Sexual Service
“Spew echoed, pressing the receiver to his ear. “Who the hell are you and what the hell do you want?”
“I’ve just told you who the hell I am. I’m Dave the bloody dyke.”
“You haven’t told me what the hell you want.”
“A man was looking for me in parliament yesterday. The thing is, he never found me.”
“Where were you?”
“I was with Mike the Marmite miner. It’s that wanker of a bloody barman’s fault.”
“Wanker of a barman?”
“Had he not caught me in the toilets with Roger the fudge packer ...”
“What the... fucking hell are you talking about?”
“Haynes Blond was looking for me.”
“In the toilets?”
“No, no.”
Spew paused. “How do you know Blond?” he finally asked.
“The PM said that ... It doesn’t matter. Where is he?”
“In a seedy bar with his hands up some knickerless tart’s skirt, I would imagine.”
“I have to speak with him in connection with a dose of common clap ... I mean, Clapham Common.”
Spew smelled a rat and frowned as he pondered on Clapham Common.MoreLess
“I’ve just told you who the hell I am. I’m Dave the bloody dyke.”
“You haven’t told me what the hell you want.”
“A man was looking for me in parliament yesterday. The thing is, he never found me.”
“Where were you?”
“I was with Mike the Marmite miner. It’s that wanker of a bloody barman’s fault.”
“Wanker of a barman?”
“Had he not caught me in the toilets with Roger the fudge packer ...”
“What the... fucking hell are you talking about?”
“Haynes Blond was looking for me.”
“In the toilets?”
“No, no.”
Spew paused. “How do you know Blond?” he finally asked.
“The PM said that ... It doesn’t matter. Where is he?”
“In a seedy bar with his hands up some knickerless tart’s skirt, I would imagine.”
“I have to speak with him in connection with a dose of common clap ... I mean, Clapham Common.”
Spew smelled a rat and frowned as he pondered on Clapham Common.MoreLess
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