‘Azzy Williams,’ A say, aw confidence.

DJ Pulse, ‘Poison’, is playin oot wan ae their phones.

‘Nice tae meet yi, Azzy Williams,’ Monica says.

‘A’m Danny fuckin Stevenson – the wan n only.’ Two ae them laugh. He bounces away steamin tae talk tae another burd.

‘You one of the young wans that punched fuck out ae Big Si?’

‘Aye, fuck. We backed Taz right up n aw that.’

‘So yi mad then?’ Patricia asks us. This time A wink. Monica giggles. Patricia gees us the sexy scowl, like she’s kiddin on she doesnae fancy us a wee bit. A kin hear Danny talkin tae another wee burd behind me, Emma Black, huvin a similar convo aboot last week’s antics. A turn roon tae see him nippin her, two ae them standin under a tree. The lassies follow ma look n both laugh.

‘You hopin fur a kiss the night, son?’ Patricia says.

‘Ah never say never n aw that!’ A say, wae Monica catchin ma eye. She looks doon ever so slightly, n gees us this mad look. A hear a commotion. The two lassies’ heads turn n mine follows.

A hear Addison’s whiney fuckin voice, ‘Gees it back, ya dick!’

‘Yass, new phone fur me!’ an elder wan says, pretendin tae talk on Paul’s expensive new Cybershot. People ir turnin tae see him gittin victimised, defining him fae then on as a victim n someone who kin be bammed up tae further their own celebrity, in absence ae the tap men. Addison retaliates in the only way he knows how.

‘Get it back, ya fuckin tramp.’

Andy McColl, one ae this guy’s mates, steps forward and whacks him twice wae two right hooks. We watch in slow motion as Addison’s nose splatters n he folds. He’s on the deck, nearly greetin. The first dick, Mark Bailey, is still holdin the mobile phone tae his ear. The two lassies look at me cos they know it’s ma pal. A hand Monica ma wine bottle.

‘Gawn hod that fur us, wull yi?’

‘Wit yi gonna do?’ Patricia asks us.

A look aboot fur Danny, but he’s doon the field, away a walk wae that wee burd. Broonie is talkin tae a wee beachball ae a lassie aboot the same distance the other way. The only available hawners ir Wee Kenzie n Finnegan. The two ae them huvnae even noticed yit, or if they huv, they’re makin sure nobody knows it. That prick Bailey draws the boot aff Addison’s chops. He’s whinin n wimperin fae the deck, n cunts ir laughin at him or tryin no tae look. Paul’s lyin in a puddle, new tracksuit filthy n he’s git a bloody nose. He’s just a cheeky wee guy, so nobody cares. These two cunts, Bailey n Andy McColl, ir bold enough tae say suhin back n fall intae their roles as replacement tap men. Just fuckin bullies n A hate those cunts. There’s a wooden plank lyin on the deck. It’s a big bit ae skirtin, that somebody’s dumped doon the field. A pick it up n it’s all eyez on me. These two pricks huvnae noticed me approachin. Wan ae their mates, Matthew Whyte, tries tae step in ma way.