It’s Like A Parable, Only Shitter…

I remember when I was a kid, me and a load of my mates all had a day off school for some reason. There was a right old gang of us back then, and a day off represented a chance to do something outside the norm. To get up to some divilment.

Anyway, we were looking for something to do, and as always, we put it to the vote. We were a democratic bunch, even as 12 year olds. We’d only do something once we’d all agreed. Otherwise, we’d just hang around on the wall at the end of the road, spitting on the path, giving each other wedgies, and scabbing money off younger kids to buy Woppa bars and blue flavoured cool-pops. We’d shaken hands on it and everything. No come backsies and all.

And why shouldn’t we? Sure it worked for us. My mate Legs got a feel of a bit of tit off some Spanish student the summer before just by being able to spit further than any of us.

The choice came down to heading around to the field at the back of the girl’s secondary school and tearing down the hill on our bikes until it got dark, and heading off on the bus somewhere exotic like Tallaght to hang around the Square eating ice cream and lurking around Marathon Sports looking at the jerseys.

Obviously, most of us wanted to go and look at jerseys. Rumour had it that they had the new Ajax away jersey in stock, and being big fans of European football since we could remember, we all wanted a look. It made sense. It was the right thing to do. We all knew it.

Anyway, we were about to jump on the bus and head off until me mate Farts remembered that he had to ask his Ma first. She was a bit of a moany old bitch, and wasn’t too keen on him heading off willy nilly on buses to places like Tallaght without her permission.

As we waited for Farts to get back, we decided that she’d most likely let him go. She usually did with a bit of persuading. Well, she did the last time. But only after he started crying.

However, this time she didn’t. She was in the horrors over something that someone she’d never met before had told her about how things work in Tallaght, and she freaked out.

‘Sure don’t worry lads. Yis all know the rules. We’ll just go and hang around the wall like we always do. I’ve a load of fizzy cola bottles in me snorkel, we’ll suck on them and gollie all over the path. ‘Member we shook on it?’.

‘Yeah whatever Farts. Go fuck yourself’ we all said, and hopped on the bus. We’d have to walk home because the fare had gone up without any warning, but we didn’t care. We were happy being bastards.

‘Isn’t democracy great?’ We all laughed as the bus sped away. ‘Farts can go and fuck himself if he thinks I’m even telling him what the new Ajax away jersey looks like, the scabby cunt, sure he wouldn’t tell me’, I chortled.

‘Yeah, I never liked him anyway’ said Scuts. We all laughed again. Great big belly laughs.

Then the bus crashed into another bus, filled with tourists, and we all died. Even me. Even the driver, who wasn’t even a trained bus driver and didn’t have a license in the first place.

Farts is the only one of us still alive.

Cunt didn’t even go to any of our funerals.

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