Alright Boomy!, hows things?
I froze halfway through picking up some eggs in the supermarket. Looking up, I twitched like a Hollywood A-listers colon at the sight of a carb.
It was Kong. A large and round neighbour of mine from some doors down the street. He looked like Danny De Vito in his prime only with more hair. He was also a prize arsehole.
I had always considered a day without bumping into him a very successful day indeed and now, here I was in the supermarket hemmed in at the eggs section by his belly and mass of black hair which spread out from every chink in his clothing like an epidemic.
He looked like a short fat scarecrow stuffed with black straw.
Hey dude. I am good, how's you?
I casually opened my carton of dozen eggs and pretended to check that none of them had broken when in actuality I was preparing to throw them at him and set him on eggy fire should any of that hair start twitching and reaching out to me like alien sea spaghetti.
I am good my friend. Very very good! Just back from our little place in the South of France. I've told you about it before. Haven't I?
Kong preened at the mention of his little place in the South of France. It was all he ever talked about. That and having retired at fifty and how only fools worked on beyond that.
Yeah, you might have mentioned it once or twice.
I breathed in through my teeth hoping to use them like a sieve should any of his feeky hair try to float inside me and pull my lungs inside out so he could wear them like slippers.
Love the place. I could live there, except for the French, HA!
He chuckled and moved close enough to me for his wandering thatchy hair to reach out and clutch at me.
I moved back half a step, my breath hissing through my teeth as I readied myself to go full Blood Tiger on him.
Anyway. Enough about my wee place in France. I noticed you haven't answered the message in the Whatsapp group?
One of his bushy eyebrows raised up like an Otter stretching after a good swim.
The Whatsapp group? Oh yeah, I haven't checked it in a while.
I lied like an American ex-President at a rally.
I fucking hated our neighbourhood Whatsapp group. During lockdown it had been a fun thing, everyone using it to check in on each other and pass on news. Recently though, it had degenerated into the kind of conspiracy-laden shite you would expect to see on Blurt.
Don't worry, that's a link to a picture of a shit. I wouldn't dream of linking to the actual shitshow that is Blurt
So are you coming to the Coronation Street Party?
Kong gazed at me intently. As if I were a snotter he had just plucked from one of his furry funnel-like nostrils and he was wondering where to wipe it.
I remembered when he had sent the invite how myself and the Good Lady had guffawed and snorted at the very idea of going to a Coronation Street party.
Um, no. No, we won't be coming to the Coronation Street Party. Thank you though.
I made to move away but Kong grabbed at my arm. I tensed, ready to throw myself mightily into the air and deliver him two of the finest twisty-kicks known to man.
Oh come on, we have lots of nibbles and the wife is running a Chocolate Tombola?
He looked at me pleadingly.
I smirked, I wasn't entirely sure what a chocolate tombola was but it sounded like some kind of anal sex party.
Even that wasn't enough to make me go to a party celebrating some wank being crowned King.
Sorry mate, I fucking hate the royal family, they are a bunch of fannies.
I grinned, it felt good to say out loud.
Wha...? You... What?
Kong recoiled as if I had punched him square on the penis.
And reptiles. Don't forget they're reptiles.
I pushed past him and marched to the checkout with my eggs.
Bloody Reptiles. Not on my watch.
