‘Cheers, Azzy boy.’

Gunny bounces in the front n Wee Briggy dives in the back wae nae questions. It feels like a barely know the younger wans noo. ‘Where’s yir other wee muckers?’

‘Who?’ Gunny asks.

‘Carlyle n Dalzell, fuck sake.’

The two ae them seem tae look at one another. ‘No seen them fur years.’

‘Two ae them ir wee fuckin posh cunts noo.’

‘How’s that?’

‘Cos they’re wee fuckin posers that just go intae the town n that. Always runnin aboot wae burds n cunts no fae aboot here.’

‘Wit dae they work as like?’

‘Emm, fuck knows, man. College or uni or suhin.’

‘Fuck, is that no good? Sounds like they’re dain well.’

‘Dunno,’ Briggy says.

‘Fuck them! The YTP boys ir still runnin it here!’ Gunny shouts.

A laugh but ma heart’s no in it. A wish it wis the other two sittin in ma motor. A’d rather huv heard aboot Carlyle n Dalzell’s careers that they’re makin fur themselves. The cunts they hang aboot wae probably huv decent jobs n nice burds n plans. Compared tae those two, Gunny n Briggy ir just wee dicks still bouncin aboot the scheme. Maybe that’s wit cunts thought ae me when they wur movin on themselves. A momentarily hate maself n the way A talk n aw the time A’ve wasted. It makes me wonder wit a lassie like Monica sees in me n A feel worthless, a fuckin fanny drivin intae a town full ae fannies wae two dicks sittin in ma motor. These powerful feelings ae disenchantment strike me as we drive along the eld high street – shutters doon at midday n the charity shops n the bookies n the chemists n the eld pubs wae the eld cunts forever smoulderin outside.

‘Where dae yees want drapped?’

‘We’re jist meetin somecunt n headin back up if that’s sound?’

‘Yees didnae say that.’

‘Aye … well we kin walk if it’s no sound.’

‘Where yees goin then?’

‘Down the back ae the Chinese.’

This is fuckin typical. Cunts only ever tell yi the tip ae the iceberg. If they hud asked Azzy, wull yi take us doon tae drop stuff aff? A wid huv said nae fuckin chance. A wisnae ever interested in sellin drugs n A wis a million miles away fae that noo. Every second that ticks by in these wee cunts’ company A kin feel maself gittin more pissed aff n agitated. ‘Long’s this gonnae take?’

‘Chill oot, mate. It’ll only be a minute fuck.’

A black BMW rolls intae the car park n pulls intae a space further doon. ‘You two better be fuckin kiddin.’

‘Wit?’

‘That better no be who A think it is.’

‘It’s sound fuck, it’s Kenzie.’

Right enough, Wee Kenzie bounces oot the passenger door n runs over tae the side windae. Gunny slides it doon. A’m growlin the heed aff him. ‘Wit’s happnin, boys?’ he says, aw smug charm.

‘Nuhin much, mate. Wit’s happnin?’ Gunny says back.