A Bodie

See that?

I looked up to see Wee Yellow sidle over to my desk talking out the side of his mouth as if he suffered a stroke and had come over to my area to piss himself.

See what?

I murmured softly as I tried my very best to blot out everything worky and instead think about everything beery seeing as today was Friday and it was the day that God had set apart for drinking beer as can easily be seen in any bible.
^{^{Ecclesiastes 3:13 - see, I'm not fecking joking. The big man liked a jar or three it seems.}}

That there, I tell you. It's not looking good for some cunt.

Wee Yellow whistled through his teeth as if dipping his raddled and chafed nethers into a bowl of apple cider vinegar. For him the C U next Tuesday word was just another noun and he used it as liberally as his old mum used to use Swarfega on her tired old thunder cranny.

I shook my head. If only my job were as easy as Wee Yellow's. I could just wander the office pointing at random objects and calling them names.

What do you mean, it's not looking good? For who?

I cracked my knuckles as I spoke so he could see that if he annoyed me too much he would probably be on the wrong end of a good fisting and not the I say old fellow, you can't call my Nancy a bloody horse type of fisting.

That cunt doon there. Look at all the cops.

He craned his neck upward as if it might make him taller.

I stood and took a look myself as I noticed others in the office starting to stand and make ooh aah type noises.

Aye aye, yer right. That's a lot of police.

Indeed, just a short distance from the office there was quite the congregation of Police and other florescent jacketed people poking about at the side of the river beside which our new office was situated.

Someone said... It's a bodie

Wee Yellow whispered almost clandestinely, leaning toward me so much that I worried a horde of Italians might climb up him shouting Bella Bella!!

Really? In the river?

I was a little taken aback. I usually preferred to dance with death on my own terms and certainly not whilst at work.

Aye, it happens regular around here.

Wee Yellow affected an air of knowledge like a bespectacled owl perched on a dictionary.

Wow. I guess it must have been somebody.

I placed special emphasis on the somebody.

Eh? Whit do ye mean? It's a bodie?!

Wee Yellow furrowed his ratty brow in puzzlement.

Aye, somebody.

I winked and gave him a little nod as if we were part of the same gang and one of us had just bought a Taylor Swift poster to the treehouse.

Naw, it's a bodie. Look! They are fishing it oot the noo.

His voice dropped into an excited Glaswegian growl as we saw that the police were indeed fishing something that looked like a large flaccid seal in jogging bottoms out of the water.

Well, every body is somebody, eh?

I pronounced gravely, channelling my inner red-robed monk.

Wee Yellow looked at me in utter bewilderment.

Whit does that even mean? Whit are you tryin' to say?

Wee Yellow jutted his jaw back and forth as if servicing his favourite man, Prince William style.

I placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder and kept it there despite his best attempts to shrug it off and muttered softly in his ear.

That could be any one of us.

I looked out at the river, squeezing the little yellow man's shoulder even harder.

Any one of us...

Wee Yellow shook me off, his face red and blotchy.

Get off me, fuck, you're a weird bastard.

He looked back over his shoulder as he strode away almost falling over a chair.