way but out of concern for his mate; but then again no-one knew where big gay Al was. As to Bill, well he was an enigma. Fucking hell the guy had every chance in life, Christ he had even been married to a good looking lass, then thrown that away. He had a promising career in the Andrew and threw that away as well. Then there was the medal and he became a national hero not to mention exposing the “Christ Uniting Nations Together” cult. Actually this fella had been given every opportunity to make something of himself and with a total lack of self awareness or social conscience thrown them away for the sake of a few pints of the black stuff, what a ….loser?  eejit?  Or…

Both?  Then again he was like a boomerang.  For everything that happened to him he always ended up back at the flat, the stoke and with himself.. The flat was alright, the stoke was, well the stoke.  So maybe it was him.  Was he holding Bill back?  No that couldn’t possibly be it.  To think that was wrong.  To reassure himself he turned from the half concealed picture of the naked lady behind the peanuts and looked to Bill.  He wasn’t there.  Bill was over at the pool table teaching a girl how to play.  She could probably learn better without Bill groping her arse but to be fair Bill was giving her his full attention.  He looked happy.

However the six foot black bloke in the corner did not.

So Hank grabbed a pool cue and twatted the nigger, when he fell Hank hit him again before being pushed outside by Bill and Dave. Hank was livid, how dare  an ethnic black ex slave think that Bill could not take that girl? Bollocks, the world had gone wrong on each and every level. Why was a coon allowed in the Stoke in the first place? Did the police know that the darky was in the country? How many innocent white girls had this dark skinned asylum seeker defiled? Hank was angry, very angry, no really angry and it was time that someone did something so he pushed the door open and rushed inside.

Damien, the black bloke was standing there dazed: not through the violence but absolute shock that he was attacked for no reason whilst supervising one of his parole clients.

He was used to being in violent situations, it came with the job.  Outside  he could hear his assailant gobbing off.  “the cunt stood there looking smug with his dark glasses deserved it”  sounded through the door.  He bent down looking for his shades.  He found them quickly enough,  Then he heard a scouse voice, “Not again”.

Winston stood up and replaced his shades.  “Where is Sheila?  Is she ok?” he said his head in his hands.

The scouse voice spoke again” she’s fine shippers. Though I don’t think she will make a professional pool player”

Damien looked up.  Straight faced and said “neither do I considering she is my seeing eye dog”.