You Ain't So Bad...

Exclusive extract from 'Special' by Andy Rivers

“Aye man Jackie, so what I‘m saying is, that film earlier, Silver Hammer or whatever it was called, it was shite in context with this day and age but at the time of it’s conception and production it was fucking marvellously ahead of it’s time.”

Matt knew he was rambling and also knew that he was talking so fast and so single-mindedly that no one else could get a word in. He didn’t want them to though. He was aware that the wrap of whizz he’d necked before entering the Stags had impacted on him and that as he’d not done any for a while it would hit him like a fucking train.

And it had.

“I’m telling you Jackie, when I was sitting watching it earlier I got a real feeling of being in the film, the black and white imagery, the moody setting and the tense atmosphere all contributed to a top movie in it’s day. I sat there watching it in the dark an all man, fucking class when that burglar gets his head stoved in by the law. Heh heh, that taught the cunt.”

Then moving towards his new best mate and putting his arm around him Matt whispered conspiratorially “Fucking scum round here man Jackie, some of them cunts deserve a good hiding. Take that ghostboy twat for instance, he needs punching fuck out of he does. Can’t say nowt though can we, one of Falcus’s boys isn’t he. He wants to be careful though, there’ll come a time when his boss doesn’t need him no more and it’ll be open season on the little cunt then.”

The man known as Jackie just nodded ambiguously, he’d only met Matt an hour ago and had ended up drinking with him through a combination of financial hardship and alcohol dependence and therefore wasn’t prepared to get into trouble with nutters like Falcus because of him but at the same time he didn’t want to stop the free pints coming his way courtesy of this drunken, drugged up mess.

“Two more pints mate,” Matt said to the barman, taking Jackie’s nod as a sign of agreement, “Am off to the bog.”