Finnegan doesnae take his eyes aff the score note in ma hand. Toni opens the door n leaves without a word. He just nods before he opens the door n walks oot after hur, straight on an eld Nokia mobile makin the call. A go tae light a smoke, pissed aff n depressed. A hunt aboot the centre console fur ma fags. It’s then A realise that they’re away in Toni’s pocket.

Supply and Demands

Broonie is sittin on the bed rollin a joint. A’m sittin on ma armchair smokin a fag. Usually he wis blether, blether, blether n yi hud tae squeeze a word in edgeways. The day he’s quiet n fiddlin wae his mobile n tryin tae roach a joint at the same time. The cunt’s git a pair ae Diesel jeans on n a Fred Perry polo shirt n looks like he’s enjoyin the spoils ae his chosen occupation. How daft it seems tae me – when A wouldnae even wear flashy labels n jewellery. His passin pleasures ir things we took fur granted growin up; wearin aw the best gear n havin money in yir pocket. He never hud the benefit ae a maw or da who could hand him cairo without worryin. They wur tryin tae feed their own habits. Puntin gear, he’s makin enough tae drive an Audi n buy some designer clothes. This kind ae gain never lasts long. The look on his face says his wee empire is awready slippin away fae him, the same way as usual – wae somebody pullin the rug fae under yi.

‘Broonie, wit’s wrang wae yir face?’

He laughs n gees his nose a wee tap.

‘Fuck yi then, ya wee cunt!’

‘Don’t be like that, eld son. Just fuckin business.’

‘Aww sorry, Scarface.’

‘Cunts huv let us doon, man. That wis aw.’

‘Much yi short like?’

‘Aboot three grand or suhin, aw in.’

‘You’re jokin.’

‘Naw, man. A’ve been sellin big bits, quarters n half oscars n single tickets anaw. Mind a ticket ae pure is a hunner quid anaw noo, fuck. No that forty quid shite we used tae sniff. Even council is fifty a gram noo. Then there’s that shitey thirty-quid-a-ticket shite gawn aboot but it’s cut tae fuck wae mephedrone.’

A’ve only briefly encountered aw this new-wave drug shite. The legal high pish hus completely muddied the water. Aw these wee cunts think they’re takin ‘safe’ drugs, as if there is such a thing. Normal cocaine n ecstasy huv changed anaw. They’ve been revitalised n strengthened, tae keep up wae this new creed ae cheap synthetic drugs. Coke is aw ‘pure’ stuff – higher purity, higher cost. Aw this mad Mandy patter fur pure MDMA, which we barely seen back in the day. As purity goes up, dose hus tae come doon. Those first remarketed drugs didnae come wae warning labels. Cunts took rock-star lines instead ae spiders’ legs n ended up in trouble. Takin even four or five tenner eckies could be the equivalent ae takin fifteen or twenty ae the wans we used tae take. Yi end up wae serious anxiety, palpitations, overheatin, tachycardia, overdose, coma n death. These ir new generation problems. Young cunts adapt n know more than us noo. In the drugs game yir oot the loop in nae time at aw.